Article 1: Ocean
I heard from the bottom of the sea.
An old voice, cheerful.
Praise the roses blooming on the sea
Winged pier
Soari
Article 1: Ocean
I heard from the bottom of the sea.
An old voice, cheerful.
Praise the roses blooming on the sea
Winged pier
Soaring in the afterglow of the sunset at sea
A band composed of 1 1 conch.
Play a symphony at sea
I am on the blue grass.
Holding the arm of youth
Walk side by side to the light of hope
I like the smell of late autumn.
Wine brewed with blue sky.
Celebrate the harvest at a bonfire party.
Time is so beautiful.
-How can I miss the feast of the ocean?
Chapter II: The Sea
I want to be a loyal master at sea.
And the garbage torn by the storm
And with the help of the king, the magnificent picture of ancient glory.
All my pride comes from a thrilling tide.
Facing the rolling snow waves
I am like a silent face, facing a friend who will live forever.
Full of songs
Forming and growing at the peak of the dawn deck
Raise your fist over your shoulder and swear to the sun.
I am a rusty anchor buried deep in the mud.
Full of songs
I am lucky to have the nature and texture of aquatic plants.
Look at a white seagull rowing down.
Charming ups and downs of time-even if not.
The wave completed another heartbeat.
Our horizons are gradually broadening.
Casting an eternal page with faith and persistence
To the vast blue
Jin Tuo
The horizon is a blue belt.
Tie a knot in your heart.
The water of missing is too full.
A bottle of wine that will inevitably make your heart ache.
People from the Sun Tribe sing here.
At that moment, the sky was beautiful, and my poem could be one of many tributaries.
Walking into the sea is like walking into myself and my blood.
Free and unrestrained in the sun
The wind is full of sails.
Go to deep blue
Avoid countless reefs and plot to defeat the dark clouds with wisdom and strength.
Tear the black spell
In thunder and lightning
Believe in hardened steel
The wild waves on the young face aggravated the roughness.
The hand at the helm was tempered by the sea breeze.
The golden arrow of the sun is reflected by water.
Caixia weaves flags and gathers strength.
Pieces of white sails and fishing nets-sparkling
The light of bronze vicissitudes panel
Towards the sea of the sun at dawn
We will never hesitate, never shrink back and never tremble.
Even if the dark vortex may overturn the young hull at any time.
I tried my best to find a river.
The ocean of severe pain will return to calm.
We will regard sailors as our ancestral profession.
Flying for a long time in the beautiful and dangerous sea of existence.
I also wrote a lot of stray songs.
Our pure and simple poems
And the most harmonious music forgotten are written in the nautical diary.
Rope-like arms put the sun
The promotion from the level may be in response to the call.
improve
I bowed deeply.
Chapter 3: The sea, my hometown.
I want to write about you in silence, but I'm confused.
You never stop surging
Surging. You are not a river in the south of the Yangtze River.
Soft, delicate and as dense as brittle bones.
As for Fu and absolute beauty, their amorous feelings are enchanting.
It's a little lame, too. There are no distant historical sites here.
Show off your hometown like friends in the south.
There is always a moral-strong homesickness.
Like rain, duckweed blooms in the middle of the lake.
Vortex, I suspect rouge is green.
Qinhuai river, poetry of falling into the English
Glowing with green bitterness
Those ambiguities were a disgrace to the Five Dynasties and Ten Countries.
Li Yu's quatrains are too empty.
On the other side-a narrow river.
Broken without leaving a trace.
I used to fantasize that there were talented people here.
Maybe this is a disaster.
Legends in Vicissitudes: Bangqiu and Qixingtuo
Stone trough, tiger beach and tiger tail
Blue tangled reef
Ruins of the post station, clay pots under the soil.
Millennium lotus seeds bloom; There are rock paintings
Is it a cow or a coitus group?
Buried fishing village beach, Asia's top square.
Chinese watches have replaced lighthouses and frivolous sculptures.
Ruins are the soul of politicians.
Deng Hua is as crazy as wildfire every night.
I'm tired of today's city.
Like a wandering girl
Profiteers and politicians of the past
Revelry and plunder. My persistent sea
Mother never abandoned her.
Children, like the monument of this city, will last forever.