There is an urgent need for a poem to recite! Urgent ... three minutes to help God.

After carrying the last Tibetan antelope, the sun sets in Wang Jingjing, and the sunset glow is gently sprinkled on the land of Hoh Xil. The quiet and barren land seems to be a little more affectionate. I just stood in the cold wind, My shadow is far away in .................................................................................................................................................................. Just a few years ago, our Tibetan antelopes were a multi-ethnic group, with 200,000. At that time, several of our tribes galloped on the deserted grassland, filled with smoke and dust, and the scene was spectacular. My wife will say goodbye to us every birth season and go to the north in droves. When thousands of young Tibetan antelopes were born at the same time, our tribe added gardeners to the whole earth. We used to be extremely proud-I was a Tibetan antelope. We live in the distant Hoh Xil, where the climate is bad and the land is barren, but we have amazing endurance. Any place with abundant aquatic plants is not attractive to us. We often lie leisurely in the snow or play under fierce hail. At that time, there were only us in Hoh Xil, which was undoubtedly a paradise. How wonderful the once dreamlike world is. However, a gunshot penetrated the dawn of Hoh Xil. When I was running on the plateau, countless companions wanted to compete with him. This is a game that we often play. However, this time we only guessed the beginning right, but we couldn't guess the ending. The dark muzzle quietly raised. From that moment on, our genocide began, and Hoh Xil was quietly destroyed by gunfire. Ah, I clearly remember that just that summer, in the place where I gave birth, in that ... some of them were even skinned alive, and I began to regret being a Tibetan antelope. Actually, we are not beautiful at all. We just have a priceless fur, but for this fur, I don't know how many brothers and sisters have been killed in recent years, and the bodies have been skinned, and the pink bodies are dripping with blood. Now they are no longer beautiful girls in Coco West, but have become horrible cemeteries. Hundreds of thousands of Tibetan antelopes live here all the year round and fall behind the parade. At this moment, I heard intensive gunfire in the distance. I closed my eyes in despair. I leaned down and licked my wife. Her eyes are still so big and charming, but full of fear. I kissed my little daughter again, and her eyes were only surprised and heroic. Daughter, you are too young. Dad knows you're dead. He doesn't know what happened. In fact, at dad's age, what will happen to their loved ones when they are killed? What will happen to them? At this moment, there was a hissing sound behind me. I turned around slowly and saw a black muzzle. In the tragic sunset, on my companion, I actually showed a bleak smile. Ignorant humans, how long will you be ignorant? You ruined us. In fact, you ruined yourself. You often run on the grassland. ........................................................................................................................................................'s Rain Lane Author: Dai Wangshu walks in a long, lonely rain lane with an oil-paper umbrella. 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 wanders in this lonely rain lane, holding an oil-paper umbrella, silently sad like me, and sad and disappointed like me. She silently approached, approached and took a breath. She floated like a dream, dreamlike, sad and confused. Like a lilac field in a dream, this girl floats by me; She walked away silently, far away, towards the crumbling fence and through the rainy lane. In the elegy of rain, her color faded, her fragrance dispersed, and even her sighing eyes were lilac-like melancholy. Holding an oil-paper umbrella, I wandered alone in a long, lonely rain lane, hoping to float past a girl with a lilac knot. Which poem is Wei Lei reciting?