English poetry

For whom the bell tolls

No one is an island,

Oneself as a whole;

Everyone is a part of this continent,

A major part;

If a clod is washed away by the sea,

The less Europe there is,

If a cape,

And if your friends or your own estate:

Anyone who dies is my loss,

Because I am closely related to human beings,

Therefore,

Ask not for whom the bell tolls;

It rings for you.

Angels are always there.

Surrounded by angels,

They are there to guide your way,

If weakness overcomes you,

If you ask, they will give you strength.

They are your protectors.

When life seems unbearable,

Although you sometimes feel lonely,

Angels ... there they are.

Their faces may be hidden.

You may not hear their voices,

But they're always with you,

Through your laughter or tears.

They'll go with you,

They will guide you forward,

They will comfort you, hug you,

Protect you day and night.

They will hold your hand tightly,

They will never let go,

They will gently lead you forward,

Take every step slowly.

Because even when you're asleep,

They keep a close eye on you;

They are right beside you.

Everything you do.

When life is overwhelmed,

Your spirit is exhausted,

Knowing that they will be by your side,

Promotion and motivation.

When you feel pain and loneliness,

You can't see the hope ahead,

You know, they will nourish you,

Your spirit will be nourished.

If one day in my life,

Your heart is broken,

Hearing this sentence, "I'm here, my child,"

Know that your angel has spoken.

Because even in the darkest hour,

When all hope is gone,

They will give you the strength to live,

And eager to continue.

If you believe in heaven,

Should disappear,

They will refresh you,

Help you find your own way.

Even if you were full of doubts,

About your life,

Know where they are. Give it to you

Everything they can give.

Because you see, the father sent them,

Because you are too important to him,

He gave them to you, my friend,

And your life, they will be moved.

They will always be here,

They will never leave your side;

With their strength and guidance,

You can always be trusted.

Take comfort from their guidance,

Draw strength from above,

Knowing their sweet existence,

It is a precious gift of God's love.

A flowering tree Xi Murong

How can you meet me?

In my most beautiful moment

for

I have been in front of Buddha for 500 years.

The world's hatred of Buddhism has brought us to an end.

So I turned the Buddha into a tree.

You have to cross the street for a longer time.

Under?the?sun

Beware of blooming flowers.

I look forward to one past after another.

As you approach,

Please listen.

Trembling leaves

I'm waiting for warmth

When you finally ignore

In a drop of water behind you

My friend,

Is not the fallen petals

That's my heart.

I think Petofi-

I want to rap, as long as my wife

It's a small fish

Now I am surfing and swimming happily.

I think Huang Lin is, as long as my wife.

It's a bird

I make a nest call in the dense forest.

I want to be a ruin, as long as my wife.

Youth is ivy.

I climbed up near the desolate place.

I would like to be a cottage, as long as my wife.

It's a lovely flame

In the stove, I walked slowly and happily.

I am willing to break the gray flag, as long as my wife.

Coral is like a sunset.

My pale face is brilliant.

Caused by Pushkin Chaadayev

Love, hope, peace and glory

Can't bully us and cheat for a long time,

Is the joy of youth,

It has died like a dream, like the morning glow;

But we also have a burning desire inside us.

Under the cruel weight system,

We work with anxiety.

Listen to the call of the motherland.

We expect to be tortured,

Waiting for sacred free time,

As a young lover,

Sincerely wait for an appointment.

Now we are also in the burning fire of freedom,

Now we are dedicated to the memory of the dead without heart,

My friends, we want souls.

Beautiful passion, show our motherland!

Comrade, I believe: a charming star of happiness.

It is necessary to increase light injection,

Russia woke up from sleep,

On the ruins of tyranny and dictatorship,

We will write the name of this word!

Motherland, my dear motherland, Shu Ting.

I'm a river on your old waterwheel,

For centuries, spinning was tired of this song;

I'm looking at the number of cigarettes you smoke and miner's lamps,

According to your history of queuing in the tunnel to explore the cochlea;

I am an upland rice; It is the lack of maintenance of roads;

The beach is a mud barge.

Nanshengshen

Pull it into your shoulder;

Ah, the motherland

I'm poor,

I am sad.

I have been you for generations.

Hope is painful,

"flying" between sleeves

Luo Wei has spent thousands of years on the ground;

Ah, the motherland

I was thinking about the new you,

Get rid of myths from the internet;

I am your snow, the germ of Gu Lian;

I am your tears with a swirl of laughter;

I am the newly painted white starting line;

It's the crimson dawn,

It is endless;

Ah, the motherland

I'm one billionth of you,

You are the sum of 9.6 million square meters;

You have a scar on your chest,

Feeding a

I lost, I think, I am boiling;

From then on, my flesh and blood

acquire

Your wealth, your honor, your freedom;

-the motherland,

My dear mother!

Baiqiangliang

Mom,

I see a white wall.

Good morning, I went shopping to buy crayons.

Worker saw

It takes a lot of effort,

In long murals.

He smiled at me,

He told me

Tell all the children:

This won't appear in graffiti on the wall.

Mom,

I see a white wall.

It's too dirty,

There are many rude characters.

Mom, you cried,

For those who abuse reason,

Father died,

Gone forever.

I also want to drink milk,

Even with white walls,

Has always been a flash in my dream,

It also stands on the horizon,

During the day, there is a charming light flashing.

I like white walls.

So you don't keep doodling on the wall,

I don't know,

I like my mother and mild weather.

Did you hear that?

Mom,

I see a white wall.

Facing the Taiwan Strait, Spring Lake

From tomorrow on, be a happy person.

Horses, firewood and traveling around the world

From tomorrow on, care about food and vegetables.

I have a house facing the sea, which is full of spring flowers.

Starting from tomorrow, communicate with every family.

I told them happiness.

It was the lightning of happiness that told me.

I'll tell everyone

Give each mountain and river a warm name.

Stranger, I bless you.

You want a bright future.

Do you want to be a married lover?

In this world, you want to be happy

I only face the sea, and spring blossoms.

In memory of maple trees in Han Niu.

I want to write a few pages of poetry, your final paper.

A few preserved green leaves.

-From the diary

Hubinshan

The top of a huge maple tree

Be knocked down ......

On an autumn morning

Several villages

This has nothing to do with a mountain

Be heard, be felt

The sound of maple leaves falling

Doors, windows and tiles of every household

Every tree, every grass

Every wild flower

Bird tree, take bees for example.

The boat stopped at the lake.

Chan chan is shaking ... to. ...

Are you sad because of it?

On this day

The whole village

This is on a mountain.

Floating and rich fragrance

fragrance

Fall on the human soul

Even than the cold autumn rain.

unexpected

maple

Dark and rough skin

Create a bitter taste

However, its inner life

Store so much perfume.

fragrance

Is sad

Maple stands upright.

Lying on the grass and thorns

So huge, so green

It seems to stand the test of time.

And majestic and beautiful.

Fell down three days later.

The branches and leaves are still in the breeze.

Su Su repeatedly shook his head.

There are bright dewdrops hanging on its leaves.

Like hundreds of millions of tearful eyes

Say goodbye to mother nature

Oh, White Crane Lake

Oh, the distance to the eagles

Maple trees are coming here, too

maple

Walked into the Woods

ring

Pour out a circle

Tears coagulate

tears

It also creates a fragrance.

These are not tears.

This is the life of maple.

Not cell death

The village side of the mountain

Reduce the number of ...

Lower his head like a skull.

Cut down trees

maple

Cut down trees

Connect with the land of life

Prayer hornwort

I pray for windy summer and little rain in winter;

I am looking for red flowers that are purple;

I pray that love will not be laughed at,

Some people support autumn;

I pray for compassion-

When people are sad

At least give some comfort.

Instead of raising cold eyebrows;

I pray as a source of knowledge.

Keep up-to-date every day,

This is not a ban, but also a ban;

I pray from the bottom of my heart that their songs have a good idea.

Who doesn't make models

Provide high and low tones for all people;

I pray

One day, no one

I like this kind of prayer.

I went back to the martial law force.

Please, I went back to the door without a lock.

Please don't go back to my room.

Please wake me up, I am the only rooster.

Even if you are asked to eat the bones back to me.

Please, I'll go back to the hillside pastoral in the Mid-Levels.

Even if you have been recorded on tape.

You also asked Yang to give me back my flute.

Please return mine.

The relationship between me and my brothers and sisters

Even if it's only half a year, I'm back.

Please repay my love for space.

Even if you have been polluted.

Please return to me in my dream.

Please, I returned to the earth as a whole.

Even if you have been divided into

1000 domestic

1 100 million villages

I also invite you back!

Fort Solomon, Kerr Kane

Excellent

Is a great man who has felt overwhelmed.

Sitting here crying for the war. Who?

Its laughter has made more than 70 thousand autumn souls enter the sleeping area.

The sun was cold boiled by the cold wave of the moon and the stars, and was also cold by the artillery fire of the Pacific Ocean.

Smith and Williams don't reach for the glorious fireworks festival and take it home.

Your name is colder than the sea water in winter

Xuanzang saved your God from death.

The bloodbath left a great memorial.

The war shouted, why didn't it laugh?

70,000 people crossed into the surrounding forest park and lined up to enter Lily Village.

Fixed in the wind in the rain, motionless.

Looking at the pale tourists in Manila Bay in silence.

Smith, Williams was killed in a disorder on the mirror. I just want to know.

Where did your children often go to play when they were young?

It contains tapes and color slides owned by Spring.

Kerr Keienburg's bird calls the leaves not afraid to move.

So all the voices here are silent because of bleeding.

Space-time insulation time clock escape

There is less eternal silence here than Ryan's gloomy world.

There is no beautiful garden with sound for the living room scenic spot of the deceased.

God came to appreciate the city, and cars have been there.

Smith and Williams didn't you didn't go.

If you calm down, you can't see the face of the years.

The stars at night are in the dark day.

You turn a blind eye to sleep, regardless of season.

Wake up the world.

Michael Kennedy has been sleeping in the extremely melancholy pasture in Grimborg.

Death will be mounted on the marble of St. Hans with the goods

Beyond the stars and stripes, look to immortality, look to the clouds.

Fort Baker and Mackenzie are a land-based Pacific stele autotrophic forest.

A sad day, crying and great relief are associated with death on a black background.

70,000 people were burning in a white trembling with anxiety.

Smith, Williams, when the sunset exceeds the flaming wild mango forest.

God will also leave Larkin in a hurry singing.

You can't go there.

The Pacific Ocean is not a gloomy submarine door.

A flowering tree Xi Murong

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.

I do.-petofi.

I would like to be a torrent, as long as my lover.

This is a small fish.

Swim around happily in my waves.

I would like to be a deserted forest, as long as my lover.

This is a bird.

Nest in my dense forest.

I would like to be in ruins, as long as my lover.

This is the ivy of youth.

Climb up intimately along my desolate forehead.

I would like to be a cabin, as long as my lover.

This is a lovely flame

Blinking happily in my stove.

I would like to be a gray flag, as long as my lover.

This is a coral sunset.

There was a light on my pale face.

To Cha Daieff Pushkin

Love, hope, quiet glory

You cann't lie to us for long,

Is the joy of youth,

It also disappeared like a dream, like a fog;

But our hearts are still full of longing,

Under the pressure of the brutal regime,

We are anxious.

Listen to the call of the motherland.

We endure the torture of expectation,

Waiting for the sacred free time,

Like young lovers.

Waiting for that sincere date.

Now the fire of freedom is still burning in our hearts,

Now our dedication to honor is not dead,

My friend, we should put our hearts and minds.

Beautiful passion, all presented to our Zubang!

Believe it, comrade: a charming and happy star.

Will rise and shine,

Russia wants to wake up from sleep,

On the ruins of tyranny,

Will write our names!

Motherland, my dear motherland Shu Ting.

I am an old waterwheel worn by your river,

Tired songs that have been spun for hundreds of years;

I am a miner's lamp blackened on your forehead,

Do what you do in the tunnel of history;

I am a withered ear of rice; It is a roadbed that has been in disrepair for a long time;

This is a barge on the beach.

Draw the rope deep

Pull into your shoulder;

-the motherland!

I'm poor,

I am sad.

I am your ancestor.

Painful hope,

It's a flying sleeve.

Flowers that never fall to the ground for thousands of years;

-the motherland!

I'm your new idea,

Just broke free from the spider web of myth;

I am your snow quilt, the germ of ancient lotus;

I am your laughing vortex with tears hanging;

I am the newly painted white starting line;

This is the crimson dawn,

It is sprayed;

-the motherland!

I'm one billionth of you,

Is the sum of your 9.6 million square meters;

With your scarred breasts,

raise

Lost me, considerate me, boiling me;

And then from my flesh and blood

get

Your richness, your glory, your freedom;

-the motherland,

My dear motherland!

Snow-white wall beams

Mom,

I see snow-white walls.

In the morning, I went shopping to buy crayons.

Saw a worker

It takes a lot of effort,

Paint a long fence

He turned and smiled at me,

He called me.

Tell all the children:

Don't scribble on this wall in the future.

Mom,

I see snow-white walls.

It used to be dirty here,

Write a lot of rude words.

Mom, you cried, too,

Because of those insults,

Dad left,

Gone forever.

Whiter than the milk I drink,

White walls,

Has been flashing in my dreams,

It still stands on the horizon,

Shining charming light during the day.

I like white walls.

Never scribble on this wall,

I won't,

As gentle as mother's sunny sky,

Did you hear that?

Mom,

I see snow-white walls.

Facing the sea, Haizi blooms in spring.

From tomorrow on, I want to be a happy person;

Comb hair, chop wood and travel around the world.

From tomorrow on, I will care about food and vegetables.

Living in a house facing the sea, spring is blooming.

From tomorrow on, write to everyone I love.

Tell them my happiness,

What did the lightning of happiness tell me,

I will distribute it to each of them.

Give every river and mountain a warm name.

Stranger, I will also wish you happiness.

I wish you a bright future!

May you lovers get married!

May you be happy on earth.

I only want to face the sea and spring blossoms.

Mourn for a maple tree, Han Niu.

I want to write a few pages of poetry and put you at the end.

Keep a few green leaves

-From the diary

On the hill by the lake

The tallest maple tree

fall ...

On an autumn morning

Several villages

And this Shan Ye.

I heard it, and I felt it.

The sound of maple trees falling

Jiajiade doors, windows and roofing tiles

Every tree, every grass

Every wild flower

Birds in the tree, bees in the flowers

A boat moored by the lake

tremble with fear ...

Is it because of sadness?

This day

The whole village

And this Shan Ye.

There is a thick fragrance floating in.

faint scent

Fall on people's hearts

It's colder than autumn rain.

accidental

A maple tree

The epidermis is gray and rough.

With a bitter taste.

But in its life,

But it stores so much fragrance.

sweet

Sad

Maple is upright.

Lying on the grass and thorns

So big, so green.

It looks better than standing.

And magnificent and beautiful.

On the third day after logging,

The branches and leaves are still in the breeze.

Shake in a rustling way

There are still bright dewdrops hanging on the leaves.

Like a billion pairs of tearful eyes

Say goodbye to nature

Oh, the white crane by the lake

Oh, the eagle in the distance

Still flying towards the maple tree

maple

Break into wide boards

Ring by ring.

Flow out in a circle

Solidified tears

teardrop

It is also fragrant.

Not tears, right?

This is the life of the maple tree.

There are no dead blood cells yet

A hill near the village

Shrink a lot

As if bowed his head.

fall

A maple tree

fall

Life connected with the earth

Pray for Cai Qijiao.

I pray that there will be wind in summer and little rain in winter;

I want red and purple flowers;

I pray that love will not be laughed at,

Fall and be supported;

I prayed for sympathy—

When people are sad

At least give some comfort.

Instead of coldly Leng Mei;

I pray that knowledge will be the source.

It's pouring in every day,

Not this prohibition, that prohibition;

I pray that this song comes from everyone's chest.

Nobody wants to be a model.

Set high and low levels for all tones;

I pray

One day, no one will

Pray like me.

Give me back my strictness

Please give me back that unlocked door.

Even if there is no room, please give it back to me.

Please give me back the rooster that woke me up in the morning.

Please give me back my bones, even if you have eaten them.

Please give me back the pastoral on the hillside.

Even if you record it on tape.

Please give me back my melodious flute, too.

Please give it back to me.

My relationship with my brothers and sisters

Even if it is only half a year, please give it back to me.

Please give me back the space of love.

Even if it has been polluted by you.

Please give my dream back to me.

Please give me back the whole earth.

Even if you divide it into

A thousand countries

100 million villages

Please give it back to me, too

Fort McKinley Roman

Beyond greatness

It is human's ignorance of greatness.

Who sat here crying in the war?

Its laughter once plunged 70,000 souls into a deeper abyss than sleep.

The sun is cold, the stars and the moon are cold, and the waves in the Pacific Ocean are boiled by gunfire.

Smith Williams Fireworks Festival is too glorious to take you home.

Your name shipped back to your hometown is colder than the sea water in winter.

Where is the hand of your savior in the noise of death?

Blood washed away the great memorial.

The war is crying. Why doesn't it laugh?

70,000 cruciferous flowers form a garden, and the village is surrounded by lilies.

Not moving in the wind, not moving in the rain.

Silence shows the paleness of Manila Bay to the tourists' cameras.

Smith Williams is a mirror image of the death barrier. I just want to know

Where did your eyes play when you were a child?

Where are the tapes and color slides of spring?

The birds in Fort McKinley don't crow, and the leaves dare not move.

Every sound will make the silence here bleed.

Space is insulated from space. Time escaped from the clock.

There is less talk here than the gloomy horizon, and it is always silent.

Beautiful silent room, the garden of the dead, the scenic spot of the living.

God has come to admire, and the car and the city have come.

Smith Williams, you can't come or leave.

Still like taking off the surface of the pendulum, you can't see the face of the years clearly.

In the day and night, in the night when the stars disappear.

Your blind eyes fall asleep regardless of season.

When I woke up, I found an incomprehensible world.

Sleeping soundly, Fort McKinley's particularly melancholy green grass.

Death is crowded with shrines on the screaming marble.

Show the complete star-spangled banner to immortality and clouds.

Fort McKinley is a land-based Pacific Ocean, and its waves are shaped into a forest of steles.

A huge relief hangs on the darkest background of death, with tears flowing.

Seventy thousand stories were burned in the white trembling.

Smith Williams, when the sunset burns red, the wild mango grove is at a loss.

God will leave in a hurry and the stars will fall.

You're not going anywhere.

There is no door at the bottom of the gloomy Pacific Ocean.