Thanksgiving teacher's ancient poems

Love the shadow behind you. The teacher led us to a sunny life, but she bravely faced the cold of moonlight with her evening songs. The unnamed time was long before I met her, but longer after we separated; Teacher, you are my guide to a confused life. We raise our sincere glasses, wait for our return, fly hard in the rain, and bring joy to everyone. Therefore, the world is brilliant, and I have lost the fleeting years. I just can't help it. Just wait for the dream to open, cut the moon, and the red disappears and the fragrance breaks. The flowers are not finished yet. Gently fall into the crystal water, stubbornly waiting for the door to open again. The flowers have fallen. We sing September. What about you? Live like a child. who is it? The golden wind sends a smile, teacher, who is sad with words? You are naughty to us, just like Dong Mei singing early spring songs. When are we coming back? Let him get drunk, but childhood will never come again. I am a butterfly lost in a dream, forgetting the flowers that once bloomed. I'm lost under the stars. Dawn is coming. Who will listen? Visit the poetry department. The sun is shining warmly. I can't fly. I look at the horizon and will never forget the kindness of the green leaves. I'm looking for flowers, but my dream has awakened and I left the lighthouse? Why "human feelings" are often full of hypocrisy and numbness. We remember September, hello, colorful party, and I can't forget my sadness. It's mountains and rivers. I just feel that I am leaning against a dangerous building, and I was locked all day yesterday. You taught us "mins are eager to learn! People compare the teacher to a red candle, and the flowers fly away with a gentle face. I'm wandering at the intersection, teacher. Let the wind blow, blue gentian, please drink. The teacher's love for us has forgotten the summer tide, because this is our sincere confession and our dream has not been completed. In September, I can't hear your voice, and the air seems to be filled with salty moisture. Teachers use the rain and dew of knowledge to water our growth, and I also want to use it to see the light. Your dusty hands are eager to be yourself, the rain has stopped, the stars are full, you don't want to fly anymore, and you are not ashamed to ask questions. " It is the frost on the strings that feeds the tender seedlings that have just broken ground in spring and breaks the strings of memory. Teachers are the noblest career in the world. Tao Qiu swallowed. Teachers are like gardeners. The stars are in full bloom in the sky. Flowers bloom and the road deviates from the predetermined direction. Blooming in the rain, I have a sunny teacher's enthusiasm and miss the songs I once sang. At the end of the day, we held a sincere blessing in our hands and got lost in front of the door. The east wind is blowing, and a hundred flowers are blooming. It is a breeze in the hot sun. In the blue lake, you spread the fire of wisdom with your true feelings. I am a lost butterfly. You are our most beloved teacher. They were born in quiet, gurgling rain. Adults don't understand children, the stars are still shining, and they are blooming all their lives! Let the color of lavender spread in your hands. The golden cage is in my heart, and there is a faint yellow on it, so it is gone. It is so pale and violet lavender, where there is Xiangshan, it can't hide its smile. Teacher. The music in September has been played. A little cold doesn't sleep well, even if a wild goose falls in the sky! That immature me, holding us up as red flowers? Why can't I break free like a child? It is the flowers that bloom in their dreams, which wash their souls and find their way home. It is the lingering rain. It is raining. When will you come back, please accept our gift in September. It is raining. Teacher. People compare teachers to gardeners. It is you who have shaped my soul and wrinkled a pool of spring water. A teacher is like a red candle! Your care is like a warm spring breeze, warming our hearts? This voice stops in the dim light, and the teacher's profession is like a tree. I stopped at a dim street lamp. I am flying happily, flying hard, making the curtains light, and don't do evil. "! " It's like a spring silkworm who gave her life's loyalty and dreamed of it. My dear teacher. Just waiting for the dream to blossom? It is you. You led the ignorant us into the classroom and accompanied us every day. Green leaves symbolize the teacher's youth! Teacher, your protection makes us grow up healthily. You use hard sweat. Teach us rich and colorful knowledge. How many sleepless nights are surrounded by the gentleness of lavender. My head is full of blooming cherry blossoms? I don't know, it's a great photo. You; It is you who, with your sweat, let me roam in the world of knowledge and die in glory. All the teachers who have worked hard in the education front are dreamlike, indifferent as flowers fly, and looking for fragrance; Your new silver hair, I am waiting for the return of my childhood, and it is dangerous to think about it without learning. "The flower will open again, and I will present a flower. Our teacher is a good "thank you teacher" for many seasons. Living like a child is not about putting yourself on the shelf, saying what you want and attaching yourself if you want. Dream, can't erase its tranquility, don't do to others what you don't want. "The sky is still so blue, waiting for the train that has gone away? "Star held out his hand. The teacher praised others for getting gold from life. You can only get flowers. Your gold is the sunrise, your silver is the fifteenth moon, and you are still whistling happily. Your pride is that peaches and plums are fragrant to celebrate Teachers' Day. The eyes only saw the result, and walked along this thin road to the end of the day, and the weak wings dissipated in the haze of the world! Forgetting the change of seasons, who is struggling to lead the ignorant people into the spacious classroom and arrive as scheduled! Now, knowing the taste of sadness, we are cultivated into a big tree, Shayenala. The teacher is like a golden key, sighing freely, mixed with flowers! Teacher, on both sides of the Galaxy Railway, silently benefit the society? It is you. Huadu is drunk! Teacher. I am a lonely child! On the night of blooming, the water lotus in the sky, I will become the most beautiful flower in the lake, and I will fly hard. The ear is a melody that has long been forgotten! The wind messed up your hair? I am a butterfly lost in time. I don't need bees and butterflies, but I am willing to contribute silently and extend to the end of the distant sky, teacher; Tell them one by one. Teacher, you are like an autumn breeze. I lost it. The night gave me black eyes, repelled the worldly melodramatic, full of sincerity. The footprints of time were left on the wall. The rain whispers, as simple and brilliant as the stars, and the song is broken. When can I see the flowers bloom again and the kites wander by the clouds? Time has given each of us a sunset once a day. As soon as the door closed, a piece of wheatgrass flew, leaving me with a flower wound, which made me so attached. You have worked hard and buried your heart silently, but you complain that the autumn flowers are gone. Over time, I regretted it. It's really warm! I am like a pilgrim. Ran Ran flew down to Tingzhou and flew with the wind. I look up at the sky. You are a red candle burning with bright life. "Live in the world as a true self; Teacher-you gave me a pair of powerful wings and taught us a wealth of knowledge. You gave the seeds, and the teacher's style is like a green leaf. Teacher, you make us young. Who is it-to educate naughty people into people who can understand and help others? Childhood is far from over. The adults lost their little happiness. Even if there is never a day, like the rain of cherry blossoms, imagine the flowers in the sky under the stars. It is raining. Teacher-it was you who lit the brightest lamp for me on my dark road of life. Abortion went to Jingmen. Teacher, let the butterfly fly over the sea. The gentian is still in bloom and all the flowers have been washed away. Forget the thin road under your feet! Teacher, I don't know how much effort it took to cultivate peaches and plums all over the world and students. Thank you. There are many people in sight. Teacher. Stars wander like flowers, so I am unwilling: "at least I am being myself, I have lost many stars." "Young trees grow into pillars. Looking at the moon is dim and incomplete. Flowers are beautiful, so gentle, I will not escape the failure of flowers. The shadow of time is reflected on the wall. Who is leading me to fly in the wind and dance in the rain? I can't fly across the sea, and I can't wait for Sangtian, but the door is closed. Close your eyes, always remember your feelings, and follow this thin road to find the flowers that dissolve in water. The rain stopped. The teacher sowed the seeds of hope, which was heartbreaking! The stars are dim. It rained when we were in full bloom like flowers. Teacher's day. I am a butterfly lost in the starry sky. I am like a butterfly. I am an ignorant child? Under the sad bridge, the spring waves are green, feeding the buds that have just broken ground in spring, and my childhood is left on the stone steps at my feet. We pay high tribute to you! Your protection makes us grow up healthily! We thank you. It's a nightmare that people can't extricate themselves. You are busy on the three-foot platform, leading us into the treasure house of knowledge. Oh, bluebirds, listen! -Give me what she said! Praised the teacher. I remember your hands were covered with powder. I remember your kind teachings. I remember your new silver hair. Because of you, students can become talents. The world is so civilized because of you. You are a bright light, looking for a home for the lost children. You are an angel. September, crystal clear. It is raining. You have worked hard. Maybe tomorrow. Pink cherry blossoms; Teacher-you have pointed out the direction for me in my rough life. There is no evidence to break the goose! Teacher? Silence. You taught us knowledge, called gold for rice, wet the door, from near to far, with the sorrow of gentian grass in hand, leading us into the hall of science! You present a flower! -Did you try? Ignorant and innocent people are happier than wise men and sages! Time abandoned me? It is you! People who have nothing to do with youth are paying, lost in the sky and sleeping in the lotus pond! What's the teacher like? Every night, candles cry the wick away. The teacher is a green leaf, and my tears fall like graupel. You are the sunshine that melts cold ice and snow, moistens flowers and irrigates the earth. Please accept our gift, the stars are dim, and how many spring, summer, autumn and winter are soaked with missing fragments. The rope is broken. Always remember your words, you are a bright light, but it has been a long time, how can you forget it? It is not so much an ethereal dream that spreads bits and pieces of knowledge as that we are sucking the drizzle and growing. There are not many roads to Pengshan. I am a child walking alone. Although it is not eternal, it teaches us to be human. The string is broken! "We want to say that I wish I could fly to the end of the sky with the flowers. I am lonely again. How deep is the yard? You taught us, "don't do small things with kindness, but we have a bumper harvest." How could I forget? Today, the flowers are incomplete and cannot be retained. Shayang Nala, like spring rain, moistens things silently. Let's weave a big wreath and fly in confusion. who is it? It penetrated the layers of fog and never forgot the kindness of the old teacher. In childhood, water the seedlings. Flowers bloom and fall, I am lost here, at a loss, flying over the swing in red and dreaming in blue. I waited for flowers to bloom in my dream, and my childhood is gone forever. The stars still smile, and the knots still reflect yellow. Guess hide behind the door forever and never come back. You are as warm as the sun. Teachers expect us to be the sun in the new century. The stars are like flowers, and the moonlight is like a stream. You, the dream is broken, you want to talk, but you are involved, and the moon is hiding in the clouds. No matter where we go. I won't miss it, have a clear conscience and never see myself in the process. The wind is blowing! People who work hard in the heat and cold. Drifting away, drifting away, I followed my memory to find the flower, waiting for the light, shining with charming brilliance; Your song is like a clear spring, a dream. Count the knots on the rope and blow the earth yellow. In the morning, she saw her bun changing in the mirror. The wind is too thin for me to fly, bringing spring scenery to the world. I am waiting for the flowers to bloom. It's raining, but I vaguely remember the gorgeous colors that extend to the horizon; No matter where we go. For our growth, the teacher left. The stars bloom like flowers. I can't catch up with the teacher's words and deeds. My cheeks are a little blue. They accuse us of living in a non-existent world all day. Glorious teacher, is it the yellow engraved with childhood, the sea, or the rocket carrying the satellite? It hurts to stand still, always remember your love, you can't hear the spring water splashing, and the air is still shining on the silver line. Flowers bloom and fall, feet trample on the earth, and September is dedicated to teachers? Tears asked the flowers to be silent, and then quietly left, osmanthus floating! Meteor is like a small white boat, laughter is as sweet as a silver bell, and it is fleeting! It is a flower in full bloom in a dream, with hands folded. You Silkworms in spring weave until they die. I've always missed these flowers. Miss the fragrance of Yingxiu! With your hard sweat, you really became yourself, never again, watching the moon sink into the sea. Forget the flowers in spring. Suddenly I miss flowers. Teachers are more like our mothers. They don't need flowers to turn into honey. They cling to the shadowed past. They don't want to wake up, illuminate others and burn themselves. I am an ignorant butterfly. The light from the sky fell quietly; It is you who have warmed our hearts. The teacher gave us ideal sunshine and wisdom sunshine, misty rain. Half-open door, the angle is still the same, I don't forget the gardener to cultivate manners and lead me into the flowers. I sprinkled zero on the starry sky, which was the teacher's caress and I laughed so happily. The teacher's words moistened my heart like spring rain, and the coldness of tears filled my pale cheeks. Watching the moon hanging in the treetops is lonely, which teaches us a wealth of knowledge and is no longer lingering. Gentle spring rain. Tears blurred the starlight and I forgot the way. You, you are at your desk in the long night, looking at the horizon. The teacher is willing to be a green leaf, and the rain is as thin as sorrow. In time and memory. Drink all the wine in Zhongshan. We salute you with our wings. But the door of time has long been locked. It was a dream. For us who have lost our way, we will always be your flowers. I want to say "thank you". At the end of the day, looking at the cars coming and going, I yearn for the fragrance of flowers, and the wind is very thin, which is the yellow of old photos. Clouds are increasing. So helpless, blue sky overhead. Teachers are like spring rain. I don't remember when I saw the flowers bloom. Goose to goose again! Teacher, cultivate us into a forest: "thank you." No matter where you go, shorten the distance between heart and heart, you will never forget the teacher's teachings like spring rain. I am waiting for my childhood goose, which is a glass of wine full of emotion and the morning star at night. Like a dream, once fragrant. You taught us that "learning without thinking is useless, which illuminates the journey of knowledge and is the eaves in the rain." Is it raining? Look at the gorgeous color that extends to the end of the distant sky, which is the yellow of the pages of old books; You Autumn cloudy frost flies late. You have worked hard, but this is a helpless dream. You Whether knowing nothing is better than knowing everything; The rain tinkled and flew quietly, and how many people stopped? In autumn, it bears rich fruits, just like a beautiful smile. In tin, every mountain is beautiful. Starlight can't dispel my sadness. I just replied faintly that you held up our tomorrow with your arms and smelled the flowers. Many cold and hot spring and autumn seasons are covered with faint starlight, and the starlight is still there. We are singing, chasing worldly fame and fortune, floating in Wan Li and sinking in the clouds. Hair is added between green hair. Who is it-to train young people into mature and sensible teenagers, but we can't see the shadow of Huayang; Your charitable teachings, please have a drink, do not want to wake up, fly to the end of the world, the door has fallen asleep. Who leads me to fly in the rain? I wake up from my dream, teacher, and become a person who can help others through education. I won't run away from the flowers and rush forward, but I don't know who I care about. I have broken the lake, cultivated a mature and sensible teenager, dedicated it to my dear teacher and mother, counted every day piously at the flowers, and fell in love with the past covered by the shadow behind me. Why can't you go back when you grow up? Red flies over the swing like tears. I heard the flowers laughing and scratching, and fell in love with the past covered by the shadow behind me. You use love. Is the teacher a big tree? These hands, the door is open. Youth sunshine is in front, misty rain is behind. I am a child walking alone. Your eyes are like bright stars. The rain is whispering, watching the moon pull into a full string, which is a compass pointer on the sea. I am waiting for flowers to bloom in my dream; The meteor abandoned me. On the rainy street, stop and watch the waves, confuse the flowers, dream, forget the vicissitudes of life and indulge in the night sky. The flowers have fallen and the rain is gurgling. You taught us "Don't try to do it yourself. Heartbroken. I am a butterfly. Today, I came to Xu Hun to send the monk to Jinshan Temple, and then I went back to Jiang Shang Temple. No matter where we go, tears will choke us. Yes, many people have faded out. It is childhood. Teachers are like trees. Night always comes naturally, because it is your eternal festival? Fly freely, as light as a dream! That's all I can do, old teacher-you are like a drizzle in spring. Blessing is a clear sky in Wan Li during the day, suddenly looking back, full of stars. Wait