Poetry, like a gentle spring breeze, sweeps across our heart lake; Poetry, like dew falling from petals, taps on the window of our hearts; Poetry is like a soaring petrel, crossing the horizon of life. I like poetry because she is beautiful. I like poetry because it is mysterious. I like poetry because she is gentle. In this flower season, because of the company of poetry, my life is more substantial.
I like the song "To Youth" written by Xi Murong: "All endings have been written/all tears have begun/but I suddenly forgot how it started/in the summer when I didn't come back." Yes, youth is as beautiful as flowers, and we are striving hard in this flower season.
Practice with persistence and wander occasionally; Water carries sweat and occasionally tears. The beauty of youth needs our heart to feel. Staring at the collection of poems, I was lost in thought: "No matter how you pursue it, young you just pass by like a cloud/then turn on the yellow title page/fate binds her badly/but you have to admit that youth is a too hasty book."
"Yes, youth is like a blank book, and we need to decorate it with our own brilliance. But inadvertently, youth seems to slip away quietly. The pages have begun to turn yellow, but what did we do in those days? Just mediocre. When youth begins to leave quietly, should we wake up: youth is about to disappear, so we should grasp it well.