A peach tree
I went to the seaside to pick up pebbles and saw a small peach tree standing on the desolate beach. In the eyes of several educated youths, she is a symbol of youth and hope; Seeing her, I am full of enthusiasm and hope for my life and future. However, her unfortunate fate aroused our infinite sympathy and caused ominous confusion and confusion about the world. ...
Under the gray sky, the red flag fluttered.
The Qingyi River is surging and flowing quietly.
A beautiful peach tree is graceful.
On the bare beach, among a pile of rocks.
Exquisite flowers are still in bud.
Smile gently and the color will shine.
Green leaf buds are lined with pink petals.
The abundance of spring makes the stone crazy.
Suddenly, an urchin came from a distance.
Holding her waist and shaking desperately.
She trembled sadly, and the branches and leaves were scattered all over the floor.
Petals are raining and eyes are crying. ...
Ah! This quiet peach tree.
Shining with the brilliance of life.
But the destruction of unfortunate fate
Let the beautiful youth pass away silently.
Prove to a wild peach tree
I proved to a wild peach tree.
In winter, I came across a wild peach tree.
Wild peach trees are also covered with a pile of crow droppings.
Like a simple and kind girl.
Its heart is undefended.
The crow stepped on the branch and arrived first.
Spring. Don't mention the spring of crows.
Its rancid performance shamed the sunshine.
The laughter of aphids makes sunflowers dry up ahead of time.
Van Gogh's brush is just a bunch of puzzling symbols.
The land is poisoned, the wild peach tree is speechless, and its veil is weak and beautiful.
There is no sharp arrow available, shoot it down.
The crow's spell. But it believes that winter will pass.
The unfortunate spider web will be broken.
The brilliance it contains will penetrate the skin and erupt in the field of vision in spring.
Its healthy and lovely children will mature quietly in summer.
But in winter, no one wants to prove it.
The sincerity of a wild peach tree. So I raised my right hand.
Standing on the top of the mountain where the wind is hunting.
When I was ten years old
Qingshan after the rain is like a man of few words.
He wears a white hat on his head, and his strength
Enough to make all living things feel secure.
When I was ten years old, Myrica rubra and I stood on him.
Listen to the wind, rain, birds and springs.
My thoughts entered the fragrance of weeds.
Wet and vivid
At the age of ten, I didn't know poetry, but in my heart.
The elements of poetry are surging, just like the pollen on the wings of a butterfly.
Flying all the way, shaking the shy or laughing heads of many wild flowers.
At this time, the temple rang three times at dusk.
The most beautiful girl in the tulou was carried away by love.
When I was ten years old, the earth was rainy. village
Like a child in black.
There is a cluster of towering trees on his left hand side.