Far-reaching and vast, full of fantasy.
Youth is green, like a green bamboo, like an open grassland.
Full of infinite vitality and vigor.
Youth is red, like a burning flame, like the rising sun.
Full of energy and hope, willing to selflessly contribute light and warmth.
Youth is white, like snow and waves, like clouds and the moon, and Bai Jie is flawless.
I like a blank sheet of paper, I like writing words, and I like drawing the latest and most beautiful pictures.
Youth is colorless. As the wind changes endlessly, as the fog is gorgeous and charming.
Indulge it and regret it for life; Ride it and ride the wind and waves.
Youth is colorful. With it, your life will be colorful.
Youth is a beautiful poem and a beautiful song.
Let's grasp it sincerely and let the flowers of youth bloom in four seasons.
youth
Is the cloud still hovering in the sky?
The flower of youth bloomed without hesitation.
Someone said?
Youth petals treasured in life photo album
Maybe just?
A pair of eyes that can never be forgotten?
An exciting smile.
What am I trying to say?
Light of youth?
When Ran Ran rises, will it be bright?
The flower of youth?
Will it shine after wind, frost, rain and snow?
The course of youth?
Writing a magnificent chapter requires constant fighting.
2. Poetry of youth
Youth is a song.
A song that never gives up.
Youth is a kind of
A never-ending river
Youth is a book.
Never get tired of reading.
Youth is a cup.
Endless tea
Youth is a building.
Standing on the top of the national forest
Carve the footprints of thousands of young people in Qian Qian.
Youth is a building.
Knowledge pagoda
Sprinkle the sweat of thousands of young people in Qian Qian.
Youth is a thriving tree.
Stand the test of wind and rain
Youth is a flower.
A budding bud
Want to show the world your unique charm.
I use passionate
Heart of youth
Give yourself a gift of youth
That is a poem of youth.
Believe in the future
forefinger
When cobwebs mercilessly sealed my stove.
When the smoke of ashes sighs the sorrow of poverty
I still stubbornly smooth away the ashes of disappointment.
Write with beautiful snowflakes: believe in the future.
When my purple grapes turn into dew in late autumn
When my flowers snuggle up to other people's feelings
I still stubbornly use frosted vines.
Write on the desolate land: believe in the future.
I want to use my fingers to stir the waves that rush to the horizon.
I want to hold the sun in my hand.
The warm and beautiful pen flickers with the dawn.
Write with a child's pen: believe in the future.
I believe in the future.
Yes, I believe that people's eyes in the future
She brushed away the eyelashes of history.
She has a student who can read through the years.
No matter what people think of our rotting bodies.
Those lost blues, the pain of failure.
It was tears of emotion and deep sympathy.
Or give a contemptuous smile and bitter ridicule?
I firmly believe that people are interested in our spine.
Countless explorations, lost ways, failures and successes.
I will definitely give a warm, objective and fair evaluation.
Yes, I am anxiously waiting for their comments.
Friends, believe in the future.
Believe in indomitable efforts
Young people who believe in overcoming death.
Believe in the future and love life.
University Campus Culture/Songs of Jane Eyre
There are still a few kind flowers left on the lawn.
The sun is still burning warmly.
Infatuated sparrows confide their autumn worries by the dormitory.
Without You
Sitting next to the familiar teaching building
With the still sunset
see
Hand of the years
An earth wall that erodes youth
No youthful laughter.
How lonely the sky should be.
Seeing the scenery of life from a distance
Sweet and sour feeling
Quanjunlin
The brother who sleeps in the upper bunk
My old classmate.
Are you still whispering those old whispers?
The leaves of acacia trees have fallen.
My heart has been intoxicated for a long time.
On the school road shaded by Mulan
The bell rang like a flood.
Countless young students passed by.
ceaselessly
Sunshine is like language.
Moisten my affectionate eyes
Wave a hand
Farewell to Jingjing Campus
In a bitter cup full of coffee
I started looking.
The smell of sugar cubes