Prose poetry is a modern style developed to meet the psychological characteristics of people in modern society, such as sensitivity, thoughtfulness, complexity and meticulousness.
Examples are as follows:
one
How to let you meet me
In my best moment, for this.
I prayed in front of the Buddha for 500 years.
Begging him to let us have a dusty relationship.
Then the Buddha turned me into a tree.
Follow the path you may take.
In the blooming flowers, I wait in the sun.
Every flower carries my previous hopes.
Please listen carefully when you come near.
The trembling leaves are my passion for waiting,
When you walked under the tree, you didn't notice me.
On the ground behind you
Friend, that's not a petal.
It is my withered heart
Murong's Prose Poems
A predestined relationship or bond
If people can be reincarnated, if there is reincarnation in the world.
So my love, what was our past life like?
If you used to be a woman picking lotus in Jiangnan,
I must be the one you missed under your wrist.
If you have ever been an urchin who plays truant.
I must be a brand-new marble that fell out of your bag.
In the grass by the roadside
Watching you leave unconsciously.
If you were once a monk with a side wall
I must be the incense in front of the temple.
Burning has been silent with you for a while.
Therefore, when we meet in this life, we always feel a little unfinished.
But it's too vague to distinguish it carefully.
I can't tell you one by one.
Meet sb. leave
Not all dreams can come true in time.
Not everything is told to you in time.
Guilt and regret
Always plant it deeply in your heart after parting.
Although they say there are all kinds of things in the world.
Eventually it will be empty.
I didn't mean to miss it.
But I've been doing this all the time
Miss yesterday's flowers.
Missed the gift again
We are going to repeat the same parting today.
I will be a stranger for the rest of my life.
Walk a thousand miles.
In the twilight
Bow deeply to you
Please take care of me.
Although they say there are all kinds of things in the world.
It will be empty in the end.
Flowering tree
How to let you meet me
In my most beautiful moment
for this reason
I prayed in front of the Buddha for 500 years.
Pray for Buddha to let us have a dusty relationship.
Buddha made me a tree.
Follow the path you may take.
Under?the?sun
Carefully full of flowers.
Every flower carries my previous hopes.
When you get close,
Listen carefully
Trembling leaves
This is the passion I am waiting for.
When you walked under the tree, you didn't notice me.
On the ground behind you
My friend,
Not falling petals
But my withered heart.
Common jasmine orange
The stream is eager to flow to the ocean.
The tide is eager to return to land.
In front of the hedge with green trees and white flowers
I waved goodbye so easily.
After 20 years of changes,
Our souls come back every night.
When the breeze blows.
It became a garden full of fragrance.
confiscate
Please sing a song for me.
In that forgotten ancient language
Please call gently with a beautiful vibrato.
Great rivers and mountains in my heart
That is a sight that only exists outside the Great Wall.
Who said the tone of Saiqu was too sad?
If you don't want to hear it,
That's because ... ...
There is no desire for you in the song.
We always have to sing and sing.
Like a grassland shining with golden light thousands of miles away
It's like sand whistling through the desert.
Like the Yinshan Mountain on the bank of the Yellow River.
Heroes ride strong.
Go home with honor.
Youth without complaining
At a young age
If you love someone,
Please be gentle with her.
No matter how long you have been in love.
If you can always be gentle with each other, then
All the moments will be flawless beauty.
If you have to part.
I also want to say goodbye.
And be grateful.
Thank her for giving you a souvenir.
You won't know until you grow up.
At the moment when I suddenly turned around.
Youth without resentment has no regrets.
Like a quiet late moon on the mountain.
homesickness
The song of my hometown is a flute in Qingyuan.
It always rings with the moon at night.
The face of my hometown is a vague disappointment.
Like waves in the fog
After parting
Homesickness is a tree without rings.
Never grow old.