Modern Poetry in Hometown

Modern poetry in my hometown 1 misty and rainy,

Biliuwa

Only on Qingshi Road,

Only at the creek bridge in the evening.

I can't help wondering,

Like wine in the sunset,

Makes me a little drunk.

Wild wrens in early spring,

Lotus in midsummer,

Looking at Shu in late autumn,

Jade bone in winter.

In that gorgeous starry sky,

Under a shady tree,

Maybe it's the habitat of fireflies,

Or a dream.

Modern poems in my hometown 2 If the cloud knows

That stormy night

I kept thinking about her until dawn.

Will she miss me, too?

Cloud in hometown

Like a flock of little white sheep

Every night after school.

I chased them out of breath.

Cloud in hometown

Have a pair of wings

Every day, fly and fly.

I stood on the earth wall.

Jump up hard

I can't catch her.

Cloud in hometown

Slowly and I have feelings.

Where should I go?

Where she followed.

On the way home from school.

It's also on the small court.

Cloud in hometown

On the morning when I left my hometown.

Suddenly changed color.

Sitting on a speeding train

I saw her shed a few tears.

Can't catch up with me

Just like when I couldn't catch up with her.

On a stormy night

I went back to my childhood.

Back to my hometown

Standing on the crumbling earth wall

Shout at the top of one's lungs

Cloud in hometown

Never appeared in my mind.

I panicked. I panicked completely.

Where did the cloud in my hometown go?

Hometown Modern Poetry 3 Hometown's eyes stand on the Milky Way.

See all his children.

Humiliating tears left for survival

Tears turned into colorful butterflies in the depths of mulberry fields.

The strong will always be the master of the home of life.

My hometown never begrudges my love for my children.

Love to sleep in children's dreams after work.

My hometown will take my mother's hand for a leisurely walk.

When high-rise buildings and cement roads plunder the poetry of hometown

The young wheat field died under the cement.

The young stream died in the roar of the paper mill.

Young date, lonely death in money.

Young people die of another value.

The smoke from my hometown disappeared in the turbid air

The eyes of my hometown stand above the Milky Way.

Looking at all his children with pity.

Kneel for the dignity of survival.

Hometown, Zaoyuan sang softly in my childhood.

My hometown, the swallow nest sings softly in my eyes.

In my hometown, my friends are singing softly in the cornfield.

Hometown, simple years are singing gently in my heart.

The eyes of my hometown stand above the Milky Way.

As bright as a girl's feelings

goddess

If you can't bring wheat from your hometown

Please bring your hometown's eyes.

A vagrant who expresses his feelings in poor poetry.

The eyes of his hometown are his study.

Perhaps, you have gone through many vicissitudes now.

Perhaps, now you have become more and more desolate.

Perhaps, it seems that more and more people have forgotten you.

But you are still the hot sun in my heart.

I still miss you deeply.

Your figure still haunts my mind.

Remember every footprint we left on you?

Remember every corner we hid when we played hide-and-seek

Never forget that we ask you for sweet fruit again and again.

Your arms are so warm.

We can grow up carefree in your arms.

Your mind is so broad.

Never complain about children's endless demands.

You have promoted the growth of generations.

You have the laughter of generations.

You have recorded the footprints of generations.

But now you are everyone's memory.

You are a great mother.

Raised generations of children.

You are a loving mother.

Create healthy children with life.

at present

You are lonely.

Children go their separate ways.

throughout?the?country

But you don't have to worry.

Perhaps, they are not as closely United as before.

Perhaps, they can't get together in big and small things.

Maybe they have too many possibilities.

But they are your children after all.

So industrious

So kind

So simple

So down-to-earth

Work hard like that.

Whenever and wherever, their hearts will throb for you.

Their hearts also belong to one place because of you.

You are their eternal concern and memory.

They have a mother, Tianchiping!

Perhaps, your name is not so loud!

Will not last forever.

Not to mention a household name.

However, it is the warmth of every child who leaves home!

Go far, I can't forget you!

I always liked it when I was young.

Sit on the windowsill

Look at my hometown.

Round moon

Grandma always said

La Bamba

Talk about it.

Let my childhood memories

Always in

Flowing through the galaxy

When you grow up, you always have to leave

My hometown

But I always

Miss the moon in my hometown

Moonlight in my hometown

Will always put me

Childhood dreams, light up

In my memory, the moonlight in my hometown

Always hide

Outside the village. In the river.

With us

Children in the village

Play hide-and-seek together

In my memory, the moonlight in my hometown

Sometimes.

Hanging in front of my house

Laoyushushang

Listen to the cicadas in the tree.

Play that old love song

Sing and sing

In my memory, the moonlight in my hometown

Sometimes it becomes

Very curved, very curved.

Like, a greedy brother.

almost

Put my piece of moon cake

Eat up, too

In my memory, the moonlight in my hometown

Sometimes it becomes

Very round, very round.

There will always be.

Mid-autumn night

For our whole family.

take a picture

Circle and circle stage

People are in other places, and dreams are in their hometown.

In my heart

Always hide

Moonlight in my hometown

I know

Whenever I leave home

How long has it been?

No matter how I get home

How long has it been?

Moonlight in my hometown

Always put

On the way home, the wanderer lit up.

Hometown Modern Poetry 6 Hometown is a cup of rice wine, where I miss my homesickness.

I don't know how far to go.

Meet you and hold hands.

Hometown or hometown

After walking for so long, I wonder if you have changed?

Now, in these photos,

Is there the most beautiful time in the memory of teenagers?

Please let me drink a cup of sorrow for you.

In the days of wandering.

Let my attachment stay in your heart.

Forever, forever

Modern Poetry of Hometown 7 Someone overflowed the dam, and smoke waves wrapped around the dusk.

At a sad crossroads

Well noise

A good dream spanning a thousand years

Set out in the sunset cage

Raise your lazy eyes

Shepherd's whip

The crisp bell rang at the entrance to the village.

Another burning night.

A face that reflects light.

The laughter of some children

Echo in the valley

The dead tree is still watching.

Branches and leaves are swaying in the cold wind.

Imagine a lot of good news.

Shuttle through the shade of trees

Modern Poetry in Hometown 8 The wheels keep turning.

Wu Peng kept shaking.

I returned to my hometown.

Stepping into the countryside-there is a sense of intimacy.

In this cold winter.

I came to the bustling city.

Hometown-

How can I forget you?

How can you forget the sound of flat oars?

How can you forget the mottled fishing lamp?

How warm is the wind in early spring?

Lift the child's heart and fly.

Riverside. The river is everywhere.

The image of a child flying a kite

only

The spool is turning—

Kites fly into the blue sky.

Leave home

I went to the bustling city.

I am looking for Shaoxing in my heart in a foreign land.

In a bar in Shanghai

Order a plate of fennel beans

Take one and throw it in your mouth—

My hometown is nearby.

I am in a foreign land.

I am still from Shaoxing.

Open those old photo albums.

whisk away the dust

The picture is still clear

Wu Peng, Zhi Zhi

Daodao Bi Hen

It seems-

You can still hear the boatman rowing.

another

Qingshi road

Moss mottling

Freehand brushwork flower and bird

Stop in a tree, make a hullabaloo about, make a noise.

There are many, many ...

Shenyuan, San Tan Yin Yue, Qingteng Bookstore, Lanting ...

No overflow

An invisible feeling.

I am in a foreign land.

I am still from Shaoxing.

By the water, the beach is near the water.

The island in the mountain stands by the mountain.

Shaoxing people are a

Hold on to the umbilical cord.

That's the sweat and blood under your feet.

How many heroes have given?

Betty Wong Gou Lu Jian Xun Cai Yuanpei

Qiu Jin, Zhou Enlai ...

at present

Wonderful life

Is it not the crystallization of their efforts?

I

Stay away from that big city.

I'm back-

Shaoxing

My haunted hometown

There are tears all over my skirt. ...

Hometown Modern Poetry 9 Hometown

The way you are vaguely in my heart.

You are the dust from my ancestors.

Stop here and start to precipitate.

Mother also failed.

Get out of the entanglement of bay water

hometown

Remember the day when I left you.

Thoughts run on winding roads.

With tears in his eyes, stubborn

The river that falls on the person I love and nourishes me.

Hold it in your hand, heavy moonlight

hometown

When I moved, your appearance was worn out.

I only remember that you were my childhood paradise.

Where to start and accumulate time.

Migratory birds go to the river to wash their feathers every year.

I can't reach the tip of your hair.

hometown

You are the invisible cornerstone that rises in my heart.

No matter what land my feet step on.

Years change and seasons change.

I will push that door open forever.

I know that where there is a mother, there is a hometown.

hometown

I put on my wings and came back with memories.

Approaching the smoke gently, I saw it.

The house is short and the river is narrow.

When I jumped on you

You pinched my arm.

The modern poem 10 in my hometown often dreams of returning to my hometown recently.

take a wait-and-see approach

Something that once brought us infinite joy.

That clear river

Looking back quietly

A happy and carefree childhood.

Little friends are playing in the water.

Fight, run away in fear

Small fish, big river shrimp and

A crab walking sideways.

Cheerful laughter resounded through the valley

My hometown is in the mountains.

The air there is full of flowers.

The sky is high and clear.

White clouds float freely.

Dense forest bushes

Bamboo is green and dripping.

Weeds, wild flowers and wild fruits are everywhere.

Clusters of dots.

There is also a Panshan highway.

Creeping into the distance.

There are peaks all around.

The mountains are full of mystery.

Parents are always so hard.

Bamboo on the mountain becomes wood.

Must be cut down and carried.

Then replant the forest protection.

The father warned the child.

The mountains are not fun at all.

Scorpions, wasps, poisonous snakes

When you touch sumac, your whole body itches.

So I am full of fear of mountains.

No longer dare

Dive into the arms of the mountains

Pick wild fruits and wild flowers

Mother chattered endlessly.

Look how hard your father works.

Dressed up and came back from the mountain.

No place is dry.

Soak in sweat

You have to.

study hard

Going out of the mountains in the future

When we walked out of the mountain

Running around in the bustling city

But silent in the muddy and noisy air.

There is no turning back.

Looking for that pure happiness

Modern poems in my hometown 1 1 We planted this soil.

This is the solidification of our love for our hometown.

We planted this tree,

This is our sincere love for our hometown.

This soil,

This is the prelude to our parting.

This tree,

Instead of looking at the road to my hometown.

We look at this land,

We look at this tree.

We can't be as sticky as dirt,

We can't be as strong as trees.

But we love our hometown,

Love the steps we left behind.

We spread our wings and flew outside,

But there will always be people coming home.

Asked us why we left,

Because I want to lead my hometown to prosperity.

Modern Poetry in Hometown 12 Sunlight Breathes and the sea surface fluctuates.

Quiet blood flows out of the uterus.

That year, the warship sighed helplessly.

Tears from the outlying islands rolled up the rough waves.

Fishermen crossing the ocean seem to be the last straw of another isolated island.

Sails far away from the harbor have been looking at the island running like a deer.

Missing the island planted under the sea is like a seed.

Grow into clouds, grow into rain, and grow into various shellfish.

Quietly, quietly, quietly, with the tide.

Swim across the sky like a melancholy fish

Take care of every grass and tree on the island.

The soul is like a shell attached to a reef, as warm as home.

Listen to the waves singing like a mother.

Go home, thousands of hands are nailed to the compass day and night.

Like magnetism, I can't extricate myself from generation to generation.

A voyage full of blood, rust and cold.

I can't stand the loneliness of blood away from the pulse any longer.

The messy moonlight on the deck could not drift, and the waves hit the bitter sea.

A kite on the palm of a loving mother's hand.

Year after year, I always hold it carefully.

That bone blood line

The Sweet and Bitter Reading opens another letter in 20xx.

Return tide, wave after wave.

Never stop and go straight to the other side.

Modern Poetry in Hometown 13 Hometown Feelings

Walking in the midsummer dusk

Step on the lush grass

Butterflies are flying

Cicadas are singing and Xia Meng is swaying.

The old waterwheel beside the Yellow River creaked and twisted.

It's from Shu Ting's poem.

The deep voice of history

The village of childhood abandoned a little joy of childhood.

The creeper in the corner has climbed over the wall.

Entanglement, take the hot summer into your arms.

The slope in front of the door

Where there are footprints, it is barren.

It seems that it is not only that slope that is barren.

What else is there?

I just remember it clearly.

Those joys are locked in a long-lost pit.

But I-

Still love this place

I like working in the sunshine in the morning.

The sparrow jumped over the treetops.

Children's laughter, floating in the yard.

What could be more desirable than this?

Envy, butterflies fly from that distant place.

Fly to distant places again.

With heavy steps, I can only crawl on country roads.

I can't leave this sad place.

perhaps

Love one thing without reason.

A moment, an action, a look.

In the end, it will be a belief and a pursuit.

Praise the recommendation of modern poetry in hometown

Modern Poetry in Hometown 14 The sun gathers and shines on the earth.

From the mountain behind the village

Between the branches of pine trees

Slowly descend the mountain

Feng is a keen shepherd.

Roll up colorful clothes crazily.

Keep shouting

Waving branches

Chasing white clouds

A herd of reckless sheep.

Accompanied by the sun

go down the mountain

The light through the branches

Aries becomes grassland.

A galloping red-maned horse.

Draw a line in the sky

The red light sparkles

The wind is an eagle on the grassland.

The air is full of passion.

Shenlinli

Tired birds flitted across the sky from the treetops.

Wave your wings.

Go home at sunset

Tianyeshang

The shepherd boy by the stream

Playing the shepherd's flute

An old cow is lying on the grass

Sing to the rhythm

farm

The cricket honked his horn.

Break into on the ridge

Villages on the mountainside

Smoke billowed from the roof.

Gone With The Wind

The old jujube tree at the head of the village

Like an elderly village head.

Waving a shriveled hand

Schoolchildren waiting to go home

Calling in the wind

The old farmer in the field raised his head.

Darongshuxia

Candles twinkled in the thatched cottage.

The old farmer put down his hoe.

Take out the long stemmed Chinese pipe

Spit on white paper

Rolled a cigarette and lit it.

The old woman often looks around in front of the house.

The wife lit the candle.

That's the direction of home

Hometown modern poetry 15 has an innate emotion.

The wind has turned into a fleeting time, and it still takes root in my heart.

No matter where I go.

There are always affectionate songs to sing.

Back to my hometown

Back to my hometown

I don't know if you have heard.

I hurried back.

The young man who has been married for many years is getting old.

Still looking for the initial shyness in yesterday's memory.

Once the heartbeat

There are also faint sorrows of the years.

I can't help looking back.

Suddenly, I only saw the thin shadow on the edge of the sunset.

Nobody knows.

Ignorant thoughts written in the green season

at once

Grass is already very sad.

This season is the interpretation of withering and maturing.

It's just hard not to talk.

The footprints of my hometown have always been people coming and going.

So life is particularly rich and beautiful.

listen to

Here comes the familiar local accent.

The bluebird took away years of melancholy.

A calm smile floated up.

Into your thick arms

Regardless of sorrow, joy, bitterness and joy