Seek a poem "Happy My Youth" which is suitable for two or four people.

1

Woman: Time flies.

We walked along the time tunnel,

Through the wind, through the rain,

Walking through the shining teenagers,

Unconsciously entered the festival of life-youth.

M: Youth is an impassioned poem.

From this, we read the magnificent momentum of Qin and Han Dynasties and the prosperous times of Tang Dynasty.

I read about the heroism and great ambition of the revolutionary ancestors.

Read about ambition and courage.

W: Youth is a song, passionate and uplifting.

We heard the whispers of spring and the birth of life.

Hearing the call of the times, a dynamic generation.

Heard the passion.

M: Youth is a complicated road full of thorns.

We will get lost, fall and get hurt.

We create heaven and earth with ideals.

Since then, I have learned to be strong and persistent.

W: Youth is a colorful and pleasing picture.

We draw a "dream paradise" in our hearts with a brush.

Discredit sb.' s bright future

Learn to pursue persistence from now on.

H: ah! Baodi no.4 high school

You are the place where my youth flies.

Woman: From a historical perspective.

We stand on the shoulders of history and overlook it.

Man: In the stormy waves of Hukou of the Yellow River.

A lasting passion hovers in my heart.

Woman: In the Xue Hai of Mount Everest.

A kind of true purity that remains unchanged for thousands of years is refreshing.

Man: In the tunnel of Qin Terracotta Warriors.

Powerful and profound gripping.

W: In the blue waves of the West Lake.

A kind of beauty that crosses history is intoxicating.

M: All these.

We were shocked by it.

We pursue it wholeheartedly.

Combination: pursuit, pursuit, pursuit of beauty

2 Youth Tetralogy

(1) Three In the snow

It snowed in March.

My mother died in the dust

It's not just the winter sunshine that disappears in the sky.

And flying pigeons.

The strings are broken.

I fell on the top of the mountain in the depths of Yuntao and cried.

March is the season when flowers bloom.

And my harvest is really the withering of flowers all over the world.

On the snowy road

Dance with dead leaves

I sat on the ground.

Look up at the gates of heaven every night.

And the river that can't swim.

The stars have long since disappeared.

There is no touch of the moon on the ditch.

I debug with my own tears.

Playing a prime minister's song on a snowy night.

(2) Unrequited love

look at you

Sprinkle light green in my lonely autumn

Grow into crazy spring grass

(3) My youth

The dark sky in winter

No beautiful birds fly by.

a pool of stagnant water—stagnant/lifeless condition

No fish swims happily

I flew into the sky.

Overlooking the flowers projected on the running water

I found that it had turned yellow in the wind of years.

Childhood is a complete mirror.

Youth is a mottled leaf.

Who is full of worried mountains and valleys?

Who sleeps in the dream of white clouds?

The cuckoo sings every night in spring.

But the passion that has passed away?

(4) Bright March

Bright March

Many flowers and shadows

The wind shakes the green leaves

I opened the window.

The sun came in.

Drive away the shadows.

I hear lonely and broken voices.

The shredded water of youth taken away by birds

Isn't it my sadness that shines?

Forget all this.

The wine I once drank.

Once lost mountain road

The snow on the mountain has melted.

In this beautiful March

Let's listen to the whispers of flowers and dreams together.