Xu zhimo's poem about reading 1. Notes on Xu Zhimo's Selected Poems
Finding Xu Zhimo's poems in his leisure time really gives people a kind of enjoyment of beauty, but also a kind of emotional release and a kind of soul washing, especially the song Farewell to Cambridge.
After reading Farewell to Cambridge, the first few words took my soul away. Feel the beauty of peace and sadness it brings me. The poet's talent and sentimentality, like catkins, float slowly, with deep meaning in it, naturally. Appreciate its ethereal and lightness in your free will. The author's love for Cambridge University and his impression of his study and life haunt him. How to express true feelings and true meaning? This is just He Kanghe. "The golden willow by the river is the bride in the sunset; Beautiful shadows in the waves ripple in my heart. " The grass and trees around He Kanghe became the author's emotional sustenance. It is precisely because of the author's deep affection that even the golden willow by the river has become a bride, and "I" would rather be a water plant. Writing here, the poet's heart is "rippling" with irresistible tenderness. "The grass on the soft mud is oily and swaying at the bottom of the water." The poet's surging feelings reached a climax here. You see, "in the gentle waves of He Kanghe, I would like to be an aquatic plant!" " "Stay in his beloved He Kang forever.
The benevolent loves mountains, and the wise man love the water. A gentle water wave, a trickle, most easily touches the poet's heart. Not only He Kang is the carrier of inspiration, but other mountains and other waters often come into contact with the author. In a sentimental article, the author wrote, "Flow, flow, flow, flow to the Arno River." Obviously, in the eyes of sentimental writers, this river seems to be capable of understanding.
I met her a long time ago, but since we separated, the time has become longer. He left quietly, just as he came quietly. A touch of sadness, like a misty mist, wet the poet's mood. He even greedily looked at all the beautiful things in front of him. He wants to go home with everything here. But he couldn't even bear to take away a cloud on the horizon. Then, let him make a final farewell with his attachment to Cambridge!
"That pool under the shade of elm is not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky." The pool here is no longer just a pool of clear water, but a blend of the poet's beautiful feelings. It is colorful and rich in connotation. "A dream? Support a long pole and swim back to a greener place on the grass; Full of starlight, singing in the splendor of starlight. " What a beautiful image, what a hot confession "But I can't sing, it's a farewell party quietly; Summer insects are also silent for me. Silence is Cambridge tonight! " Reality and dreams, present and past, are gone. "I" try my best to pursue my arms, and "I" want to have that brilliant and sweet life. However, the happiness and joy of that year have now turned into silence and can no longer be found. The early passion and romance have now turned into a light smoke-like sadness. You don't have to see me off, you don't have to say goodbye with tears, you don't even have to "take away a cloud", you just have to "come gently" and "walk quietly". However, the beauty and tranquility of He Kanghe will remain in the poet's mind forever, and the poet's soul has long been integrated with Cambridge.
The whole poem is flowing, natural and smooth, vivid and meaningful, with clouds and delusion. Harmonious sentence patterns and wonderful metaphors. The rhythm of poetry. Charm and artistic conception of poetry. I think it is not only the beauty of poetry that is left to the world!
There will always be something eternal in people's spirit, and only in this way will there be so many literary classics; Only in this way, when we read the classic works of sages, we can still respond to distant authors and regain the touch of yesterday. Therefore, reading is the restoration and re-experience of the author's aesthetic experience. Farewell to Cambridge is the best poem in Xu Zhimo's masterpiece. Scholars who study Xu Zhimo pay more attention to the formal beauty of this poem-the beauty of music, architecture and picture, but say little about the poet's feelings of disappointment when writing this poem. When I returned to Cambridge (Cambridge University, England), the poet was no longer the frivolous Xu Zhimo. All my dreams are broken like soap bubbles, leaving only memories. Going back to Cambridge, where I have the most memories, how can I not disappoint this passionate poet? Maybe he remembered when he was studying here yesterday, maybe he remembered when Lin wanted to say goodbye yesterday, maybe. ...
Therefore, the feelings of this poem are rich and complicated, both the joy of revisiting the old place and the sigh of things that have changed. Miraculously, all this was felt by the little author, who wrote it down like running water without any preparation. So among all the unexpected things, I thought of another point: let students try bravely, and they will often create amazing results!
2. Poetry about "reading"
Take it out of context-You stand on the bridge and watch the scenery in Zhi Lin, and the people watching the scenery are watching you upstairs.
The bright moon decorated your window, and you decorated other people's dreams. Author: Xi Murong Life can actually be a poem. If you can let me move forward slowly, looking forward to looking for it quietly, I finally shed tears in the dark clouds that are deepening in the twilight. In fact, life can always be a poem in the end. My heart will be cleaner after the rainstorm. If you are willing to wait for all the floating clouds to finally merge into rivers and rain lanes-Dai Wangshu. The rain lane is holding an oil-paper umbrella and wandering alone in a long, long and lonely rain lane. I hope to meet an aunt with a bitter fragrance.
She has the color of lilac, the fragrance of lilac and the sadness of lilac. She mourns in the rain and seems to have lost something. She seems to wander in this lonely rain lane, holding an oil-paper umbrella like me, walking silently like me, cold and desert, sad and melancholy. She approached silently and breathed a sigh of relief. She drifted like a dream, like a dream.
Like a fragrant field floating in a dream, this girl floated from me; She walked away quietly, far away, to the broken fence and across the rainy path. In the elegy of the rain, her face faded, her fragrance dispersed and dispersed, even her sighing eyes and Ding Xiang's melancholy.
Holding an oil-paper umbrella, a person lingers in a long, lonely rain lane, hoping to float past an aunt with a bitter fragrance. Shu Ting's > If I love you-/I'll never learn to climb Jinbao tree flowers,/I'll show off myself on your high branches; /If I love you-/Never learn from spoony birds,/Repeat monotonous songs for the shade; /It's not just like a fountain/It brings cool comfort all year round; /It's not just like a dangerous peak,/It increases your height and sets off your dignity.
/Even if it's sunshine/even if it's spring rain/No, it's not enough/I must be a kapok beside you,/standing with you as a tree. /root, clenched in the ground; /Leaves, lingering in the clouds.
Every time a gust of wind blows, we greet each other. /But nobody understood us. /You have your copper branches and iron shafts. /Like a knife, like a sword, like a halberd. /I have my red flowers,/like a heavy sigh,/like a heroic torch/we share the cold wave, lightning and thunder; /We * * * enjoy the misty rainbow; /seemingly separated forever, but dependent for life. /This is great love. /I believe it. /Love/Not only your stalwart body,/but also your persistent position and the land under your feet. Author: Yu Guangzhong's works: Listening to the night in the mountains: Midnight in the mountains is like a dream. What is better than complete silence? No matter how long and busy history is, there will always be a moment, so there is no need to argue, right? But what about the wind? You mean the wind? A little bit is caused by the passage of time, and occasionally a little bit is the echo of Dai Wangshu's "I Use a Broken Palm". I groped for this vast land with my broken palm: this corner has turned to ashes, and that corner is just blood and mud? Nbsp, this lake should be my hometown. In spring, the bank is full of flowers, and the tender willow branches are broken with strange fragrance. ) I touch seaweed and cool water. The snow peaks in Changbai Mountain are freezing cold, and the water and sediment of the Yellow River slip through your fingers. The rice fields in Jiangnan are so soft ... now there is only Artemisia scoparia; Litchi flowers in Lingnan are lonely and withered. For now, I have soaked in the bitter water of the South China Sea without a fishing boat ... The invisible palm swept the mountains without hatred, and my fingers were stained with blood and ash, and my palms were stained with darkness. Only the distant corner is still intact, warm, clear, firm and vigorous.
On it, I touched it with my broken palm, like a lover's soft hair, like a baby's milk. I put all my strength on the palm of my hand and put it on it, sending love and all my hopes, because only where there is sun and spring will we drive away the darkness and bring Su Sheng, because only there will we not live like animals and die like ants … There, eternal China! Shu Ting's "Motherland, My Dear Motherland" I am an old waterwheel on your river, spinning tired songs for hundreds of years; When you grope in the tunnel of history, I am a miner's lamp with black forehead; I am a withered ear of rice; It is a roadbed that has been in disrepair for a long time; It is the barge on the muddy beach that pulls the rope deep into your shoulder; -the motherland! I'm poor and I'm sad.
I am the pain of your ancestors, and I am a flower that never falls to the ground between the sleeves of "flying"; -the motherland! I am your brand-new ideal, just breaking away from the spider web of myth; I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow; I am your laughing vortex with tears hanging; I am the newly painted white starting line; What is breaking out is the crimson dawn; -the motherland! I am one billionth of you, the sum of your 9.6 million square meters; You fed me with scarred breasts, confused me, considerate me and boiled me; Then get yours from my flesh and blood; Abundance, your glory, your freedom; -Motherland, my dear motherland! "Paper Boat" I once folded many paper boats for entertainment and put them in a dead pool with no way out without complaint. I still fold paper boats in the lonely night without complaint, and prepare a warm harbor for them. I have no way out. I have a problem. Who can give me a harbor to complain about a generation? The night in the ancient city gave me black eyes, but I used them to look for light. Farewell to Cambridge (Xu Zhimo) left me gently, just as I came gently; I gently waved goodbye to the clouds in the western sky. The golden willow by the river is the bride in the sunset; Beautiful shadows in the waves ripple in my heart. The green grass on the soft mud is swaying underwater. In the gentle waves of He Kanghe River, I would like to be an aquatic plant. The pool under the shade of elm trees is not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky. Crushed in floating seaweed, a rainbow-like dream is precipitated. Looking for dreams? Support a long pole and swim back to a greener place on the grass; Full of starlight, singing in the splendor of starlight. But I can't sing, quietly a farewell flute; Summer insects are silent for me, too. Silence is Cambridge tonight. I left quietly, just as I came quietly; I waved my sleeve and didn't take away a cloud. This sentence (Ye Zhixiang) is entangled in the wind and sails just to prove that this sentence is heartbreaking. Clouds and moons may be because I quietly said this sentence.
I want to read Xu Zhimo's poems.
Occasionally, I am a cloud in the sky. Occasionally, I am projected in your heart-you don't have to be surprised, let alone happy-and disappear in a blink of an eye.
You and I met in the dark sea, you have yours, I have mine, direction; It would be better if you remember, but you'd better forget the light released at this meeting! Goodbye Cambridge, goodbye Cambridge; My heart is full of feelings of parting. You are my rare confidant. I bid farewell to my parents in my hometown and went to the Pacific Ocean. It's crisp in autumn, and it's been four years. I'm overseas and the beauty is in Europe. The scenery of Fusang, the smell of bananas in Honolulu and the calm waves of the sea have broadened my mind. Now they are all turned into mountains and rivers in dreams, drifting away, at the bottom of my soul mansion; The tears of mother's parting, the color of the towel that sent her son away with weak hands, the salty sea breeze and the elegance of seabirds' attachment are all treasures in my memory. Every time I rub it, I can't help crying. I really want to go home and lie in my mother's arms again to restore my beloved happiness. Every time I think about how much hard work and sacrifice I have paid in my life, I am just wasting money. I've been running around for four years, claiming to study. After all, I picked several flowers and plants on the road of knowledge, climbed several peaks on the mountain of truth and enjoyed wonderful music. Have you ever heard of it? Can you remember? -But what should I say? I am proud of the high-rise buildings and fast civilization. I have never discredited my soul. Today, I can still meet calmly and say goodbye. Goodbye, Cambridge! You and I met late, but in this year, the rage of my spiritual revolution has washed across your charming river. After that, on a clear breeze and bright moon night, when I see the old mark of my passion, I will still stay by the grass bridge. When the swallows return next year, I will remember that I am sighing and singing silently. The brilliant moire and rosy clouds should reflect my thoughts and feelings. On this day, I will retreat to the sky to express my love and praise. Listen! The gentle bell explains the cool mood of the new autumn, and travelers don't care. My soul jumps, I want to change people's voices and waves, cover my love Cambridge, sleep like a loving mother, and slowly hold a gentle kiss; Cambridge! You will always be my hometown of spiritual attachment! Although I go to Wan Li, my dreams always surround you, and I look forward to the West. After returning home, if my mother asks me to make friends overseas, I will count Cambridge first, and then carefully distinguish the days and situations before Dongmei; If I am lucky enough to have a bright star and hope to get unexpected returns, I will come to the spring flower season, and when I return to Xihang, I will come here again, and then I will pick up a poem needle and thread, embroider the flowers of my ideal life, realize the charming footprint of my lingering dream for many years, spread fragrance and rhythm, and increase the romantic flow on the river; So, although I don't mean much, my wishes are also dense. Last night, the moonlight shone on the forest, and I have poured out my heart. This morning, the rain was bleak and the birds were unhappy. Is it also because of the deep feelings of parting, the vines are long and the grass is luxuriant, and the tears are zero! Cambridge! There is gold in the mountains and stars in the sky. The most precious thing in life is the sympathy of love. Even if the gold in the mountain is exhausted and the stars in the sky are scattered, sympathy will always be inexhaustible gold and stars in the universe. Thank you for your peaceful and peaceful environment and holy and happy time. I am smart and wise, and I can only climb and wash myself. Young seedlings flourish with spring grass, soak up the sun and moon, listen to nature, and nurture immortal literary elites in ancient and modern times. Climbing to the top, suddenly looking back, I saw the vast brilliance of truth, goodness and beauty, covering my wings in the lower bound of humanitarian peristalsis, showing the latitude and longitude of life, blood is red and gold, full of the hardships of loving the Lord and loving God; Cambridge! Are you not the source of my life? You treat me like a treasure, countless; I will never forget the music of Starphosphorus Dam under Staten Bridge. I am diligent in playing and dancing. I often languish in the middle of the night, listening to the tired cows chewing in the dark of the pasture at night, listening to the fish jumping between the grass and the insects sneering. Unforgettable spring night, splashing a sea of pure gold, drowning the bell tower of the temple tower, with long walls, thousands of cigarettes, white water and green trees in the forest, unforgettable; On the giant stem, I put on a thin layer of tea green, but I taught the setting sun to put on a little rouge, pretending to be coy; Unforgettable July evening, the trees in the distance are quiet, like a mountain shape splashed with ink, lined with soft moth color, thick, seven points of goose yellow and three points of orange green, which can only be captured on the edge of Qiu Meng; Under the shade of the elm tree, the unforgettable poetic bird, full of passion, taught the rose to nod tearfully, dance around the sky, sing quietly, live in a romantic dream far and near, deeply obsessed with fragrance; Unforgettable village girl's blush and white neck; Unforgettable embroidered screen with weeping willows on the banks of Hekang River, Calea ② of Nana, and Shuomei Alumni Mansion; -But how can I do all this? In short, the people here are very harmonious. Although it is as small as an inch of mustard, there is no lack of pure spirit: running through it, this spirit is like the so-called "opening my blood and strengthening my heart" and has the power to "train my heart and correct my heart"; Although I went to my hometown, I was afraid to leave and leave my hometown; Cambridge! Hearing this in my hometown, I can complain about your love, but I have my own words to answer for you; I'm leaving today. I remember the new waxberry season next spring. I hope I can come back with a smile. Goodbye, my dear Cambridge.
Farewell, Cambridge. I left gently, just as I came gently; I waved my hand gently and bid farewell to the clouds in the western sky. The golden willow by the river is the bride in the sunset; Beautiful shadows in the waves ripple in my heart.
Green grass on the soft mud, oily, swaying at the bottom of the water; In the gentle waves of He Kanghe, I would like to be an aquatic plant! That pool under the shade of elm is not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky, broken in floating algae and precipitated a rainbow-like dream. Looking for dreams? Support a long pole, wander to a greener place on the grass, load a boat with splendor, and sing in splendor.
But I can't play the piano, just a farewell flute; Summer insects are also silent for me. Silence is Cambridge tonight. I left quietly, just as I came quietly; I waved my sleeve without taking away a cloud.
I sit in the middle of the night: when there is a round light outside the window, the wind in the streets and lanes carries dust: I want to curl a broken tune on the bare nib to express my broken thoughts. Sitting deep in the middle of the night: the fierce night cold is at the window, jealous of the residual heat in the room, and I don't forgive my limbs: but I will draw some broken patterns with semi-dry ink, because broken is my thought.
Sitting in the middle of the night, there are ugly ghosts around: withered and lonely trees are shouting by the cold river, which is like a desperate gesture.
4. Poetry about "reading"
Silent Banana Shao Yanxiang Banana, why are you standing at my window in silence? The branches and leaves are reserved and indifferent. Before, you were not like this. Li Qingzhao's atrium, Cao Xueqin's courtyard, you roll up the blue wax, and the lights splash near dusk. The wind and rain began to beat bamboo fences and tile houses. Who will accompany me to the wine fever? The silent banana wants to talk, please treat me as a friend, argue, please treat me as an opponent, and break the Feuerbach-style loneliness in this stormy country night. My friend, you finally spoke. While listening, you said that the lights were flashing, while thinking about the banana. The banana made me warm and cold, and it rained on you all night by the window. You were constantly lonely. Not life, I often enjoy a kind of loneliness, Liu Zhanqiu. I often enjoy a kind of thinking about silence, loneliness and nature. Whether it is flowers in the sun or stars in the dim moonlight, it gives me freedom and tolerance. I often enjoy a lonely and silent pace or a goldfish in a jar on the table. Venus, who doesn't ask daffodils, looks at me. No one interfered with my imaginary flight. At this time, I don't feel pain and loneliness. I can hear the sound of running water in a clear spring and waltzes sliding across the grass on summer nights. I want to run to the street and embrace a warm and colorful life at once.
5. Sentences about reading
Sentences about reading
1, no one will die because of reading. Everyone studies himself from books, and either finds himself or controls himself.
2. You can't believe a book without thinking. It is a way of learning to ask questions boldly, diligently extract information, analyze information and find out the relationship between them.
3. Good books are the most precious wealth.
4. Reading is learning, extracting is sorting, and writing is creating.
The more I read, the more books bring me closer to this world, and for me, life becomes brighter and more meaningful.
6. Reading without using it is equal to waste paper.
7, read thousands of books, have no ambition, just like getting rich, quite bitter and money.
8. There is no other way to study, only sincere and open-minded, and repeated fine play, which is the ear of merit.
9. Read step by step; You can't read books until they are ripe, so don't wait hastily, although it's useless.
10, my lifelong hobby, besides revolution, is reading. I can't live without reading for a day.
Reading is as important to wisdom as gymnastics is to the body.
12, a good book is a good friend and lasts forever.
13, books are the summary of human knowledge. Books are the nourishment of the whole world.
6. Modern poetry about reading.
Want me to remind you that you won't forget what you told me? I cherish them all, too. For us, memory is an indelible day-it will never turn yellow. When we are together, it is always short. When we look forward to it, it's always a long time. How many shiny lines did the stream pick up? If you want to miss me, look at the twinkling stars in the sky. My eyes are on you-the back of light is always simple, the back of scenery is always young, and youth is a clear back. It is always subtle and subtle. This is a kind of charm. The back is always lonely and unforgettable. However, I prefer to let others admit that as long as there is nothing wrong with the road, fame and fortune have always been flowers and shackles. No matter what the ending becomes, there will inevitably be an eternal happiness in the process of flowing. Although I sometimes pray for a moment to make my life brilliant, I prefer to keep my mind quiet and indifferent. I know that happiness is the post of life, and pain is the voyage of life. I know that the best gift is to send you a quiet sky when you are in a heavy mood. You will be confused and awake in the dead of night. You will feel a pair of warm eyes. I know that when you dry the tears on your cheeks, you will smile brightly. I will say to you gently, let's go. Look, Sophora japonica is fragrant and the moonlight is bright. Traveling to distant places has a temptation for us, either beautiful or legendary. Even if the distant scenery is not satisfactory, we don't need to care, because this is really a fascinating mistake. Looking up is spring, looking down is autumn, and all happiness will follow you. It's a full moon, a lack of it, and a poetic wish-write a birthday to a friend because of your arrival. The sky turned into a beautiful day, and since then, the world has added a touch of attractive color, and the painting screen in my memory has also added many beautiful memories. My dear friend, please accept my deep blessing. May all the joy accompany you to a distant place, a familiar place without scenery. If talent is not recognized, it is better to accumulate strength through persistence than curse. There is no curse. It will only dim the original light, and the spirit of the tree will be lost in the dim light. What's more, floating clouds float, floating clouds float. Since no one knows the stars today, why not make a bright moon tomorrow? If life is not generous enough, we don't have to be stingy with returns. Why should we be careful, give and get as much as possible? If we can be generous, why should we look obscene? If you can be chic, why choose? Choosing loneliness is a kind of satisfaction and giving is a kind of happiness. How can I thank you? When I came to you, I wanted to harvest a spring breeze, but you gave me the whole spring. How can I thank you? When I came to you, I wanted to hold a wave, but you gave me the whole ocean. How can I thank you? When I came to you, I wanted to pick a red leaf, but you gave me the whole maple forest. How can I thank you? I want to kiss a snowflake, but you gave me a silver world. I go boating to the moon. Please don't blame me for living alone sometimes. It takes courage to know loneliness. Don't think that just because the flag is flying in front, there will be my footsteps behind. I don't worship what I don't understand. I rowed the boat to the moon, connecting pursuit with independence, connecting life with freedom, as long as tomorrow is here and spring is here. I won't be sad now, even if the night devours everything, the sun can still come back, as long as my life is still there. Even if I am trapped in the vast desert, where there is an oasis of hope, I will not be sad as long as I am still there tomorrow. Winter snow will eventually melt quietly, and spring thunder will surely roll in. When my will falls, my life will no longer stand upright. How can I stand the bleak autumn leaves and the evening breeze coming, with my head down just to lift my heart? Only when there is an unyielding soul under your feet can there be a solid land. Wherever you go, there will be countless pairs of eyes following you. We know ourselves from others. Good luck. Spring is not over yet, but I feel that spring is easy to get old and time is flowing. Are you willing to fate like wormwood? Colorful colors make your brain dizzy and indifferent. Life may be a good medicine. You shouldn't be content with poverty, but how can you ruin everything without a little lofty and withered character? Good luck. May your heart be as good as luck. Withered flowers are your life in spring. Why did I see Frost Leaf's face just because that beautiful mirror broke your attachment and lingered in your dream for a long time? Since you can't reach out and hold the moon in the water, it's not just yesterday that has become a memory and commemoration of life. There is a colorful dying flower-not the promise of spring. Don't believe too much that commitment is a pine cone made by time. Although wonderful, who can guarantee that it will not be defeated by the season and fight for its own destiny? Mastering your own life is your own drawing board. Why do you have to rely on others to paint and choose your own path? You still can't see the scenery. I can't see the scenery Your heart is bitter and confused. A ship without sails is better than death. Sail without compass, you can only wander around. If you are a fish, don't be infatuated with the sky. If you are a bird, don't stand up for your friends, you won't fall down. What's more, we will go to the waves. This is a memorial to trace the end of the world. It is a warm flower, which can discover what the sun, the moon and the stars are trekking in spring, autumn, winter and summer. We just walk hand in hand. You said that when you see the sea, you will laugh comfortably. Yes, yes, our laughter can hold the clouds, but I don't know if it will be tears when we want to laugh. How did a flowering tree (Xi Murong) let you meet me at my most beautiful moment? For this reason, I have been chanting in front of the Buddha for 500 years, so that we can form a dusty Buddha, so I became a tree, growing in the sun along the only way you have to go, which is my hope in my previous life. Please listen carefully when you come near. Trembling leaves are my passion for waiting, when you finally. I walked past my friend who fell behind you. Those are not petals. That's my withered homesickness (Xi Murong). The song of my hometown is a Qingyuan flute. It always rings on a moonlit night, but my hometown's face is a vague disappointment, like waves in the fog. After parting, homesickness is a tree without rings. Youth without complaint (Xi Murong) If you fall in love with someone when you are young, please.
7. Poetry about Reading Festival
American poet Longfellow's Arrow and Song;
I shot an arrow into the air,
I don't know where I dropped it;
It flies too fast,
Eyes can't keep up with its trail.
I spit out a song in the air,
I don't know where it landed;
Who has such a sharp eye, such a strong eye,
Can I catch the singing flight?
A long time later, in the oak tree,
I found the arrow, and it hasn't broken yet;
And that song, I also found it,
Hide in the heart of a friend from beginning to end.
I want to say a word in this article: I just want to let go of my feelings. How clever the idea here is.
Country wine of Taiwan Province poet Lan Shu;
Thirty years ago.
You look at me from the top of the willow tree
I am young.
The countryside is just right.
Niyuan
People are also round.
Thirty years later.
I look at you from the top of the coconut tree.
You are a cup.
Aroma wine
You are a man.
Homesickness is also full.
It can be described as sincere and meaningful. Here we can see how beautiful and moving the artistic conception created by the poet is.
Xu zhimo s farewell to Cambridge;
I left quietly,
When I came softly;
I waved gently,
Say goodbye to the western clouds.
8. Ask for poems about reading festival
& amplt； Autumn moon &; gt； Xu zhimo
The same moonlight,
Tonight, because we are all looking up-
Look at it, full of charm,
Being a thug from a black man
Rising in the clouds—
It looks extraordinarily bright and round.
It spread on the road,
It floats on the water,
It is immersed in
Water plants knot like sadness.
Underwater;
It's on the ridge of the ancient city,
Thousands of city bricks are in its glory.
Breathe,
It stroked.
Grave ruins scattered inside and outside the city,
In the constant cry of resident birds,
Want to see old and new ghosts,
Stand together like us,
Eyes shining,
Chewing the biting shade:
Silver lingering poetry
Like the star phosphorus on the water,
Flying in the dew.
Listen to the songs of the four fields-
Eternal and humble harmony,
Sadness and joy,
Hatred and love,
Preserve heat energy in the dark,
In this secluded autumn night and autumn field
In the vast universe,
The greatness of "solution"
In all the tiny depths
launch
Baby's smile!