The more modern poem (seven words) in spring should be in the fifth grade of primary school.

One,

mountain stream

That girl is like a winter jasmine.

The wind blew her to the horizon.

Blowing into a cloud, the waves decorated her dream.

A cloud for you to watch.

Suffering turned into eternal scars in the long night.

Patch on the calendar

Page by page, strip your heart.

now

The mountain that winter jasmine crossed.

Become very small

Small enough to fit into my heart and melt into my dreams.

Second,

At the moment we parted.

Peach blossoms, like a full stop, wither under the first step.

That poem can't go on.

Sprinkle the rain on the ground and pick it up as much as possible.

Take your feet away from the mountain and let the spring flow.

The pine needle stung a crescent moon on the horizon.

Back to the hands that were released in a hurry yesterday.

The grass is withered, how to water the dew?

Ah! A friend asked me

Winter jasmine is in bloom again, can spring be far behind?

I asked around.

Asking about the stream that crosses the steps of the winter jasmine.

Ask about the flowers and birds on Chalin Mountain, and so on.

But in the place where we separated.

Look at the peach blossom, still falling.

Third,

At night, too much arrival

The window lattice is gray, and the moonlight is quietly counting one end.

A listless beard and hair

And the beard and hair are already like a white-haired brush.

Brush the minute hand and the second hand on the road

Brush the helpless window lattice

Whenever the spring thunder rings

I dreamed of a farewell mountain when lightning flashed and thundered.

Even if, listen to the parting words again.

Fourth,

Who uses pine leaves as needles and vines as threads?

Embroider a scarf and lend it to me for 500 years.

Embroidering a blue sky and white clouds makes me long for the rain in Mao Mao.

Who is kissing all the way by the small bridge and flowing water?

Leave a string of laughter for the fish to suck. And savor it for a lifetime.

Who is waiting for a wordless gobbledygook at the window of the post office?

Let love go and let the winter jasmine bloom more beautifully.

I write in a quiet land and on the distant horizon.

"I wish you peace and happiness"