Everyone has their own youth. Youth is the most beautiful and exciting stage in life. After experiencing the sour, sweet, bitter and spicy youth, you will grow into a truly meaningful person. Youth is short-lived and will flow away gently from your hands. Grasping youth means that a fulfilling life is waiting for you not far away! Youth is like this bouquet of flowers! It’s so gorgeous when it’s open! But when it withers, it becomes miserable! The same is true for our youth. In the season of youth, we are full of passion, but once our youth passes, we will lose our vitality, passion, and unrestrainedness! We must cherish our youth and not let it go in vain!
The poem of youth
Youth is a song
A song that never gives up
Youth is a song
The never-ending river
Youth is a book
A book you can never tire of reading
Youth is a cup of tea
An endless cup of tea
Youth is a building
Standing on the peak of the nation
Engraving the footprints of thousands of young people
Youth is a building< /p>
The Pagoda of Knowledge
Sprinkles the sweat of thousands of young people
Youth is a tree that is growing vigorously
It has received much attention The test of wind and rain
Youth is a flower
a bud ready to bloom
wanting to show its unique style to the world
I use a passionate
heart of youth
to give myself a gift of youth
That is the poem of youth
Four Songs of Youth
(1) Snow in March
A snowstorm came in March
My mother passed away
Not only the winter sunshine disappeared in the sky
There was also the silhouette of flying pigeons
The strings of the piano were broken
I was lying deep in the clouds. Crying on the top of the mountain
March is the season when flowers bloom
But what I harvest is indeed the withering of flowers all over the world
On the snowy road
Withered leaves dancing
I sat on the ground
Looking up at the door of heaven every night
And the unswimable river
The stars have long since disappeared
There is no caressing of the moon on the ditch
I am tuning on my own tears
Playing a song of lovesickness on a snowy night
p>(2) Secret Love
Watching you helplessly
Sprinkle green in my lonely autumn
Grow into crazy spring grass< /p>
(3) My Youth
The dim sky in winter
No beautiful birds flying over
A lonely pool of stagnant water< /p>
There are no fish swimming happily
I fly into the sky
Looking down at the flowers projected on the flowing water
I find that it has been lost in the years. Yellow in the wind
Childhood is a complete mirror
Youth is a mottled leaf
Who is paving the mountains and valleys with worries
p>
Who is sleeping on the long dream of white clouds
The spring cuckoo sings every night
But the passion that has passed away?
(4) Bright March
Bright March
Flower shadows
The wind shakes the green leaves
I Open the window
The sun ran in
Kicked the shadows out
I heard the sound of loneliness breaking
The broken sky where birds flew by The silk-like youthful water surface
Isn’t it my sadness that sparkles
Forget it all
The poisonous wine I once drank
The once lost mountain road
The snow on the mountain has melted
In this beautiful March
Let us listen to the whispers of flowers and dreams
2. You are my youth
You came gently,
with a little naughtiness.
You are so innocent,
Hypocrisy cannot be forced.
You came gently,
With a little dream,
You are so cute.
You came quietly,
Freshness is your temperament,
It is simply your wealth.
I want to hold you in my arms,
But, you cried.
So, I will no longer blaspheme your purity.
Just because you are my youth.
3. Youth is clueless
<1>
When I look back again
The one behind me
I have clearly been waving my hands for a long time
But
still nothing can be seen
Only the leaves on the trees behind me
are blowing in the wind
Swaggering gently
<2>
In these quiet days, I always look out the window silently
Look at the bare The big tree is a single old man spending the winter
The frozen wounds on the body are still slowly flowing with stagnant blood
The solitary branches are naked hair blowing in the cold wind
The roots are shaking wildly
A few birds are jumping under the eaves and looking here from time to time
But they never stay away from their A warm home
The sun is always shining palely in the solemn sky
A monotonous and silent sigh over and over again
It passed by again and again Nothing remains after his face
<三>
The dry grassland where snow has not fallen for a long time is still scattered with seven or eight stars
A bird quietly Lying in the grass, it seems that he has been dead for a long time
I have walked through this place, but I can’t find the profound marks I left behind
The clear river is full of floating Leaves of all sizes
Create many traps leisurely in a wide valley
Carefully step on the piled fallen leaves
In an extraordinary gentle sound Identify the direction
Occasionally find the bullet casing left by the old hunter, Time
I suddenly realize that this was originally made of some beautiful petals
Steel Film
Is it for the yellow land that has been dry for ten thousand years to sing the song of the strong wind again?
Is it for the end of that song? Is it because your wandering soul is transported again?
Is it because that soul transcends a single banana tree that was originally far away from the jungle a few years ago?
Is it because that single banana tree is hazy in the sky? Has this erratic leading edge continued in the world?
The sky is soaked by rain day by day and exhausted by the scorching sun
The earth is soaked by rain day by day. The blur of dust and dust footprints
How many times have the tears filled the ocean
But the environment is gradually getting worse and cannot seriously damage a new human being
The bitter and salty life in the previous life still surrounds the embankment of your steps
<五>
Sitting by the river again on the rough black sand
I am imagining the vast wasteland and the dim mud day again
The home that I have been away from for a long time has gone far away
The deathly silence that I hate the most is actually more accommodating than anything else.
Let the footprints of time float the dark floating soil into a blank space
The two mouths eventually turned into a muddy dead sea
No matter how many winds and rains there are, they are still immortal. The silence
Laughter came one after another from afar
The wind turned the pages on the table into chaos
As if Far away, you ride the waves and come closer
You are the lotus blooming in the snowy fields in winter. . . . . .
Youth
Those vague memories
Quietly slipping away from the trajectory of life
Just like the scratches on the table
From this year to next year
Year after year
Recording the joys and sorrows
Confirming the joys and sorrows
Left There are traces of our growth
1. Youth is a beautiful dream
But one day you will wake up from the dream
Youth is a small river
But one day it will eventually dry up
Youth is a rainbow
But one day it will eventually disappear
Youth is a blooming flower
But one day it will wither one day
Youth is like the fine sand in your hand
It has been leaked out without knowing it
Youth is like a shooting star in the sky
Although beautiful, it passes away in an instant
Youth is the fragrance left by happiness
I want to cherish it and it has gone
2 Staring at the willow shadows on the shore, I walked into the memory of my youth. The world was once a world of green grass and flowers, but today it is covered with a layer of silver frost. Because for a thirty-year-old person, playing the chord of youth is probably a bit outdated.
However, after all, I have stayed in this life station. Look at those crooked footsteps on the road, aren't they just the footprints of a toddler? When you listen to that simple willow flute song, isn't it the call of your heart? What a persistent pursuit, what a naive fantasy, without falsehood or sorrow. And those frivolous things are the footprints of my youth. That was the path we walked when we were confused by the ups and downs of the times. Yes, the youth I still remember so vividly was a time of distress, a time of fanatical passion and shocking slogans.
I also studied hard in the cold window, always wanting to get rid of the gift of ten years of catastrophe to our generation - the childish dust and shallow mud of the ignorant cloudy sky. However, who can escape the filthy air of the times?
What is gratifying is that I am awake and I understand that life is the alternating weaving of sentimentality and joy, and the constant transposition of bravery and cowardice.
No failures and setbacks, no pain and hesitation. So how can I taste the pride of success and the joy of victory? How can I get rid of the childish and shallow footprints? So I looked ahead and seemed to see a harvest season coming towards us. . . . .
Youth without complaint (Xi Murong_Taiwan)
When you are young
If you fall in love with someone
Please You
Please treat him gently
Then
all
moments will be flawless beauty.
If you have to separate
Say goodbye properly
Also be grateful in your heart
Thank him for giving you Your memory
When you grow up
You will know
At the moment when you suddenly look back
Youth without resentment can No regrets after meeting
Like the quiet full moon on the hill
Poetry "Youth"
——Chenqing
Youth The flowers blooming and fading make me tired but I don’t regret it.
The rain and snow in the four seasons make me intoxicated but haggard.
The gentle breeze, the green dream, the gentle morning and dusk,
The faint clouds, the faint tears, the faint years.
With a bit of wandering joy, I just left and never came back.
No one hinted at the boring feeling of homesickness in my youth.
I want to cling tightly to every piece of golden sunset,
Every transparent dewdrop washes away my accumulated sadness.
I met her in full bloom in the distant spring scenery.
It was filled with dazzling brilliance like a beautiful fairy tale.
Allow me to sing for you. I will not be able to sleep every night from now on.
Allow me to cry for you. In the tears, I can fly freely.
The sky in the dream was huge and I was lying on your eyelashes.
The days in the dream were many but I started to want to go home.
I will bury all my songs on that green hillside,
Waiting for the day when they will be legendary in the world.
The blooming and fading flowers of youth make me tired but not regretful.
The four seasons of rain and snow make me intoxicated but unbearable and haggard.
The entangled clouds, entangled tears, entangled mornings and dusk,
The passing wind, the passing dreams, the passing years.
Song of Youth (prose)
:Sai Feng
:When we wear the wings of sunshine and are in the station of youth, we sing with a single tone When the surging blood pushes open the door of light and hope with hands welcoming the sun. So the end of all journeys to find youth becomes a new beginning.
: The journey of youth has given us too many pursuits. Finding and experiencing the light of youth has become a vow in our hearts. We have carried our ideals on our backs countless times and set out with the sound of the midnight bell to pursue the glory of youth. Maybe we still have nothing, maybe the road to youth is still very long, and maybe the way forward will be full of ups and downs and thorns. But we can use our ideals as our warp and our actions as our latitude, and work tirelessly towards our distant goals.
:In the tunnel of time, we hope to use our sharp eyes to drill out the blue sky, and let our excited hearts shoot through the endless sky like sharp arrows, high and far into the universe. I hope that all travelers who are looking for youth like us will carry their luggage and worship religiously towards a distant and holy destination until the last moment of their lives.
: The call of youth makes our belief in hiking firmly rooted in our hearts, and the path of pursuit under our feet grows like grass. We blew the horn of youth and headed over the mountains and ridges desperately, heading towards our destination as always. Just like a fish falling in love with water, the green color of life chases the sun.
: Looking for the home of youth, we have no choice. When we use our hard work, sweat and surging blood to create an ideal text to record or express the indispensable pursuit in life. All the hardships experienced fell into the soil like falling snowflakes.
: Once upon a time, we asked ourselves, is it because of the call of youth that the long river of life surges prematurely? He can even prop up his flying wings to attack wind, rain, thunder and lightning. Is it because of the call of youth that the blooming ideal flowers stick to the shore of life and decorate it? It even blooms with bright colors and becomes a beautiful scenery in people's eyes.
: Don’t forget that many words are said insincerely. In fact, many journeys of youth come by boat and go with the waves. Just like a camel team on an expedition, keep in mind that the road ahead is still long and far away. If you shake the jingling camel bells, you will know that the distance ahead is immeasurable. The process of crossing is the proof of pursuit.
: The bell of hope rings the dawn sky, and I believe that the sunshine every morning will make the sky brilliant. I believe that the light of youth is shining brightly and will surely illuminate the path of unremitting pursuit of aspiring young people.
: Let us join hands and travel through the years under the sun, speed up the pace of youth, and light up the ideal light hanging in our hearts. Sing a song of youth with your true love.
『Prose World』 [Prose] "Youth"·Youth
Author: Xiaochong who loves learning Submission date: 2005-11-1 23:35:00
Somehow, I suddenly remembered the melody of "Youth". I remembered that when the pomegranate flowers bloomed every year in college, this song seemed to be played over and over again on the school radio. The air at that time was filled with sadness of parting. Sometimes I would stop and listen quietly. Although I couldn't distinguish the lyrics, tears quietly filled my eyes during the melody. Quickly google it, there it is.
Faint clouds, faint tears, faint years and years
Entangled clouds, entangled tears, entangled mornings and dusk
The passing wind, the passing dreams Years pass by year after year
With a little joy of wandering, I just go away and never come back
I like these lyrics, those words belong to youth and sing for youth, Clouds, tears, wind, dreams and wandering. A guitar and a singer singing in the wind can easily stir up all the melancholy, confusion and sadness about youth deep in your heart.
I still remember when I was a freshman, I always felt as if I had been sentenced to four years in prison. I didn’t know when I would graduate and have real freedom. But how do you know that the best times always go the fastest. Suddenly looking back. In my memory, I only have the fresh branches and leaves swaying so freshly in the new sunshine after the rain on campus. I couldn't sit still in the classroom, so I rode a broken bicycle given by the principal, took my books to the small island in the center of Guihu Lake, I read a book with a newspaper spread on the grass, and soon fell asleep in the sun with the book covering my head. A gust of wind blew across the lake, and I woke up suddenly but didn't know where I was for a long time.
Will there still be such a pleasant time with no worries? I shook my head and sighed. In addition to being sentimental, it is still sentimental.
It is such a beautiful and memorable age, it is so easy to believe in love, it is so easy to shed tears for love, and I write down my thoughts for love one after another. This song fills the memory of that time with a youthful rhythm. Squandering the years that belong to you, waiting for your own romance. Unconsciously, the pomegranate flower bloomed for the fourth time. We are leaving too.
Considering myself to be strong, I laughed and said goodbye to everyone at the school gate. Hugging each other and joking about meeting each other someday. After packing my simple luggage and sitting in the taxi, suddenly and out of control, I burst into tears. Tears are like floods. The crying made the dozen or so people outside the car lose their composure. We were separated by the car window, holding hands in the rain of tears. I still couldn't control it until my friend next to me asked me to move the car.
Why should I cry? Years later I have been trying to give myself a reply. I don’t think I can give up this time of youth that is like a movie after a movie. I will never be able to go back to such a transparent state of mind, such a carefree life in the lush campus according to my own wishes. Only when I was about to leave did I know Everything familiar before my eyes will no longer belong to me. . .
At this time, my eyes were actually wet again. At this time, I remembered again the big boy who always sang "Love in the Wind" with his guitar in the school's annual art festival or other activities. At that time, they were so young, frank, and irresistible that people could not help but fall in love with them.
When time
and beauty
have become sighs in the dust of travel
In your sentimental eyes
There are old tears
The age of believing in love
Let me recall it often in my life