Mentally sound
The thorn of a rose,
It's the hatred of those who crawl and pick.
This is her own comfort.
three three
Mom!
Put aside your troubles,
Let me fall into your arms,
Only you are the destination of my soul.
Bing Xin's Modern Poetry
Three or four.
Create new land,
Not rolling waves,
But the tiny deposits below it.
Sanwu
Thousands of angels,
Get up and sing praises to the children;
Kid!
In his little body,
With a great soul.
Sanliu
Sunlight shines through the cracks in the stone,
Small thorn fruit said:
"lend me your head,
Liberated your imprisoned self! "
The box came out,
A hard rock,
It split in two.
pseudo-ginseng
Artist!
You and the world,
Is it always separated by a heavy layer of light and fog?
Sanba
At the well site,
Listen to the river under the gurgling mountain-
Cold wind,
Blow-drying hair;
Horizon-ground,
Add a few more lights when you turn around.
It's a star,
Or a lamp?
The third nine-day solstice after beginning of winter-the coldest day in winter.
At the beginning of the dream,
In the clouds at the foot of the mountain,
I glanced at her.
Chaoyang!
Being apart from you,
It's so sad,
How can I see you again now!
40%
My friend!
Don't believe me,
With infinite troubles,
I'm just a weak person driven by ideological trend!