Who has poems or essays about daffodils?

anonymous

I wander alone like a floating cloud.

Drift across deep valleys and mountains

Suddenly, I saw a piece.

Countless golden daffodils

Growing by the lake and under the tree.

Dance in the breeze.

Constantly like shining stars

Shining in the Milky Way.

Infinite extension

On the shore of the bay;

At first glance, I saw thousands of daffodils

Shake their little heads and dance happily.

The sea surged beside them.

But they are more pleasant than shining waves: poets must be genuinely happy.

In such a pleasant companion!

I watched it again and again-but I seldom thought of it.

What a precious treasure this scene has brought me;

In a state of emptiness or contemplation

I often lie on my back on the sofa.

They go through my heart.

That is the supreme happiness in my loneliness;

Therefore, my heart is full of joy.

Enjoy dancing with daffodils.

Narcissus story

Xianbei county

Another winter has come.

This is the season of daffodils.

As in previous years, I happily planted this year's daffodils, which belong to me.

When she was half immersed in clear water like me, she began her annual joy.

I like daffodils. Love her chubby flower heads, love her lush branches and leaves that grow leisurely, and love her flowers that come as scheduled and don't follow the crowd.

Her hasty eroticism is always afraid of missing the season of her life. You can almost hear her ceaseless footsteps and feel the irresistible enthusiasm of her youth. When she quickly grows into a complete flower branch and blooms, the daffodils at that time are like girls in spring, young and handsome, graceful and fragrant, refreshing. ...

Narcissus seems more spiritual this year. She stood there quietly, competing to grow and open up. Walk around during the day and listen to my morning bell and dusk drum. The night is darkened with shame, Luo Zhi, and I am slowly coming out of my lost dream. . .

I stared at the six-petal elves for a long time, silently pouring out my love, my feelings, my yearning, my regretless pursuit …

Did she really see through my feelings now? When I lie prone on the table, when I stand in front of the window. When I was tired, sitting in a rocking chair, when I was numb and slipped on the pillow ... Oh, you finally opened my heart for the first time in my lonely ring at the age of 43.

Who is singing outside the window "Are you leaving as soon as spring is over? Sincere flowers are blooming, but you want to fly away with migratory birds …"? !

Don't! I call from the bottom of my heart: "Please stay, stay! Stay with my lover and bloom at every intersection you pass. ...

I love narcissus (prose) Pan Bailing.

During the Spring Festival, the fairy Ling Bo blooms in a beautiful year. She brings people joy and spring. After the New Year, she died in a hurry, and there was nothing to do. Who can keep her? I love daffodils, their elegance, their fragrance, their subtlety and their fragrance. Whenever the cold wind blows off every blade outside the window, at the end of that bleak year, the daffodils on the windowsill begin to draw out slender and slightly curved green leaves, which are as elegant and free as a girl's long skirt. She seems to be comforting people: winter has come, can spring be far behind? Gradually, at the top of the green stem in the middle of the green skirt, thin stems were pulled out, and small pale green buds grew on them, some five, some seven, and some even grew a dozen ... Buds were ready to bloom, and I hung my head half shyly, as if waiting for sunshine and hope. Slowly I don't know when, suddenly overnight, ah! Perhaps in the early morning of the first day of New Year's Day, she opened a transparent white petal, and the round pale yellow stamens in the flower core smiled at you like a smiling face. You see, such Ling Boxian Tingting is standing on the white stone of Qingshui, with long green leaves, dancing like a group of fairies, which is really a beautiful scene of dancing in the east wind of snow and ice. She danced lightly, emitting elegant fragrance. When you enjoy it, it seems that she is humming a beautiful Schumann serenade to you, telling you her joy and slight sadness. I wish she could stay with me like this all the time, but with the arrival of the end of the Spring Festival, I watched her wither and finally quietly leave ... Alas, a trace of melancholy rose in my heart, as if she had taken away the beautiful things in my heart. But how can we stop her? Her life is so short, but her heart is so beautiful. All she needs is a piece of clear water, but there are many scattered waters on the earth. In the coldest winter, it brings warmth and spring to people, leaving an unforgettable fragrance. In fact, the meaning of life is not the length of life, but whether to leave something for people. Isn't it? Thank you, fairy Lin Bo!

Narcissus (prose)

The warmest flower in the warmest season is the lotus holding the torch.

On the coolest day, the coolest flower is the daffodil that stretches the snowflake.

Only a piece of shallow ice water and a few broken white stones. All birds have withered leaves.

Choose multicolored primary colors, and all the colors in the world start with snow; I chose snow-white time and space to express my fragrance and warmth; Select Achnatherum splendens and tough and elastic strains.

Just one of a hundred flowers.

But just because it is one of the hundred flowers, it will not be similar to the other ninety-nine flowers. There are no similar rights and obligations. So calm, so warm.

Look at the lotus that blooms like a torch in the warmest season.