It is a progressive learning to extract good words and sentences from the short stories of the fourth grade of modern poetry. A famous saying may change a person's life track. Abstraction is the same as abstraction. Good words are an indispensable part of life. It is better to extract the short stories of the fourth grade of modern poetry than to write bad essays.
Modern Poetry 1 Excerpt from the fourth grade short story Dreams and Poetry
Are common experiences,
Are ordinary images,
Came to my dream by accident,
How many novel tricks have been changed!
Are normal emotions,
Are all common languages,
I met a poet by chance,
How many novels and poems have changed!
You don't know the power of wine until you are drunk.
Love is the only way to understand;
You can't be my poem,
Just like I can't dream your dreams.
You are April on earth.
I said you are an April day on earth.
Laughter lit up the wind in all directions.
Bright souls dance and change in the glory of spring.
You are a cloud in the sky in early April.
A breeze blew at dusk.
The planetesimals accidentally flashed by.
The drizzle fell in front of the flowers.
That's lightness, that's elegance. who are you
You are wearing a crown of flowers.
You are naive and solemn.
You are the full moon every night.
After the snow melts, the goose turns yellow. You look like.
Fresh and budding green, you are
Gentle and happy, the water is in your dream place, floating with the white lotus.
You are the flower of a tree.
It's Yan whispering between the beams.
-You are love, warmth and hope.
You are the April day on earth!
Two excerpts from the fourth grade short story of the modern poem "Goodbye to the Rain"
I really want to close the car door and run to you,
Crying on your broad shoulders:
"No way, really no way."
I really want to hold your hand,
Flee to the sky and fields of Chu Qing,
Don't flinch or look back.
I really want to collect all the tenderness,
With eyes that can't be appealed,
Let you finally wake up.
I really want to, really want to. ......
My pain turned into sadness,
I can't think enough and I can't say it.
prediction
This heartbeat day has finally arrived.
The footsteps of the sighing night are approaching.
I can't hear the whispers of leaves and the night wind clearly.
The graceful hoof sound made by elk when they galloped on the moss path.
Tell me, tell me with your bell.
Are you a young god in prophecy?
You must come from the gloomy south,
Tell me the moonlight there, the sunshine there,
Tell me how the spring breeze blows open the flowers.
How the swallows fell madly in love with Populus davidiana.
I will fall asleep in your dreamy singing,
I seem to remember that warmth, but I seem to forget it.
Please stop and stop your long journey.
Come in, there's a tiger mattress for you to sit on.
Let me burn the fallen leaves I pick up every autumn,
Listen to me sing my own song in a low voice.
That song will be as gloomy and high as fire,
Fire will tell the life of fallen leaves.
Don't go forward, there is an endless forest ahead.
The ancient trees are marked by wild animals,
Half-dead vines and pythons are intertwined,
There is no place for the stars in the thick leaves.
You will be too timid to let go of the second step,
When you hear the empty echo of the first step.
Do you have to go? When I walk with you,
My feet know every safe way,
I can keep singing the songs I forgot,
I will give it to you, I will give it to you.
The night cut us off,
You can look me in the eye in the blink of an eye.
You didn't listen to my exciting song,
Your feet won't stop because of my trembling,
Like a quiet breeze blowing through this dusk,
Disappeared, disappeared your proud steps. ......
Ah, you are finally as speechless as you predicted.
Young God, can't you speak when you die?
Flowering tree
How to let you meet me
In my most beautiful moment
for this reason
I prayed in front of the Buddha for 500 years.
Pray for Buddha to let us have a dusty relationship.
Buddha made me a tree.
Follow the path you may take.
Under?the?sun
Carefully full of flowers.
Every flower carries my previous hopes.
When you get close,
Listen carefully
Trembling leaves
This is the passion I am waiting for.
When you walked under the tree, you didn't notice me.
On the ground behind you
My friend,
Not falling petals
But my withered heart.