Modern classical poetry describing land

Poetry on the Land 1: I love this land.

Zhu ziqing

If I were a bird,

I should also sing with a hoarse throat:

This land hit by the storm,

This river of sadness and anger will surge forever,

This endless wind,

And the gentle dawn from the forest ...

And then I died,

Even feathers rot in the ground.

Why do I often cry?

Because I love this land deeply. ...

Poetry 2 on land: land

This strange land,

Reminds me of a dream I've lost for years.

Just like repeating an old dream here,

I am once again in that lush world.

All the thick blue veins are embedded in the soil,

Tall and upright stone pillars stand between your fingers,

A clear spring moistens this land.

. . . . . .

What a desirable place,

You are infected by that unique charm.

The admirers around.

With their sweat and spirit,

Ancient music, the customs here,

Your enthusiasm is simple and clear.

Is the source of their efforts.

Poem 3 on the Land: The Land of China

Liu Zhanqiu

Do you know this magical land?

Buried with golden acacia

Strings of azaleas are colorful.

The goddess' sigh comes from the torrent of the Three Gorges.

From permafrost to green coconut groves in winter.

The rosy waves caressed the beach.

Do you know this song?

Mysterious land

Yellow skin and black hair are beautiful.

A sincere character is like a lake in the breeze.

Stubborn and brave, like the Yangtze River.

There is joy under the frosted grapes.

Hard core opened the opportunity for revival.

Poetry 4 on the earth: the wheat field in May

lake

Brothers all over the world

A hug in the wheat field

East, South, North and West

In the wheat field. Four brothers, good brothers.

Review the past

Recite their own poems.

A hug in the wheat field

Sometimes I sit alone.

Dream of brothers in the wheat field in May.

I saw pebbles in my hometown rolling all over the river beach.

There is always a curved sky at dusk.

Villages that fill the earth with sadness.

Sometimes I sit alone in the wheat field and recite China's poems for my brothers.

No eyes, no lips

Poetry five on the earth: Spring returns to the earth

The sun shines on both sides of Huaihe River.

The wind blows the wheat fields as far as the eye can see.

Green is rippling under your feet.

White clouds are walking slowly in the blue sky.

Having a home is no longer a dream.

It's not just the Tang Dynasty that prospered.

Plums with red leaves turn cities and villages white.

I stand under the magnolia tree.

Look at the prosperity of a tree

I know purity

It's not just the appearance of spring.

More in the center of spring

The song of insects echoes in the ear.

The frog dived into the melting pond.

The black swallow flew over the willow tree with soft mud in its mouth.

The weeping willows sprout like smoke.

North bank of Huaihe River

The two-story building is connected into ribbons.

South bank of Huaihe River

The new tall building blocks the sun.

Wind opens people's hearts.

The sun lit up people's chests.

Raise your eyes

Shungeng Pavilion has melted the ice and snow.

Shouwangshanxia

The family is rich.

How vibrant the world is.

Life will die.

Spirit is immortal.

The warm and soft wind intoxicated me.

A woebegone man.

Spring is coming

If you are happy

I will be happy.

Poetry 6 on the land: the earth where I run

It would be nice to be a wisp of wind and a cloud.

Spring without footprints, sky without footprints.

I am an iris with wings.

The direction of the agitator river

Gently chasing, like summer, like love.

All the colors are very clear.

Every minute, every second is in my breath.

To whole grains, to frogs after a rainstorm.

Hanging obliquely at the end of my eyes

At this moment, my running earth

Covered with layers of gold

Mature fragrance and fullness, gradually

Next to the root of life, I no longer.

Myself, I am a song, I am a piano sound.

I am the joy of running, the colorful clouds flying.

My running earth

Please give me a parking place.

Even a red apple seat.

Even dandelion footprints.

As long as you can tolerate me, including my wandering.

My poem, my sleep, my prayer.

Poetry on the Earth VII: The Earth

When a blackbird flies over the black night sky.

When the tired morning sprouts in my heart

Twilight runs through your veins.

Pale vilen was naked.

Turbid air soaks your body.

I see your loneliness and sadness.

The withered wheat straw fluttered in the wind.

You lie flat.

Rain or shine.

Let the beloved ears of wheat go their separate ways

Such a deep silence.

earth

What can I use to wash away your filth?

What can make you smile?

I am the blade of grass on your skin.

I am your lost lamb

I am an insect repellent, and you feed your withered body with it.

I drink your blood and eat your flesh.

But I have no choice but to hang you in my heart.

Earth, how can I stop your worries?

With the warmth of the sun?

With the golden color of boundless wheat fields?

Poetry 8 on the Land: Slugs and Crickets

Author: john keats

Poetry of the earth never dies;

When all the birds were dazzled by the hot sun,

Hidden in the shady forest,

There is a sound.

Floating on the hedge around the newly cut grass.

That's the music of Guoguo! Poems praising the land, poems praising the land.

It hastily indulges in the luxury of midsummer,

It never felt its happiness disappear,

Once you get tired of singing,

They perched comfortably on the pleasant grass.

Poetry of the earth,

Never stop:

On a lonely winter night,

When the frost condenses into silence, it bounces off the fireplace.

Cricket's song,

In the case of rising temperature,

Sleepy,

People feel the sound.

Like a grasshopper chirping on a grassy mountain.

Land Poetry 9: The Land of China

Do you know this magical land?

Buried with golden acacia

Strings of azaleas are colorful.

The goddess' sigh comes from the torrent of the Three Gorges.

From permafrost to green coconut groves in winter.

The rosy waves caressed the beach.

Do you know this magical land?

Yellow skin and black hair are beautiful.

A sincere character is like a lake in the breeze.

Stubborn and brave, like the Yangtze River.

There is joy under the frosted grapes.

Hard core opened the opportunity for revival.