Why do I often cry? Because I love this land deeply ... "I love this land" was written in the early days of the Anti-Japanese War, 1938. Author: Ai Qing (contemporary) soil can be loose, hard, tangible and intangible. Its body is boundless, with stone as its bone and water as its blood. It builds hills and mountains under the invisible sky, lakes and oceans, breeds all living things, breeds all dreams on the earth and breeds all green homes. Supplementary answer: bare land. (1) Rock is exposed to wind and frost, and polished fragments are born in rapids. After the rain clears, you are exposed to the blue sky. (2) Mother is shy and dresses you up with weeds dotted with green leaves and red flowers. You often roll up your sleeves and expose yourself to the matchmaker. (3) Mother gave you little dowry, gold and silver jewelry. The greedy husband disdains to touch you and expose you to his face. (4) Your child is as yellow and black as you. You use muddy hands. My son envied the height of the rock. You once told him that it was his grandfather's grave. (6) Your daughter got married in the wind and rain. You told them not to be afraid to accompany the sea, and they were exposed to the China land in the morning glow. Liu Zhanqiu, do you know that this magical land is buried with golden acacia, a string of azaleas and colorful rapids? The sigh of the goddess comes from the Three Gorges in winter, from frozen soil to green. The rosy waves in the coconut grove caressed the beach. Do you know that this magical land is so beautiful with yellow skin and black hair? Its character is as tenacious and brave as the lake in the breeze, and it is like the joyful and hard core dancing under the grapes in first frost, the Yangtze River. Note: The Land of China is selected from Untitled Lyrics (Chongqing Publishing House, 1986). Haizi in the wheat field in May Haizi brothers all over the world want to embrace the four brothers in the wheat field. Good brothers look back and recite poems in the wheat field. Sometimes I sit alone in the wheat field in May and dream that my brothers see pebbles rolling all over the beach in my hometown. At dusk, the curved sky always fills the earth with sad villages. Sometimes I sit alone in the wheat field and recite China's poems for my brothers. I have no eyes or lips.
2. Who has modern poems about land? It is a land eager to be reclaimed for survival.
Look forward to time, this iron plow is out of date.
In my body.
Sow sunshine, lightning and power.
I survived the long and cold winter.
Spring when everything is revived, and summer when everything is full of vitality.
In the autumn when fruits should be abundant.
I collected a basket of tears and sadness by myself.
And confusion
I am a land eager to be reclaimed for survival.
I will choose to be in the silence of the night
In the roaring winter
Take those bitter fruits out of your body.
Touch and chew one by one.
I will still acquiesce.
Time plowed through my body with this plow.
Like a farmer.
Dreaming of a bumper harvest next year
Modern poems describing rural life knock on the door of night at dawn.
star
Began to tremble and glow
Early farmers
Enjoy the loneliness in the field.
The sound of hoeing
Awaken the fragrance of the earth.
Inclined trees, land
Bend a beautiful arc
Printed in the twinkling sky.
Only the farmer's undulating back
Changing angle
Country, road, wilderness and sky
Gradually clear up
Excerpt "Dawn in the Country" Author: Qixi Station
A few native chickens are leisurely foraging.
Several domestic dogs dozed lazily.
Several willows wrinkled their skin.
Wisps of smoke from the kitchen chimney got into the clouds.
The fireworks are gone.
The taste of the year has faded.
Young and strong men and women have disappeared.
Leaving only the old, the weak and the sick
This tired country
The days of lively reunion are very short.
The remnant winter is still raging.
Left-behind children stay in school glumly.
The sick old man struggled hard.
Too dry.
The ground is too dry.
Wheat seedlings turn green slowly.
How I look forward to the spring breeze and spring rain
Warm and moist this helpless village.
Excerpt from February Village by Huai River Willow
4. Poems about modern airplanes
Flourishing,
This big bird is too high in the sky.
Why can't you see feathers,
Can still soar.
Ants feed.
A powerful army of ants,
Send troops to Satzen.
I can only watch the bugs die,
In an instant, the body was gone.
cicada
After three or four years of hard work underground,
Tao becomes immortal once.
I'm afraid trouble will eventually come,
Cicada can't finish singing.
kite
Paper gentlemen are not happy if they don't eat,
Spring breeze sends you to the blue sky.
Intentionally or unintentionally,
The high wind blows the bridge by the water.
The dish rack was repaired,
Our factory is committed to improving efficiency.
Although the screen escapes,
The plate can't slide away.
5. Complete modern animal poems 1. Pigeonbeard is pale and the sky is high. What a late autumn weather! There is a flock of pigeons playing in the air. Look at them in twos and threes, circling back and forth, as if they were meaningful. Suddenly, they turned over and reflected the sunshine. Against the blue sky, they were white and beautiful! 2. Get up early in the morning and stand in the corner of someone else's house and cry speechless. People hate me and say I'm unlucky: no! I mumbled to please others! The cold wind has been tight for two days, and there are no branches to live in. Flying around all day, cold and hungry all day. I can't pick up my sheath and fly for others. Can't call a family on the bamboo pole, earn a Freddie Wong! 3. Silverfish in Shizhe Village Market, where Turkish-style women bathe, piled into soft white bed towels, charming little eyes coming from all directions. Whitebait, the first love girl, is about to confess. 4. The loneliness of the snake Feng Zhi is a snake without words. If you dream about it, don't be completely afraid! It is my faithful companion, with warm homesickness in my heart; It misses the thick grassland-the thick black silk on your head. It is like the shadow of a moon passing by you gently, and it takes away your dreams like a crimson flower. 5. South China Tiger Han Niu I saw a tiger in the small zoo in Guilin. I squeezed into the chattering crowd. I looked at the tiger in the cage through two bars for a long time, but I never saw its colorful face and fiery eyes. The tiger in the cage lay quietly in a corner, with its back to the timid and desperate audience. Some people threw stones at it, some people shouted at it sharply, some people tried to persuade it, but no one paid attention! The long, thick tail fluttered leisurely. Oh, tiger, tiger in cage, have you ever dreamed of the vast forest? Is the spirit of humiliation twitching? Or do you want to beat those poor and ridiculous audiences with your tail? Your strong legs spread out in all directions, and I see that every toe and paw of yours is broken and thick with blood! Were your toes and claws taken alive? Or because of grief, you crushed them with your same broken teeth (I heard that your teeth were sawed off with an old hacksaw) with boiling blood. I saw a bloody gully on the gray concrete wall in the iron cage, which was as dazzling as lightning. I finally understand. I left the zoo in shame and heard the roar of the earth. An unruly soul flew over my head and left. I saw eyes mottled like flames. With huge and broken toes and blood claws. June 6th 1973. The firefly moth is a dead candle beside the candle, and the cold light of blue mist who died in the wind will never be buried by rainy nights. I really should make a lighthouse of my own for you in the song, carrying the sun, clouds and wind with birds (Chen). Your wings are lighter because of this. When you dance lightly, the earth can't remember its burden. You took the spring of your soul through my lonely window, and at first it was a blue sky. From my tired shoulders, I unloaded a heavy burden: humiliation, hard labor and several prison winters. Cover everything completely and sing with your joyful song. With your singing and climbing your light wings, my life seems to turn into a cloud and fly carefree in the sky. 1April 26, 945, Panxi, Chongqing, 7. Jade bird Ruanrong began to pursue jade bird from a long time ago. Jade bird, where are you? The young man said: The bluebird is on Cupid's arrow cluster. Middle-aged people say: the bluebird is accompanied by the "horse gate". The old man said, don't forget, the bluebird has a pair of flying wings. 1950 Yan () We are still alive. Still flying in the boundless sky, the horizon has shrunk in the distance for a long time to tease us to live. Constantly chasing it feels that it is close at hand, but it is still so far away from the sky, or the sky that our ancestors flew over is vast and empty, like a constant reminder that we are still like the wings of our ancestors. The wind drum continues to fall into endless nightmares. The future is only between the black land and the blue sky, and there is no bottom. This is a horizon that teases us. We will die slowly in the chase, and death will be as cold as the sunset. We still have to fly, hanging in the middle of the endless horizon, lonely as a leaf in the wind, and Leng Yun looked at us coldly.
6. Write poems of desert Populus euphratica, ancient poems and modern poems, including who is the author 1, the song of Populus euphratica, and Lin Qingzexu.
Hutong products are everywhere in the tree nest, and the weather and cold are baking. Birds of a feather flock together, but don't burn them.
2. "Populus euphratica in the desert" Contemporary Xiong Dongao
The roots of youth are still stubborn and still extend to the ends of the earth. Lou Ji's all-round personality in the dark, Wan Li spirit of Sha Tuan.
What is the feeling of clouds rolling and clouds relaxing? The lonely moon and shadow are very close. There is no need to laugh at Song Jun's frequent selection of stoves in ice caves.
3, "Populus euphratica in the desert" by Judd
The wind and sand write down all my loneliness. I am alone in the desert, longing for the emergence of a mirage, even if it is an oasis.
Blood seeped into the gravel, and the long wind and sand exposed the bones for a long time. Waiting for the camel bell, my heart is shaking.
Horned antelopes in North Africa, rattlesnakes and wild donkeys in the desert. Is the Millennium Orchid in namib desert still there?
Do Madagascar have unicorn flowers 1500 years old?
There is also camel thorn Elaeagnus angustifolia, my partner Apocynum venetum, who is madly in love with the desert. Hope in the desert has run out.
Even the only cactus will have a harmonious and changeable posture, such as jasper in the yellow sand sea.
Desert, my home, beautiful home in the sunset, the ruins of the soul, no signs of life.
Broken stone pillars, desolate Vashuo, empty, miserable and desperate.
I have no rivers in the wind, no human beings, no affection, no communication.
Waiting for the wind to swallow, waiting for the baptism of acid rain, staring at the mysterious sunset in the ancient Taihang Mountain.
How can I interpret the eternal solitary eagle hovering? Without a stream, Populus euphratica is immortal for thousands of years.
Forgetting, deviation, indifference, indifference and happiness have all been blown away, and the world of desert and ruins is just Populus euphratica pointing to the blue sky.
7. Modern Poetry about Cattle: Cattle
Bailianchun
Put away the sails torn by the wind and the broken cables.
Stop in the hands of farmers, farmers' wives and blind mothers
And the unborn daughter are cautious.
Heal the cow's injury. Its mast is still straight.
Bones show snow and sail on stones.
A spring, a summer and an autumn.
The injury of the yellow cattle is more like the waves at the foot than last year.
Getting closer and closer to the sun and the gate of heaven, stop at
In winter, the warm hay of port farmers enriches the soil.
The river has been flowing eastward.
Cattle walk on their backs and eat hay.
Drinking muddy water in this desolate night
The wind in Yunnan-Guizhou Plateau is tearing violently.
Cattle know that on the Yunnan-Guizhou Plateau
The wind only tears on its back.
This is called the wind, and farmers are only in front of it.
When a boat is pulled, it is called a farmer.
cattle
Wen xiaocun
There is no gorgeous decoration.
The voice is not good.
Indifferent ambition
Indifferent ambition
Let the flower family bloom together in spring.
Let songbirds contend in the forest
Let the lion be the king of the wilderness
Let the monkeys perform in the zoo
I'm just guarding one side of the land
brick by brick
Work silently
Not a cow, but a herd of cows.
He Zhu Xiao
That day was like this.
First, a farmer brought a cow.
Let's take pictures.
Later, other farmers heard about it.
Take their cows out of the cowshed.
Pull it into the snow.
Let's take pictures.
The deputy county magistrate said that's enough.
Don't bring it.
Reporters are out of film.
But the farmers drove all the cows out.
They all want to put their cows.
take a picture
8. There is no less than 300 words of war in the modern poem "When will the world turn swords into plowshares".
Has gradually left us.
Powder smoke
Still full of the ruins of the past
peace
Mingming tentacle
But I just can't reach it.
I don't understand.
What stopped all this?
I just hope
one day
The world can turn swords into plows.
Machiavelli once said, "War starts when you like, but it won't end when you like." Like fire, it burns in the center, but it can spread everywhere and make the whole earth burn. Then when can we turn the sword into a plow?
I remember such a story. During World War II, many Jews were imprisoned in Nazi concentration camps, and an innocent and lively little girl was also imprisoned here with her mother. But a few days later, the girl's mother was taken away and never came back. Whenever the girl asks about it, people say to her, "I went to see your father and will be back soon." The girl believed it, but she didn't escape the massacre of Nazi soldiers. They will be buried alive. When the girl was about to be pushed into the pit, she said to the Nazi soldiers, "Uncle Hangman, would you please bury me a little shallower?" Otherwise, my mother came to me and I couldn't find it. "Angry cries rang out from the crowd! In the face of true feelings, war seems so despicable. What reason do we have to go to war? As Rabin said: "The voices of thousands of people can't compare with the pain of a mother who lost her son in the war. "Let the world turn swords into plows.
The 20th century is a century of many wars, and the only two world wars in human history took place in this century. The First World War lasted four years and three months, with a population of more than 654.38+0.5 billion and casualties of more than 30 million soldiers and civilians. World War II lasted for six years, affecting 2 billion people and killing more than 70 million soldiers and civilians. 1983, a Hungarian scientist published a statistical result: in the 37 years after World War II, more than 470 local wars broke out in the world, and the days without war were only 26 days. When will our world turn swords into plowshares?
Unforgettable tragic scene in the war: Yuanmingyuan fire; When the Japanese army slaughtered Lushun residents, there were corpses everywhere and rivers of blood; The Japanese sent unarmed China youths to the suburbs for mass slaughter; The poison gas in World War II made people cry. In the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, those eyes that are eager to go to school but have dull eyes ... let us be a little honest and don't let it happen again. When will our world turn swords into plowshares?
Of course, we won't forget those who made amends for the war. Former Federal Chancellor Brandt knelt in front of the Warsaw Jewish victims monument to atone; Under great pressure, Hiroshi Dashan, an old Japanese man, spent most of his life tirelessly questioning the Japanese government's war of aggression against China for justice and peace. Dong, a Japanese, was a veteran who participated in the Nanjing Massacre. However, after the 1980s, he came to Nanjing many times, sincerely apologized to people, and published information about the Nanjing Massacre. These, we cannot but be moved by them. Let's make swords for the world and contribute to the plow.
War destroyed not only cities, but also homes; War kills not only life, but also beautiful human nature.
Ba Jin said: "Man's hope is like an eternal star, and dark clouds can't cover its light. Especially today, peace is not an ideal, not a dream, it is the wish of ten thousand people. "
So, let the world make peace.
9. Who wrote the modern poem Pear Tree?
A pear tree in front of the door, which is usually inconspicuous, is now full of fruits and bent.
-inscription
People only like it twice a year.
Once it blossoms, once it bears fruit.
Calculate carefully.
It should be a month and a half.
That's 45 days.
If the life span is calculated as 60 years,
Can be praised 120 times
Ninety months, 2700 days.
If this calculation method holds.
I think this kind of life is worthwhile.
Written on July 23rd, 20 16.
About the author: Li Jiafeng, the net name: Walking by the River, a former water conservancy worker, is now retired. Once lived in the source of Sanjiangyuan, Wanshan Sect, natural, interactive with nature, broad-minded, heroic and not crowded, swallowing the sky, including eight shortages, free and easy inside, flowing out of dust. Playing with the cool breeze of the mountain stream, chanting the snow-capped mountains and ice peaks, laughing at the hardships of the world, giving up the helplessness of the world, and ups and downs with him, I am carefree.