youth
Author: Xi Murong
All endings have been written.
All the tears have also flowed out.
Suddenly forgot.
What kind of beginning?
in ancient times
A summer gone forever.
No matter how hard I pursue it,
Young you
It's like passing clouds.
And your smiling face
Extremely shallow and light
Gradually become unknown
Clouds after sunset
Then open the yellow title page.
Fate predestined it.
Extremely clumsy
With tears in my eyes
I read it again and again.
But I have to admit.
youth
This is a sloppy book.
Modern narrative poetry:
The wheat is ripe.
Author: Haizi
The new wheat in Lanzhou that year
mature
on the way home
My father, who has been on the water for more than 30 years, has gone home.
Sitting on a sheepskin raft
Go home.
Someone is carrying food.
Push the door and come in at night
Deng Qian
Recognize your uncle?
Laogelia
Silence all night
Half a foot thick loess
The wheat is ripe.
Lyric ancient poems:
golden
(Tang) Li Shangyin
I want to know why my Jinse has fifty strings, and each string has a youthful interval.
Zhuangzi daydreaming, a saint, was bewitched by butterflies, and cuckoo crowed in the imperial spring.
Mermaids shed pearl-like tears on the moon-green sea, and the blue fields breathed their jade to the sun.
It's worth remembering that it had come and gone before I knew it.
Narrative ancient poems:
Charcoal seller
(Tang) Bai Juyi
An old man selling charcoal cuts wood and burns charcoal in the mountains in the south all year round. His face was covered with dust, which was the color of smoke burning, his temples were gray, and his ten fingers were burnt black. What is the money for selling charcoal for? Buy clothes, buy food in your mouth. Pity that he is wearing thin clothes, but he is worried that charcoal can't be sold, hoping it will be colder. At night, it snowed a foot thick outside the city. Early in the morning, the old man drove a charcoal wheel to the market. Cows are tired and people are hungry, but the sun has risen very high. They are resting in the mud outside the south gate of the market. Who is that proud man riding on two horses? It was the eunuchs in the palace and eunuchs who did it. The eunuch, with documents in his hand and the emperor's orders in his mouth, shouted at the petrified palace. It's a pity that a car full of charcoal, more than a thousand Jin, is driven by an official to a general. Half a horse's red yarn is a silk, which is filled with charcoal to the cow's head.