Short poems of nature

1. "Early Spring" Shu Ting's friend is the spring that dispels sadness. Dry your tears and smile at the sun. Although the flood of flowers has not washed away the shackles of winter, the intoxicating fragrance is filling the plains and mountains. Although there are no waterfalls splashing, thousands of silver beads are scattered in the misty morning light and rolling on the avenue at dusk, but wait. Once the dark clouds thunder, you will run away in a hurry. Is the most beautiful dream. Maybe it will be chilly to listen to Wu Laofeng. The wind is still whistling and trembling in the valley, as if wailing together, but there are already a few small azaleas that warm the world, and even the clouds are gone. Let's just say that spring is beautiful and rich, because it has passed the last chill.

2. "Voice in the Country" Xu Zhimo's boat slowly floats under the shade of weeping willows-a cool breeze in early autumn blows the velvet on the water and blows the voices in the countryside on both sides. I am resting alone by the window of the boat, watching the waves of a river and listening to the sounds from far and near-once again I have a tacit understanding with my childhood! This is the call of Crispy, the work on the farm is varied, and the dog crows by the bamboo fence: but this is a kind of meaningless sadness and sorrow! White clouds are flying in the blue sky: I want to put my annoying age, and I want to entrust my annoying love to the boundless emptiness-disappearance; Reply to my simple and beautiful childlike innocence: like a spoonful of cold spring in the valley, like a bald milk magpie in the breeze, like a grass flower in Chi Pan, natural and vivid. 3. For nature, countless rhythms float lightly in the sky in bright colors, and the passage of time is sometimes like a song. When you think of the happy time here, you seem to have left your memory in a distant place. I don't miss you, but I am keen on your joy. When nature is full of vitality, my love is beyond words. Like yesterday's sunshine, leaving me in summer is a wonderful story. When the rainy season is like spring breeze, I will greet you with a forgotten and locked heart. I said goodbye to you for a long time, and that long gaze was enough to make your tears shine like colorful ancient roads. There is only one voice echoing. Endless green is connected with Yan Yan's mile, and it will never stop. It is graceful in green and elegant in red. It is cold, severe and lonely to cultivate it. It is the pride of the strugglers. Your warm world belongs to brave men, naive girls and winter and wisdom belong to hearty streams, jubilant birds and scorching sun and olive trees with coastal pictographs belong to me and me. The jungle I love is green, and there are butterflies dancing like children. You lie quietly by the river in the dark night, and I wander like a dream. I look for a long path to bend. When someone walks in the field at dawn in front of the bright spring, when the wind blows over and over again to rub and support the silent wilderness, what kind of arms do you use to caress this warmth and elegance, and I walk out of the years and run along the rails to the sunny hillside.