Three minutes of modern poetry 1
In the warm wind season, the sky is as clear as washing.
Catkin flying all over the sky, falling in the quietly budding earth.
Young life squirms in the soil.
Burst music is flowing in my heart.
Young man, we have an unchanging oath.
Young people, we will firmly look further.
At the starting line, from the moment we set out, we were destined to chase the rising sun.
A determined and confident face, waiting for the dawn of victory.
Hold that drop of sweat tightly and let tears flow on your face.
Just for the moment when the applause rang.
Youth has no regrets, since I chose the blue sky, I chose to fly.
Even if one day there will be a pair of wings that bleed blood.
Since we have chosen struggle, we have chosen wind and rain.
Even if there are thorns on the road in the future
Since we have chosen the path of life, youth has decided it.
Youth is doomed to struggle and impermanence after our choice.
Youth, since it has been chosen, has ushered in hardships.
Youth, after our choice, becomes gorgeous and brilliant.
Look, the beating flame is the full bloom of youth.
Listen, jubilant footsteps are the voice of youth chasing dreams.
Blood is tireless in young people's bodies.
Passion is strong and light on the limbs of young people.
Let's sing the hymn of youth.
Cheer all the way, sing all the way, chase your dreams and fly away.
Three Minutes of Modern Poetry 2
Mom, can you hear me calling? Author: Zhuo
Shh! Listen.
Listen quietly.
A helpless voice came from the east.
He's on the phone.
squeal
Mom, mom
I long to return to your warm arms.
I hope to break free from the prison where the wicked are innocent of me.
I can't stand the ravages of the enemy any longer.
I can't stand the abuse of Japanese barbarians anymore.
In the 100 years since I left home.
I will always remember the sweetness of my mother's milk.
I have never forgotten that my mother's arms are called sonorous.
I also remember my name is Yanhuang.
mother
Please tell your brothers and sisters.
My son's name hasn't changed.
Senkaku is just another name to insult me.
My son will always be called Diaoyu Island.
Every drop of blood in my muscles.
Is the blood of China people.
I heard my son not far from the east.
Did I call you?
mother
Can you hear my call?
Mom, mom
Three Minutes of Modern Poetry 3
Youth is blue, like an endless clear sky, like a charming ocean.
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.
Three Minutes of Modern Poetry 4
Mother's Smile Author: Paradise Farmer
The thin figure is swaying.
In the dim light
The familiar warmth is engraved on my heart.
There is a shallow smile in the frolicking.
Softly pillow my pillow to sleep.
Grow up and go far, leave for a long time.
Let time sigh more and more clearly
Pain and tears are intertwined and ups and downs.
A shallow smile and a soft voice
There is always a chance to hug each other.
Easily resolve and instantly calm your heart.