One-minute poetry recitation for primary school students

Chrysanthemum withered in the autumn wind, yellow leaves and green grass withered in the autumn frost, but chrysanthemum stood proudly to meet the cold winter. I don't envy the delicate winter jasmine riding the wind in the bright spring, nor do I envy the water lotus playing in the hot sun. I praise you! Chrysanthemum because you are fearless in the face of wind and frost, I admire you! Chrysanthemum because you are not afraid of the cold, steadfast and unyielding "Rain Lane" Author: Dai Wangshu walking alone with an oil-paper umbrella in a long, lonely rain lane. I hope to meet a girl as sad as lilac. She is lilac-like color, lilac-like fragrance, lilac-like sadness, sadness in the rain, sadness and hesitation; She lingers in this lonely rain lane, holding an oil-paper umbrella like me, walking silently like me, indifferent, sad and melancholy. She approached silently and breathed a sigh of relief. She floated like a dream, dreamlike, sad and confused. Like a lilac field in a dream, this girl floats by me; She walked away quietly, far away, to the crumbling fence and across the rainy path. In the elegy of the rain, her color faded, her fragrance dispersed, even her sighing eyes and the melancholy of lilacs. Holding an oil-paper umbrella, I wandered alone in a long, lonely rain lane, hoping to float past a girl with a lilac knot. Take it out of context-You stand on the bridge and watch the scenery in Zhi Lin, and the people watching the scenery are watching you upstairs. The bright moon decorated your window, and you decorated other people's dreams. Author: Xi Murong Life can actually be a poem. If you can let me move on slowly, looking forward to looking for it quietly, I will eventually shed tears in the dark clouds of dusk, for all the encounters I missed or didn't miss. In fact, life can always be a poem in the end. My heart will be cleaner after the rainstorm. If you are willing to wait for all the clouds to finally come. It will flow into a river. At this time, my works in those years were embarrassing (* _ *) ... If I were a magic pen, I would come to the desert. Draw a shade for her to attract small butterflies of five colors. If I were a genius, I would come to a school for the disabled and draw bright eyes for them to make them healthy. If I were a genius, I would come to the bare cliff, paint it green and turn it into a barrier. What if ... what about this, modern rhyme "Prosperity of Love" You said that you were a flower floating in the world, and my tired wanderer was crazy enough to want to pick you off. The green trees and red flowers outside the window tried to spread their wings all summer. When will you pick a prosperous and lonely person who wants to take off all his red clothes? I stopped at the age of 20 last summer. A myth that you have been praising my genius has encouraged me to move to other cities for years as a fake audience. Ignoring your concern, Fa will strike up a conversation with strangers while exploring the road, but he can't get rid of the punishment you bring himself. It turns out that love has to work hard to realize how great it is. At that time, I had drifted to the end of the cloud and recalled my angry words. I am so sad that I can't extricate myself. A rainbow fell on the vast sea after a rain, and I made a wish to love her even if I was silent all my life. You are the flower that never fades in my soul world.