Because it knows the taste of the west wind
Maple red autumn
It feels the taste of the collective.
These geese line up in the sky.
It depends on the tension of the wind
Yanluo beach
It knows the taste of sureness.
Huangliu goose
It knows the taste of spring.
melissa
It knows the smell of flowers.
He pingting
It knows what July filariasis is.
Love turned into sadness.
It knows the taste of affection.
drink
I didn't know it was strong.
……
The blue sky knows the taste of white clouds.
The earth tasted everything.
Chinese Valentine's Day; Qixi Festival
The Milky Way knows the taste of barriers.
magpie bridge
Know what it's like to meet.
crescent
Do you know the taste of willow tips?
Red Plum
Know the dance of snowflakes all over the sky
on hand
I smell you.
In contemplation
I understand the smell of lonely sails and distant offshore shadows.
On a red background
I remember the torture of waving the veil.
In (someone's) dream
I experienced the taste of the dream curtain tears wet pillow.
Lips know the taste of lips.
Hands know the warmth of hands.
The heart knows the taste of boiling.
beauty
When can I feel your heartbeat?
Taste Modern Poetry 2 Xia Feng blows from the seaside.
Mixed with the fragrance of June
You are on the sea stone.
Are you still thinking about your distant hometown?
The sunrise lit up the seaside.
Slowly through your heart wall
Beauty is the shining of your brilliance.
But never hide the sadness on the sea stone.
The waves rolled in from the sea.
Wave after wave
Brush the sea stone lightly, brush the clothes lightly.
Touch a trembling heart
The setting sun dyed the sky red.
And dyed your heart red.
That summer no longer belongs to you.
Lost the flavor of youth
Taste modern poetry 3 exhausted my imagination and spent a sleepless night.
Clenched empty hands are still desolate.
The dry summer temperature becomes the symbol.
Has a vague connection with disappearance.
That happy formula is full of temptations.
Floating at night and at night
The continuous silence outlined the outline of the ending.
Full of loneliness
The voice of green tea getting cold and drowning is no longer enthusiastic.
The beginning of the game is doomed to gorgeous decline.
Fingerprint is just a happy comfort.
From the moment of withdrawal, the taste began to blur.
We will eventually become history.
History will solidify lost happiness.
When wandering in a long dream again.
Looking for the promise left by the change of seasons.
There is another flower outside the window.
Summer is over.
Taste modern poetry for 4 days to lengthen the twilight.
The cement road is tired of noise.
Ye Mi gasped.
Love my friends.
Why haven't you come yet?
soon
Summer vacation is coming.
Let's pack our bags.
Allow me to be passionate.
And my pride.
Ask me why I called on you.
Do not ask for help
I owe you a lot.
I know
Want to turn your beauty into a ballad?
Know how to clear the way, know how to bridge.
What's more, fate is ingenious.
Expectations in life
A rare party
The taste of summer
Taste modern poetry 5. Sit alone and watch the clear sky in early autumn.
The wind is like a swing for years.
Shake off the past
Shake that road after prosperity.
Autumn is ripe and happy.
Such as an aunt who buys fruits and vegetables.
The punchline line is piled up layer by layer, and my mouth is trembling.
The smell is overflowing.
The branches and leaves are still lush and the roots are deep.
The heart can't hide, and the cicada is eager.
The next few years are unknown.
Will send away an autumn.
Pick up the fluttering butterfly language and cover up a sadness.
Leave a feeling of leisure, in the wind
Those free and easy, thorough and thick beauty.
Will quietly step into the painting.
Of course, what is left behind is also a beauty that must be replaced.
Today, I am interested in the beauty of these disturbances.
Noisy beauty is no longer indifferent.
A harvest season, a full season.
Pick up a blank sheet of paper
Apply a season's fragrance
Like an intriguing idle cloud, its posture is leisurely.
Nature without any modification.
Modern poetry in June is a bit slow.
Raindrops are floating in the dark.
Like a glass of red wine.
The taste of returning to Gansu
The smell of zongzi is still floating.
An irresistible festive atmosphere
Artemisia argyi is hanging by the window.
And this is just the call of missing.
Sunshine stubbornly refuses to care about the world.
The warmth between people is disdainful.
talk with a smile
The warmth of holidays
Never break my promise on the Dragon Boat Festival.
People's expectations are just wasted years.
The emotion of consuming festivals.
Maybe, maybe now, I can only savor the fragrant Dragon Boat Festival in my memory ~
Taste Modern Poetry 7 Happiness is a taste,
Dandelion is not homeless.
But the satisfaction is that
Dance freely
Because its heart is full of hope.
Hope for happiness
Struggle with fate
It believes it will find a sunny place.
That's its home
There are fragrant flowers there.
A charming bride.
Happiness is an agreement,
With Liang Zhu, become a butterfly.
The wings are full of quiet wind.
The antenna extends as far forward as possible.
As if closer to the sun.
The sunshine witnessed their gentleness.
romantic
And happiness that others can't see.
Agreement,
III will not change.
Happiness is a kind of missing.
500 years ago, you walked on the path of the green flag.
Walk over with an oil-paper umbrella
500 years later, you are somewhere again.
Walking romantically in a fluttering long skirt
My thoughts began 500 years ago.
expand
The sky is the starting point of missing?
Who knows!
Happiness is happiness.
Decoration needs no ornaments.
No dust pollution is needed.
Cherish happiness
Only you cherish it.
It can call itself a happy self.
Here you are.
A cup of cold coffee keeps you awake all night.
The written words, the unwritten songs.
Time should be ended.
Soft wind, broken sand.
The sun is shining and blue.
The wind is rustling, and the white house by the sea
I built it, slept on the sofa and opened my memory.
Full of bitterness, but also a smile.
Picking the fallen fruit is a gift.
Lin Haitao Road leaves no roots.
Sad for a leaf and build a warm grave.
Write down my commemorative love.
Every leaf has my story.
Unfinished, I forgot who I am and where I came from.
But I haven't forgotten why I went.
A little starlight on the beach has made countless sorrows.
Every kind of sadness has a lonely shadow,
Who is crying,
I touched it gently,
I can't find your roots.
A vacant smile.
Let the mind wander in the whole ocean with the wind.
Listening to the sea breeze, it really smells like your hair.
Gentleness makes me melt, gentleness makes me obsessed.
Be a passer-by between heaven and earth, don't be sad for yourself.
Become a feather and float across the sea.
Go to someone and gently touch the tip of your ear.
Leave my smell.
Taste modern poetry 9 mood is teetering in the abyss.
Think of the cold words in my ear,
The heavy footsteps on the desolate forest path.
Helpless smile,
Maybe there is no room for tear drops in this pure place. ......
The rain in Mao Mao is floating without restraint ... I can only walk helplessly.
Helpless smile.
The leaves are falling,
You are singing by the roadside.
The feeling of the wind ... the ethereal sound,
Your eyes,
There is a faint blue ... gloomy and melancholy.
You're smiling,
Smile a little.
Eyes looking at the silent sky ... as melancholy as the wind. ......
Just stood and waited for a while,
Mo Ming's floating association ... those deep eyes,
There seems to be no shadow of tears.
Fallen leaves float on your shoulders,
The breeze shakes your hair wildly,
At present,
Dancing,
Fly brilliantly ......
I've never seen you so depressed,
Let go of the clenched hand,
I was in tears ... I jumped on it,
Looking into your blue eyes,
There seems to be transparent fragments there.
Turn your head,
You smiled,
As clear and ethereal as the wind. ......
So quiet,
A path in a secluded forest ......
The two girls snuggled up together,
The girl as blue as blue is laughing. ......
Smile brightly,
Including ... scenery that has never been seen before. ......
The wind is blowing,
Blow off the leaves of a season. ......
The taste of modern poetry 10 hometown is the memory of childhood.
With the passage of time,
Slowly precipitate and become full.
No matter where you are,
You can rely on this warm breath,
Let a tired heart return to hometown.
The smell of hometown is the smoke from the kitchen chimney.
Every night,
Every family in the country exudes fragrant rice.
Filled with homesickness at dusk.
Take a deep breath,
You will indulge in the streets of your dreams.
The faint night sky is filled with the breath of hometown.
The bright moon.
As soon as you leave, the moon will leave,
You are in the street, the moon is in the street,
When you get home, the moon is at your door.
It was a kind of waiting like a shadow.
The taste of hometown is ripe wheat,
The smell of cooked corn,
And the smell of fried peanuts,
baked sweet potato ...
In the flavor of hometown,
It has the fragrance of earth and the fragrance of jujube flowers all over the trees.
Like in a hazy drizzle,
Walking on the path in the field,
Watching the lush crops thrive.
Step on the ground and take a deep breath. ...
The smell of earth in the air,
What a pleasant and comfortable mood!
The taste of hometown is still the old house when I was a child.
Although both parents are gone,
But it can leave their breath.
Seeing the familiar house,
As if my parents were right in front of me,
Everything in my eyes is so kind and natural.
The taste of hometown always gives people warmth and nostalgia.
Is the fragrance left by the years,
Eternity in memory, tranquility in time.
When you are in a bad mood, go to your hometown!
Listen to birds, smell dogs,
Talk to flowers and trees, and chat with neighbors.
All the flavor of hometown comes from the soul.
Whether it is strong or weak, bitter or salty,
It's all in the bones.
Only by washing away lead and Qian Fan can we understand,
Only after serious experience,
In order to taste the ups and downs.