Modern Poetry in June (2)

The moon on a midsummer night in May

I think I just took a shower from the Milky Way.

shy

Hide behind a thin cloud

stimulate

star

Very vague

earth

Wear brightly colored clothes

Blurred affection

Snuggle together

In the moonlight

sleep in peace

The evening breeze is fragrant.

firefly

Secret date

The birds

(of boys and girls) having a close childhood friendship.

have only

Frog with no amorous feelings

noisy

Chapter VI Summer in the Wind Summer in the Wind

The faint feelings are far away.

The grass is high and the nightingale is in the air.

Shui bi Tian LAN

Red dragonfly jumps oblique pulse.

Willow is drunk as spring smoke.

Soft smoke curled up.

A short childhood

A gurgling stream.

It's mom's affectionate call.

A windy summer

Fuzzy memory is far away.

The fragrance of gardenia

Get wet in the misty and rainy yard.

We lay quietly on the lawn.

Look at the Milky Way and its drooping stars.

Shy moonlight

Whispering about the attachment of teenagers

A windy summer

Summer is full of the smell of grass.

Cicadas are singing lonely songs in the treetops.

The plane leaves fall on the campus full of sadness.

On the singing method of parallel songs

Changting wai

Gudaobian

Flute lighting transmission

A distant teenager in memory

A windy summer

Summer full of sadness

Scattered on the yellow title page hurts other poems.

Clear as water in the eyes

Your back is accompanied by the afterglow of the sunset

Travel together

Half a residual lamp

While I was sleeping.

Flowing flute

Complain like a complaint.

It's my endless yearning for you.

A windy summer

Never look back in summer

How many beautiful days

I rushed over.

Just today

Unforgettable memory

A windy summer

Summer suddenly turned around.

Cool moonlight

Touch my soft heart

Just want tonight

On Wings of Song

Look at you again.

Ich will dich

Relive the past

The midsummer shower lasted for many days.

Strong sunlight

Still can't stop you.

After a loud roar.

You hit Tianmen.

Straight to the embrace of the earth.

How many birds?

I don't know their names.

Hovering on the roof for a while.

Then I jumped into the clouds.

Just like I had guests at home when I was a child.

I can't restrain my joy.

After a while, I ran to the village entrance.

Later, I will go to my parents' arms to be spoiled.

That middle-aged man

Extend your arms to the sky.

Shouting and running

You can hit his broad chest at will.

Like Gorky's petrel

Embrace the hope of coming to me.

A rainy season

It moistens everything silently and gently.

This is the poet's famous sentence praising his ancestors.

I guess

You are so desperate for people.

Even if it's just a hasty trip.

The world will also build an immortal memorial arch for you.

I wrote this poem for you in August and June of the third year.

Wake up and listen to the sunshine and distant mountains outside.

Insects are singing and disappearing. Cuckoo flies

Wake up service

Who is that

The prayer of water and the piety of waterfowl playing in the water

I came in quietly.

That moment

In the sleeping village, let's go.

People still live on the edge of dreams and awakening.

The cow and the old dog are still there.

The breeze on the summit is still there.

Those villages and wheat fields are still there.

You and I stood up.

On a foggy morning

I go out on all foggy mornings in my memory.

The starlight is weak and the cordyceps is mixed.

to cross a boundary

What about the ferry

Wake up in the village, understand?

It is always rice that surges, wave after wave.

Lush is always dew, drop by drop.

The bushes along the road are full of cicadas.

The sun is also very high in summer, September and June.

What is fresh is always morning, day after day.

Soaked is always a dream, one by one.

People who come in are always thinking

Then, I heard the sound of flowers beside me.

So I saw the forest in the distance.

Can I still sing at this time?

Who is lying at the table with running water?

It's just that the rough style is written for you.

The cicada is still chirping.

The cuckoo has flown away.

So-called piety

The so-called youth

I will tell you silently.

The gardenia in front of the table is still faint and clear.

Not withered

No yellow.

What seems distant but clear?

What will be the end of the world after planting the awn?

Summer again.

Who was burned by his tears and whose heart beat?

Over villages, rivers and distant mountains

I saw a child.

great

listen attentively to

The summer of death is quietly and secretly telling me the truth of happiness.

therefore

After the gardenia blooms, the summer solstice is gradually quiet.

How to speak is always me.

I will sing in the water and among the birds,

At that time, I will write for you,

And I will be surprised at my persistence.

Listen, I wrote this for you.

In the third year, I sat at noon in summer.

The Woods under my feet are rugged in my singing.

Lush green leaves will never be lonely.

June is a distant time.

Whether it's now

Or the future?

Samsara is on the verge of persistence and forgetting.

Be entangled in

perhaps

Every step of the journey

Approaching the next meeting.

but

Sail upward

preocular

Will gradually fade into the past

The world is so big.

Which direction will you chase?

Wish you the way you want to go.

Sunny

Flowers bloom all the way