Zheng Chouyu's poem "Mistake" I walked across the Yangtze River.
The appearance in the season is like the opening and falling of lotus flowers.
If the east wind does not come, catkins will not fly in March.
Your heart is like a little lonely city.
Like a bluestone street facing the night.
There is no sound, and the spring curtain in March has not been opened.
Your heart is a small closed window.
My hooves were a beautiful mistake.
I am not a returnee, I am a passer-by. ...
Yu Guangzhong's poem Homesickness was written when he was a child.
Homesickness is a small stamp.
I'm at this end
Mom is over there.
When I grow up
Homesickness is a narrow ticket.
I'm at this end
The bride is over there.
See you later, huh?
Homesickness is a low grave.
I am outside
Mom, ah, it's in there.
But now
Homesickness is a shallow strait.
I'm at this end
The mainland is over there
Bitan osmanthus pulp with sixteen broken green glasses.
Several relationships are hiding under umbrellas.
Mine. I didn't bring it.
My romance is downstream of the river.
If Bitan is more glass.
You can look at my sad silhouette.
If a grasshopper boat is more like a grasshopper.
My sadness will disappear.
Half past eight. The drawbridge is still awake.
Xia Zheng is very young.
The laughter of sophomore girls is dancing on the water.
Waiting for you, in the rain, there is a star hanging on the cornice of the science museum.
Aconitum usually hangs.
Swiss watch says it's seven o'clock, and suddenly you come.
Red-violet after the rain, Pian Pian, there you are.
Like a poem
You come from a love story.
From Jiang Baishi, rhymes, there you are.
Love's poem "Late Bell" is a path for tourists to go down the mountain.
pteridophyte
Along the white stone steps
Chew all the way down.
If it snows here,
Just to see
A frightened grey cicada
Put the lamp on the mountain.
one by one
light
Lin Leng's poem "The ship is not tied", nothing can stop me.
In addition to the purpose
Even if there are roses, shade and quiet harbor on the shore.
I'm not tied to the boat. Maybe one day.
Space travel makes me very tired.
On a fiery red night in May
I'm awake.
The sea also woke up.
People contacted me again.
I will quietly return from infinity to infinity, and then leave quietly.
Well, maybe one day.
I am the will, and I am the boat that is not tied.
Even without wisdom
No ropes and masts.