Poetry suitable for recitation: a five-or six-minute performance of modern poetry

Yu Guangzhong is nostalgic

Homesickness is a small stamp when I was a child. I'm here and my mother is there.

When I grow up, homesickness is a narrow ticket. I'm here and the bride is there.

Later, homesickness was a low grave. I'm outside and my mother is inside.

Homesickness is a shallow strait now, and I am on this continent, on that side.

Spring rain and autumn rain-dedicated to the beloved teacher

I like it best.

Listen to your lecture.

Soak quietly in the spring rain

Green grass and green grass

A hopeful color

How many years later

I will still think of you.

Look at the fertile land in autumn.

colorful

From that little green

Farewell to Xu zhimo of Cambridge

I left quietly,

When I came softly;

I waved gently,

Say goodbye to the western clouds.

Golden willow by the river,

Is the bride in the sunset,

Shadows in the waves,

Ripple in my heart.

Green grass on the soft mud,

Oily, swaying at the bottom of the water;

In the gentle waves of He Kang River,

I would like to be an aquatic plant!

A pool in the shade of elm trees,

Not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky;

Crushed between floating algae,

Precipitate a rainbow-like dream.

Looking for dreams? Lift a long pole,

Back to the greener grass,

Full of stars,

Play songs in a starry place.

But I can't play songs,

Quiet is a farewell flute;

Summer insects are also silent for me,

Silence is Cambridge tonight!

I left quietly,

Just as I came quietly;

I waved my sleeve,

Don't take away a cloud.

When you're old, Ye Zhi

When you are old, gray-haired and sleepy,

Take a nap by the fire, please write down this poem.

Read slowly and recall the tenderness of your eyes in the past.

Recall the heavy shadows of their past;

How many people love you when you are young and happy,

Worship your beauty, hypocrisy or sincerity,

Only one person loves your pilgrim soul,

Love the painful wrinkles on your aging face;

I hung my head, by the red fire,

Whispering sadly about the passing of love,

On the mountain overhead, it walked slowly.

There is a face hidden among a group of stars.

A poem by North Island & gt-

When the janitor sleeps.

You turn around with the storm

What grows old in hugs is

The Rose of Time

When the bird road defines the sky

You look back at the sunset

What happened in the disappearance was

The Rose of Time

When the knife bends in the water

You stepped on the flute to cross the bridge.

The biggest problem in this plot is

The Rose of Time

When the stroke is beyond the horizon

You were awakened by the sound of gongs in the East.

What the echo shows is that

The Rose of Time

This moment will always be in the mirror.

The door to rebirth at this moment

This door leads to the sea.

The Rose of Time