Modern Poetry after Rain

Modern poetry, also known as "vernacular poetry", can be traced back to the late Qing Dynasty, which is a kind of poetry. Compared with ancient poems, although they are all written for understanding things, they are generally informal in format and rhythm. The following is what I arranged for you. Welcome to reading. I hope you will like it.

Modern Poetry after Rain 1 Morning after Rain

The air is mixed with the fragrance of plants.

Last night's three dry feelings have disappeared without a trace.

The city has dried up and the memory is wet.

There are clouds in the sky again.

The wind is whispering to the birds.

There is a little sadness hidden in that cloud.

Stroll gently in the sky

Yuan Ye in the forest is blooming with new green.

Life is like a newborn baby, smiling in the cradle.

In July, the mountains and rivers are intoxicated.

The endless corn is swaying in the wind.

As if welcoming the coming maturity.

All the sadness and sorrow disappeared in the wind.

Just as you come gently and go in a hurry.

The wind is clear and the clouds are light, and a joy occupies life.

Life blooms with new tenderness in joy.

The scars of memory were finally healed by the fiery July.

The sun finally came out, neither too late nor too early.

I walk in the sun and feel

The affection of every grass and tree, the loneliness of a soul

Enjoying the pity of the years, those plants

Singing in the wind and flowing in the air.

One touching poem after another, and I am happy for those poems.

It's wrapped. Can you mail it to your castle?

Can I light up your future in your confused days?

If you don't leave in such a hurry, I will do it for you.

It's too late to put on a warm coat.

From then on, where will the broken kite float?

Concerned about waiting day after day, my rainy season.

It's just beginning. I hope it's hot in July.

Drying everything in the dark, my dream is

Set sail, walk through the wind, walk through the rain and go out.

The rainy season without you is just a dream.

Think of me as a passer-by in your life.

So good, the sky is high and the clouds are light, and I have set foot on life.

On the journey, the sea of flowers bloomed for me.

Modern Poetry after Rain 2 Books after Rain

I want to be soft soil after the rain

Sip your lips and breathe fresh air.

Look up at the sky and clouds.

I want to be a piece of soil that you have trodden lightly.

I will leave your footprints in my shallow heart.

I want to be a camphor tree swaying after the rain.

Stretch leaves and soothe branches.

Let the wind, let the June wind help me.

I want to be the first leaf you see.

When I still have the last drop of cool rain

I want to be a bird after the rain.

Sing this day, sing this night's rain.

Pour love and blessings into your voice.

I'm the man you caught a glimpse of.

Just for you, I met the rain, not afraid of the mountains.

I want to do this. After the rain, you are happy and comfortable.

I hope you forget the faint sadness of last night.

Let the birds, let the green leaves, let the soft soil

I'm telling you, It's a Wonderful Life, I never leave you alone.

As long as you stick to yourself, always hope. ...

Modern Poetry 3 Pulsatilla after Rain

Pulsatilla likes to play in the bamboo garden and make friends with bamboo.

Bamboo has a slender body, and its branches are covered with green leaves, which are green and evergreen. Pulsatilla has a clear voice and can sing melodious songs. When he sang, the bamboo made a soft sound and beat the time.

Good singing! Bamboo praised.

No, you played very well. Pulsatilla suddenly remembered something and asked, When will you blossom? Like peach trees, plum trees and wintersweet, red flowers, white flowers and yellow flowers are beautiful!

It's rare for me to blossom in my life.

Flowers, as a result, can have children?

Not necessarily. In the soil around me, there are my children clamoring to be born. Look, some naughty children are coming out of the field.

Pulsatilla saw that some sharp heads really appeared in the mud, and they grew up happily.

Pulsatilla greeted warmly: hello, Xiaozhu!

Bamboo smiled. They are called bamboo shoots, not small bamboos. Besides, I can't speak yet.

How slow the bamboo shoots grow, as if they were still.

Bamboo shoots will grow tall soon.

It rained that night and it didn't stop until dawn.

The next morning, Pulsatilla flew to the bamboo garden again, stopped on the bamboo branch and wanted to sing a morning song.

Bamboo said happily, my child has grown taller.

It's a miracle that Pulsatilla looked down. Sharp and unkempt bamboo shoots, dressed in dark brown clothes, are tall and still growing rapidly.

Bamboo, what panacea did you give them last night?

The panacea is rain. My child is rich in nutrition, but short of water. When it rains, they drink like hell and shoot out of the ground like rockets!

Pulsatilla spread its wings and wished loudly: bamboo shoots, grow sturdily and quickly!

Modern Poetry after Rain 4 Thinking after Rain _

It was a quiet afternoon,

The sky is overcast and overcast.

It's raining in Mao Mao,

Sometimes my song stops, sometimes it starts,

The drizzle only wet the earth,

The spray didn't cool my shoes and clothes,

The rain knocked off many yellow leaves,

They say this tree is a French phoenix tree.

It's like a century-old statue that has weathered the wind and frost.

Full of thorns,

Put yourself and your skin together,

And some yellow balls fell down together.

I walked forward step by step with a small umbrella.

Lower your head and kick a ball and a leaf.

In a strange place,

No one knows the town where I live,

Or the name of a small town is like a fog,

No one has heard of it, and I can miss it.

Can I have a girl in my heart,

Think of me when you are happy,

Think of me when I'm lonely,

Think of me when I am sad,

Think of me when I am sad,

Oh, girl, do you remember,

There is a big mountain in the north of home.

You can sing and play,

You're wearing a flowered skirt, the wind blows a corner,

You said the skirt carried your laughter,

I don't know why.

O ~ girl, can you remember,

Long years have made you free and easy,

You go home at night,

Do you still remember me

My hair is yellow,

Still a little sad.

Future dreams and awakening!

Modern Poetry after Rain 5 It's sunny after the rain

Fog in the sky,

Under the clouds, it's raining,

Someone once said that it will be fine after the rain,

The drizzle drifted away.

How long does it take to clear up after the rain?

Quiet road, drizzle,

It can't cross, a kilometer's journey,

After the rain, the road was quiet.

It's sunny, so it takes a long time.

Drizzle, now, hazy.

It's sunny after the rain.

Someone once said that after the rain, it will clear up.

The drizzle drifted away.

On a quiet road, the drizzle is drifting away.

Through the world of you and me,

Crossing the road, in the mist,

I can't see your face clearly,

Maybe you're just passing by,

The sky is hazy.

I can't see your face clearly.

After the rain, the sun is shining,

Someone once said that after the rain, it will clear up.

Fog in the sky.

Overhead, the clouds are impenetrable.

I can't see clearly, opposite, people's faces.

Quiet rain, drifting away.

It's sunny after the rain.

Through the drizzle,

I can't see your face clearly.

The drizzle drifted away.

You used to walk in the drizzle.

The hazy figure flashed in the rain,

Whose eyes, eyes, hazy figure.

After the rain, the sun is shining,

Who knows, after a storm comes a calm, it started to rain, and it rained in Mao Mao.

After the rain, the sky is hazy.

I can't see your face clearly through the drizzle.

Modern Poetry after Rain 6 After Rain

Xi Murong

Life can also be a poem.

If you can let me move on slowly

Quietly looking forward to finding

The dusk in my arms is getting deeper and deeper.

Through the unknown mud

In the dark clouds

Finally shed tears for everyone

Missed or not missed encounters

In fact, life can always be a poem in the end.

After the rainstorm

My mind will be cleaner.

If you are willing to wait

All the floating clouds

Eventually, it will all flow into a river.

7 modern poems after rain: after rain

backbone

The green treetops are shining with golden light,

The square has become an ocean!

A group of barefoot children are in the water,

Happy as a fairy.

Little brother stepped on the water hard,

How high is the splash?

He shouted: "Sister, be careful, slip!"

Said he slipped!

He patted his muddy pants,

He said, "Shit, shit!"

And his happy red face,

But it exudes excitement and pride.

My little sister has two short pigtails,

Follow these muddy pants closely,

She bit her lip,

Grab the skirt,

Run gently and carefully,

I wish I could.

What a beautiful fall!