Poetry recitation in praise of youth

Youth, short-lived, is gorgeous, like a meteor, giving off dazzling light, but it can't escape the lost fate after all. The following is a poem reading in praise of youth. I hope it helps you.

"That year's youth" dream, slept for a winter.

Start running in spring

How many smiles are spreading in the depths of flowers?

How many birds are hiding in the trembling jungle?

I've been looking for it.

but

But I can't find you.

I can't find myself either.

confused

With a sword in his hand.

I can't penetrate the dawn.

I'm lost.

In the lush swamp

Wandering alone

That summer morning

Pomegranate flowers are covered with branches

I am waiting for a beautiful meeting under the flower tree.

You came with dignity.

I dare not look up.

If, if possible. ...

When the exquisite jade language

Through the heart

(That's it) suddenly.

In this way, in the wonderful breath.

Lost track of you

In green ignorance

Wandering alone

The wind has gone to a distant place.

I miss that it's still the ink in the nib.

Alone, in the window of a bungalow.

Look into the distance from a height

Clouds stand quietly on the horizon.

How many people understand her sadness?

The gentleness of bowing your head and the calmness of raising your head.

This is just an illusion.

If you lose your dream,

What are your hopes?

Youth, sighing

Ride past

Crossing the gap of time

Can't see elegance and grace

Can't smell excitement

A plain dress looks pale and beautiful.

I sing for boys and girls. I sing for boys and girls.

I sing in the morning.

I sing hope.

I sing about things that belong to the future.

I sing about the power of growth.

My song

You can fly.

Fly to the hearts of those young people

Find the place where you stay.

Everything that makes me tremble is like grass.

Happy or beautiful thoughts.

Into sound.

Fly in all directions.

Whether it's like a breeze

Or a piece of sunshine.

Gently from my strings

The sadness of losing adulthood

I am young again.

My blood is bleeding fast.

I am full of dreams and longing for life.

Xi Murong, youth.

All endings have been written.

All the tears have also flowed out.

I suddenly forgot what kind of beginning this was.

On that ancient summer day that is gone forever.

No matter how I pursue it.

Young you are just passing by.

And your smile is extremely shallow.

Gradually disappeared into the mist after sunset.

Then open the yellow title page.

Fate has bound it badly.

I looked at it again and again, with tears in my eyes.

But I have to admit.

Youth is a book that is too hasty.