Someone once asked me why I like plants so much. Why do you like painting flowers?
In fact, I like not only that flower, but all the memories that accompany that flower at the same time; What I like may not even be the nature in front of me, but the mood that nature evokes in my heart.
I heard a friend say a touching sentence: "Friendship is like a flower, it is best to be faint. The weaker the fragrance, the more attached it is and the longer it lasts. "
Really, on this long road of life, how many times have faint flowers hit you? How many friends have I had who used to smile and make me feel fragrant? Keep their smiling faces and their faint love in my heart forever.
2. Find some poems praising "friendship", which were not written by the ancients. It is a modern friendship like Murong Mudan 1. I cherish friendship. It's a work of art that I accidentally picked up from the waves of time, hanging on the life post car that galloped by. Sometimes it almost goes with the wind, but it is not lost. I was repeatedly explored by my emotional hand under the accidental encounter, and the longer it took, the more valuable it became, because it echoed my lost youth and gave me a cordial aftertaste of the past; Carefully sculpted by letters and a sense of * * *, it is placed by the old window at the end of the year, which not only embellishes loneliness, but also reflects the world outside the window like a mirror, making the rough world look so soft.
(Excerpt) Sending a friend on an autumn night-Shu Ting was moved by your talent for the first time when she said goodbye in the misty spring rain tonight. It's already late autumn wind whimpering among the mulberry branches. You always compare yourself to an old pine tree that can't be cured for a lifetime after being struck by lightning. Unlike the shore willow floating with the flowers, it changes its appearance every spring. I often hope that I can spread the road in the boundless sky like Hong Fei who travels from south to north, instead of learning from that narcissistic parrot who cares about shadows. Is our own misfortune, but also our * * *. The same difficulty because we think too much about life, our hearts are always so heavy. When will the old pile sprout, shake off the dead branches and get a lush tree? When does the spring of the earth often soothe the sleepy soul? There's no need to worry any more. 1975. 1 1 Give it to a friend-Wang Guozhen will stand up and not fall down. What's more, this is a commemoration that we are going to travel around the world and fall down. Memorial is a warm flower. Find out what the sun, moon and stars are trekking. What have we walked hand in hand? You said that when you see the sea, you will laugh comfortably. Yes, yes, our laughter can hold up clouds, but I don't know if it will be a song of friendship with tears in our eyes when we want to laugh. Xue's friendship seems to be an invisible match between friends and exotic skin colors. Friendship is the ardent pursuit and beautiful expectation of human spiritual civilization. Friendship is the beautiful melody and dance of human colorful life. Friendship is the sublimation of human beings. Contribute to charity and love, friendship flies over Yuan Ye and mountains and rivers like pigeons, friendship is like a newspaper in Chun Yan, and friendship is like a magpie with autumn fruits and sweetness. On the journey of struggle, the friendship rainbow inlaid in the sky reflects dazzling brilliance and adds upward strength and innovation. In the trekking situation, the bridge of friendship is like a ship carrying food and charcoal crossing the moat and reaching the other side of longing. In the harbor of life, the spirit of friendship contains the intention of conveying sincere comfort and joy, but it is also an inevitable accident in life to make friends and cultivate horizons together. It is also a sail and friend on the ship of life. It is also a clear spring between life and friends. You are full of energy. He is rich in experience and friendship. The flower of the heart of friendship is intoxicated. Parting is a broken kite. Parting is the second hand to move forward. Perhaps, parting is the setting sun and Taiwan Province Province that has not yet returned. Whether we meet again or not, there is always an invisible line holding our hearts tightly.
Friendship in foreign poetry-Rukowski fell from the top of the mountain, the oak tree was struck by lightning and lay in the dust, but the ivy clung to it and refused to part ... Ah, you, this is friendship! (1805) (translated by Wei Huangnv) is selected from Selected Poems of Russia, Hunan People's Publishing House (1988). Friendship-Passing this is the waiting moment. The lamp is loose on the table that keeps falling, turning the window into an infinite space at night. There is no nameless existence around me here (translated by Dong Jiping) zhukovsky.
3. What are Xi Murong's good poems? The essay "Poems by Xi Murong"-1 How can you meet me at my most beautiful moment? To this end, I begged him for 500 years, let us form a dust Buddha, so I turned into a tree and grew in the sun along the way you must go. All the flowers are the hope of my previous life. Please listen carefully when you come near. Trembling leaves are my passion for waiting, but when you finally ignore them, they are my friends who fall behind you. A zero heart only makes me miss you as soon as I turn around-Xi Murong's "A Flowering Tree" 2 When you are young, if you fall in love with someone, please be gentle with him.
No matter how long or short you have been in love, if you can always be gentle with each other, then all the moments will be flawless and beautiful. If you have to part, say goodbye and thank him for giving you a memory.
When you grow up, you will know that when you look back suddenly, there will be no regrets in youth without resentment, such as the quiet full moon on the mountain. -Xi Murong's "Youth Without Complaints" 3 You painted sadness in the corner of my eye, I lingered on my forehead, you added a few strands of white hair with my thoughts, I let the years carve my gaunt hands, and then we passed by on the street corner, and we were indifferent. Dear friends, please don't misjudge the youthful appearance. We are makeup artists ourselves-Xi Murong's "Encounter" 4 I like to be vilen in the twilight. At this time, all the colors are quiet, and the darkness has not yet come. Finally, I also want to let my life fade away in the lush green passion. By this time, all the stories have been formed, and the ending has not yet arrived. I smiled and looked back for my heart again-Twilight by Xi Murong. If five people can be reincarnated in the world, what is our love in previous lives? If you are a woman picking lotus in Jiangnan, I am the flower you missed under your wrist. If you are an urchin who plays truant, I am a brand-new marble that falls out of your schoolbag. I watched you walk away unconsciously in the grass by the roadside. If you are a monk with a side wall, I will be a pillar burning incense in front of the temple and accompany you for a period of silence. Therefore, when we meet in this life, we always feel that there are some unfinished fronts, but we can't distinguish them carefully. We can't tell them to you-Xi Murong's alternative frontier, Qilixiang, maturity, ancient acacia, foreign land, looking back, mistakes, lotus heart.
I don't know where to stay, but I can tell him all kinds of unwarranted troubles during these ten or twenty years. The forest is clean and fresh, the mountains are tight-lipped, and no one will tell me about the coming flowers.
On April 25th, on the long road, I walked towards a hill. At first, it seemed like an ordinary encounter. If there is not a long-lost hope in my heart, I may have missed the faint information flow that once told each other in the wind and clouds.
The April wind blew, and the mountains were calm and smiled at me. In his arms, different shades of grass and branches of the same color danced with the wind.
I gradually approached the mountains, just hoping to know his mood at the moment. There was a vague whisper in the forest. At the end of April, life is brewing an aromatic change, a disturbance that cannot be completely predicted.
On May 8, after the deep call, the whole world was shrouded in the shadow of snow-white flowers. The sky is clear, the mountains stretch, and clusters of white flowers are like flowing rivers.
It seems that all life in the world should come by appointment. At this moment, in the sunshine as transparent as honey, they cheered at the same time and rotated at the same time, turning into countless floating points. Such an afternoon full of white flowers always feels deja vu, and always feels that it is an aggregation that can be put into any kind of time and space.
It can be put into the Book of Songs, Chu Ci, classicism and post-impressionism-there should be such an afternoon and such an early summer in any beautiful record of mankind. There is always such an early summer, there are always sunny days, and white flowers are in full bloom at the top of the tree.
There is always a woman in red walking through the green field, and the breeze takes up her skirt and hair tips. There are fresh tea, flowers and thin sorrel in the field. Snow-white flower shadows and winding paths appear repeatedly in poems and paintings, and all the light and shadow and all the joys and sorrows are clear dreams of predecessors. I don't know which autumn is the flower that blooms for me today. Is the love I have been insisting on all my life a story written in a book as early as 1000 years ago? The mountain finally moved in May, holding me in my arms with infinite tenderness. The moment I longed for finally came, only to find that in his arms, in the depths of the jungle, tung flowers were blooming like brocade.
May 1 1 Is it true that life can only be scattered and withered after a moment of convergence? At the moment of turning around, tung flowers kept falling. The knot tightly tied in my heart slowly loosened, and the mountain was beside me. According to the tide and moonlight, I looked down and thanked him softly for every beautiful day and quiet night.
From then on, I only remember that under the shadow of snow-white flowers, there is a road that won't let you come to an end, and there is all the happiness in this world that comes late but insists on walking. On may 15, tung flowers all fell, but there was still a soft sound of flowers falling in the forest.
Back to the long road, I don't know who to prove this sadness to. Surrounded by infinite silence and indifference, every tree retreated to its original corner.
I looked back at Yiyi and looked at him. The peak has passed. If I keep walking, it should be a smooth road, no attachments, right? The mountains were silent and refused to answer me again. In the twilight, they seem to forget how naive and pitiful the mountain was when it was in bloom. I had to go back and wait for the time to pass, hoping to forget all this like him.
However, why can I still hear the sound of tung flowers falling in the deserted forest in the dark night? Why? Flowers are gone, and there is still the sound of flowers falling in my heart. After all the flowers have fallen, there is still the sound of flowers falling in my heart, one by one, gently falling on the barren mountain.
-Early summer of' 84.
4. Friendship poem: Farewell to Du Fu for Shu.
Across the wall of Sanqin, across a layer of fog, across a river.
We said goodbye sadly, and our two officials went in opposite directions.
After all, the world is just a small place.
Why are you wandering at the fork in the road? The child is holding a towel.
Li Bai: seeing a friend off
Green mountains are located on the north side of the city wall, and the sparkling water surrounds the east of the city.
Here we say goodbye to each other, and you, like losing your father, are floating in the wind and traveling far away.
Floating clouds are like wanderers, like wandering, and the sunset slowly goes down the mountain, which seems to be nostalgic.
We waved goodbye and my horse neighed again and again.
The second envoy sent Yuan, the king of Tang Dynasty in Anxi, Wei Weicheng, raining and dusting, and the guest house was green and willow-colored. Sincerely advise friends to drink a glass of wine, and it is difficult to meet their loved ones when they go out to Yang Guan in the west. Send Guo Sicang and Wang Changling to stay in Huaishui, ride the spring tide and ride the master's bright moon. Send Zhao Zongyang Jiong and Zhao Lian Bi Cheng to see the world. Sent to the five tombs of Qin people. This sword is worth 1000 dollars. Break up and give all my hearts a gift. Make a poor contribution to Joe assistant minister Han Ting.
Xi Murong's good poem is a flowering tree.
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
ferry
Let me shake your hand.
Then gently pull out my hand.
Know that missing takes root from now on.
Clouds and mountains during the day are solemn and gentle.
Let me shake your hand.
Then gently pull out my hand.
Time stopped from now on.
Tears flow into a river in my heart.
It is such a helpless stare.
I can't find a flower to send to the ferry.
Pin your blessing on your lapel.
What about tomorrow
Tomorrow is another world.
If I only meet you once in my next life, just for all the sweetness and sadness in that moment in hundreds of millions of light years, then let everything that should happen appear in an instant. I bow down and thank all the planets for helping me meet you and leave you, finish a poem written by God, and then grow old-Choice.
All the endings have been written, all the tears have started, but suddenly I forget how it started. In that ancient summer that is gone forever, no matter how I pursue young you, your smiling face is very shallow, and it gradually fades after sunset. Fate opened the yellow title page and bound it badly with tears. I have read and reread, but I have to admit that youth is a too hasty book-although they say the world. I don't want to miss it, but I've been doing it. I will miss yesterday's flowers, and I will miss now-goodbye.
6. Beautiful modern poems about friendship, I long for you to walk with me. You and I dream together, and heaven remains our neighbourhood.
Although there is no hand in hand, the hearts are already connected. Thinking is super but pure, cleaning the face of life.
Pursue spiritual enrichment and realize the original intention of teenagers. I despise vulgarity and ugliness, and hope that the starry sky will cross the canyon of life and spread out broadly and calmly.
Poems with the same lyrics, Li Sao, romantic feelings arise spontaneously. The water is hazy and the sky is lingering.
Hanfu Huazhang's swan song is the peak of Sima Shiji. Jian 'an has a clear rhyme of the East and a trace of Jieshi.
The water in the canal is surging, and the water in the Yellow River is tilting. Dajiangdong goes quickly, and the canoe travels through time and space.
Dou E in Yuanqu has resentment, and peony in bitterness has pavilion. Both Ming and Qing dynasties have their own Huazhang culture.
Drawing on the milk of a thousand years, you and I are physically and mentally strong. I like farming in Taoyuan most, and my poems, books, piano and songs are harmonious.
You and I sucked its dew today and suddenly felt vulgar. The release of poetry and prose is really beautiful, and thousands of feelings return to the Sect.