Poetry in the heyday of the party in the past century

Poetry:

Looking at a snow in spring

Catch the spring train.

along with

Sword of the season

Scrape mercilessly

A restless bud

Let the ice crack all winter.

extend

Holding a hunting flag

pursue

A snow in spring

Step on it

The equator in spring

A heavy snow will be precious.

Dialogue between Spring and Snow

Inclined chamber

Flowing wantonly

Snowflakes float in six directions.

Give instructions

Send a wet message.

In fact, spring has nothing to do with a snow.

Very suddenly

Abnormal cold weather in early spring

Grab everyone's love

look into the sky

The connection between heaven and earth

Intense and pure

be on the decline

Head-on is waiting

A gift from the old man of time

You turn the east wind into branches,

Let the birds fly to the blue sky happily;

You bring grass to vilen,

Make a thousand flowers smile.

You brought sunshine to the valley.

Turn snow into spring water;

You bring drizzle to the fields,

Let the seeds smell the soil.

You bring us spring,

This precious gift is better than gold;

You had the best time of the year,

Give each of us a share.

365 days,

Not many people, not many;

Look at us-

If I can arrange the best for you.

Lazy people hang around all day,

You just slip away from him;

Put a lot of unfinished business,

A brain was thrown in front of him.

Confused people are absent-minded all day,

He doesn't know that you have gone far;

People try to catch up with you,

He always shakes his head and says it's still early.

We are not lazy or confused,

No one among the young pioneers will fall behind;

Because we know,

Once you are gone, don't look back.

Piles of building materials on the construction site,

In a blink of an eye, it became a factory and a tall building;

Cross the river, cross the tunnel,

The new railway is moving forward every day.

In every inch of the motherland,

Everyone grabs you and refuses to relax;

Only those who waste time,

Will blush again and again.

Believe me, time man,

We won't waste a minute;

When you tear up the calendar every night,

Can you give the motherland a blank sheet of paper?

I will study harder this year,

Everything in the four modernizations depends on skill;

Even raising cattle,

Not without scientific knowledge.

I want to make my body stronger this year.

Prepare to mine and drill coal seam in the future;

Future workers,

Will you get sick often?

Time, please have a look.

What a nice gift you gave us!

The spring is bright and endless,

The mountains and rivers of the motherland are smiling everywhere!

The rhyme of spring poetry

Spring is coming slowly.

Calm and gentle

These flowers open in the form of petals.

Brilliant red cheeks are still smiling.

The grass is covered.

Green dress

one by one

gradually

It is the green wave on the vilen.

Walking on the path of spring-

With the endless tenderness of spring

Endless secret language

Trembling with huifeng.

the hearts connect with string

An ancient ballad

It attracted the laughter of the children. ...

The pace of early spring remains.

It is a bud on a branch.

It is a bud in the flower bed.

It's the crisp cry of old Yan Guichun.

Thin mud hits people's soles.

Birds are singing spring poems.

A light blue breeze flows through your fingers.

Soft rain falls from my head. ...

A spring rain

Dance lightly and gracefully

spring rain

soft

transparent

Harmonious

The sky uses this needle-like thing

Weave into transparent cloth

Rain falls on the river.

Halo.

The circle spread out—

Add the breath of spring.

A gurgling stream

The rolling waves carry the fragrance of petals.

And turquoise in Ye Er.

Rush forward happily

Green spring water

Walk comfortably with the wind

Ripples—

Sometimes there are some thirsty swallows.

Dive down

Whoosh-

Take a sip of cool river water.

Fly high into the air again

It seems that spring water is a part of spring.

You can use it to turn over a new leaf

Even in dreams.

Recall the sound of spring water

in fact

I only know a little about spring.

I'm still superficial about spring.

Make it superficial.

I don't want to know what is in spring.

Let me keep it

A vague impression of spring, right?

I'm sitting alone

I sit alone; Summer sunlight

Die in the light of a smile;

I saw it leave. I looked at it.

Disappear from misty hills and windless grasslands;

Thoughts are in my soul, generate,

My heart succumbed to its power;

Tears welled up in my eyes,

Because I can't express my feelings,

At that sacred and peaceful moment,

Serious joy around slipped in.

I asked myself, "Oh, why in heaven?"

Refused to give me that precious gift,

This glorious gift was given to many people.

Let them express their thoughts in poetry! "

"Those dreams surround me," I said.

"From the happy time of carefree childhood;

Fanatical ideas provide all kinds of fantasies.

Because life is still in its prime. "

But now, when I want to sing,

My fingers touch the silent strings;

The chorus of the lyrics is still

"Don't struggle; Everything is in vain. "

Poetry in spring

Or did the window of the past day open for you to look around?

What can't be torn off is still waving in the cold wind

Beijing may be really far away.

I didn't wake you up on the other side of the mountain.

You collect the wind and the moon.

Let all eyes insert coordinates.

She walked past your branches quietly.

You stamped your feet and ran all over the city with your face flushed.

I think of the songs edited by the grass and call out your name.

The river runs along the wicker bank.

Look at your makeup, look at your charm.

The wisp I spilled for you

You don't want to drink to reunion in this rain.

I rolled up my ankle and there was a little scratch on the blood sample.

Pick up those sharp fragments and watch you giggle.

You talk about nails on the wall and love in the oven.

Speaking of the fable about snow, I still giggled.

She turned off the music and gently raised spring dance.

Prose: Chun Xue

These days, catkins began to float, like poplars, furry and floating in the air. Spring is their season.

Walking on the road, catkins are the color of grass, but they are softer than grass. It fell on us without feeling. It attaches its elegance to the spring dance, and its dance is a rotating dance with the wind as the melody, which entangles our thoughts in the circle.

The green color in spring is getting deeper and deeper, and together with Yang Shuhua, it fades evenly. The tree outside the window, we can't see whether there are catkins staying at the treetops, only know that the color is still so soft, like the satin of sunshine, falling from the sky, only mixed with a few rays of green. Catkin often gives romantic people wonderful inspiration. The words and poems written with them don't show that they are describing themselves.

The diary was placed in front of the window, and several catkins floated in the wind and landed on the diary with light green patterns. When I found it, it didn't leave, and stood on it gently. This is a good background, but not a good home. I gently closed my diary. I want to leave a ray of its light green spring in my diary. After thinking about it, I opened the page just now, lifted it to a wide land, blew it gently, and it floated away. I think it belongs to the wind and this spring. The bells in the distance and the wings of bronze feathers appeared when I lamented the time, and they passed away at lightning speed before I could meditate. I feel it running, and when it passes the catkins, it is enough to make the catkins near it turn several times.

As a result, those light things that lost their way once again forgot where they came from and where they were going.

Every year, catkins fall. When the sky is really flying, it is not so elegant. It is a bit heavy, like an old spring that is about to leave. There are some words left. The ground is also covered with catkin balls, mixed with dust and aggradation. There are a few shades of gray in the green, and the streets on both sides turn green from a distance. Close up, it is a kind of intertwined color, which makes people feel sorry and reminds people of that young spring. I don't know.

If there is no drizzle and breeze in spring, it will be a completely silent season. He has no voice to sing a farewell song or say goodbye to the earth. It's gone. No one has found it.

I am young at this time of spring. I like sitting on a high place alone. The wind blowing on my face is mixed with coolness. Come and see me when I think about it. The sunshine is sitting beside me. The golden noon sunshine, like the catkins and the breeze in this spring, is deeply hidden in the noon of an early spring in my childhood. The flying bell won't erase it ...