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 Cambridge, I would like to be a water 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? Holding a long Artemisia, wandering back to a greener place, loading a boat with glory and singing in the glory. 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.
Under the moon, the cuckoo doesn't come to see the shadow of the static bridge, counting the ripples of mother-of-pearl, and I lean against the stone fence moss, which cools my heart; Moon, you dropped out of school, the bride was ashamed, and your brocade was covered. You lived here last night. Can she allow you to come tonight? Listening to the bell of the village temple tower in the distance, like a light wave in a dream, I am worried about the ebb and flow of the tide, and I am drifting vaguely with a stumbling boat! The water is sparkling, the night is deep and my thoughts are long. Where is my dear friend? The wind is blowing, the willows are trembling, and the money is fighting, which reminds people of the sound of hurting spring. Friends in early spring, dispel your worries, dry your tears and smile at the sun. This is spring. Although the flood of flowers has not washed away the shackles of winter, Zui Xiang is flooding the plains. Although there are no birds singing and waterfalls splashing in the ravine, thousands of silver beads are scattered in the misty morning light and rolling on the avenue at dusk, but wait. Once the dark clouds start to thunder, you will run away in a hurry. Is the most beautiful dream. Maybe when you came here gloriously overnight, it was still freezing cold. If you listen to the five old peaks, the wind is still whistling in the valley. It seems to be wailing together, but there are already a few little cuckoos that make the world warm, and even the clouds are no longer floating. Suppose spring is a friend.
2. Modern Poetry 1 Description of Scenery, Autumn Night on the River
Liu Dabai (China)
The homing bird, although hooked, still brings the sunset back.
Flap your wings and set the sunset on the river;
Reed with white heads has also been made into beautiful moments.
2. "Facing the sea, spring blossoms"
Haizi (China)
From tomorrow on, be a happy person; Feed horses, chop wood and travel around the world.
Starting from tomorrow, care about food and vegetables; I have a house facing the sea, full of spring flowers; Starting from tomorrow, correspond with every relative; Tell them my happiness.
That happy lightning told me; I will tell everyone; Give every river and mountain a warm name; Stranger, I also bless you;
May your future be bright; May you have a lover, and all shall be well. May you be happy on earth; I just want to face the sea and spring blossoms.
3. Autumn Moon
Xu Zhimo (China)
It's also the moonlight shining tonight, because we are all looking up.
Look at it, full of charm, rising from the clouds, as black as a mob-
It looks extraordinarily bright and round. It spreads out on the road, it floats on the water, and it dips in the bottom like sad weeds;
It is on the eaves of the ancient city, and thousands of city bricks are in its glory.
4. "Cool autumn moistens the scenery this morning."
Shejiang Hongfan (China)
Autumn has come, with harvest and joy;
You are gone, your eyes are moist and sad;
Take away the autumn wind and the desolation of your brow;
Lost in the garden, a touch of vigorous green, you follow the last lamp;
Near dawn, autumn is crisp, and the scenery this morning is wet.
5. "Wind is an unnecessary landscape"
Author: July. Sunspot (China)
I looked down at the past time and found some peace in a locked drawer.
Sometimes, I am used to holding my head high, whether I look at the clouds in the sky or the distant scenery.
One day, my father asked me to find my childhood among a group of ants, where there were some footprints I lost. I suddenly lost the courage to look up.
I don't look up anymore. Of course, I will still quietly look at some refracted reflections on the calm lake.
3. The first modern poem 1 describing the scenery suddenly wants to wander.
Leave this place
Look at a different sky.
The heart can't wait to fly
Haven't been to the desert yet
But I have already felt its desolation.
The howling wind blows and blows.
There are winding vicissitudes on the sand dunes.
Haven't been to the seaside yet.
But I have fallen in love with its infinity.
In the deepest place
I just want to drift with the waves.
wandering
Don't you miss your hometown any more
Freedom is a beautiful loneliness.
Like the moon hanging in the sky.
The second spring is a beautiful scenery.
People, as the seasons change,
Finally, I took off my thick winter coat.
Put it on and smile like a flower.
Looking at the crowd quietly with the wind,
Connect my reverie,
Also brought my idea:
In winter without snow,
Broken love has gone away from me.
Once vowed to each other, without a trace.
Isn't it?
That sentence: it doesn't snow in winter without love.
Put the burnt cigarette butts, together with the broken fake clothes,
Throw it away together.
Stand up and say to yourself loudly:
Note that spring is also a beautiful scenery.
4. A modern poem about landscape writing 1 Farewell to Cambridge and leave me gently, just as I have been here 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. You stand on the bridge and watch the scenery. People who look at the scenery look at you on the bridge. The bright moon decorated your window. You decorated other people's dreams. The afternoon sun lit up the dark atrium. The flame of happiness spread to the green corridor. The fragrant language and fragrance shocked the melancholy and budding hope. Singing in the warm branches, holding comfortable notes, reading the lonely direction, operating the winter fantasy. Created a sea of love, but also intoxicated by the wind in the north, washed away the sorrow of the world of mortals. After drinking a handful of blue seawater and drawing a cup of green spring scenery, let me stir up the double pulp of poetry, weave a dream with my heart, let me compose a movement in the waves, ignite a dim heart, and the happy flame spread to the green corridor. Fragrant language and fragrance shook the earth, and melancholy and budding hope sang in the passionate branches. Grasp the comfortable notes, understand the lonely trend, understand the thoughts of winter, conjure up the ocean of love, revel in the wind in the north, and wash away the sadness of the world of mortals. Drink a glass of blue sea water, draw a picture with strokes, let me weave a dream with my heart, and let me compose a movement in the waves. Pushkin (Russia 1799- 1837) charming friend, but you are sleeping.
It's time, beauty, wake up! Open your sleepy eyes closed by happiness. Please come out, as the morning star in the north, and meet the morning glow goddess in the north! Last night, do you still remember that there was heavy snow and the sinister sky was shrouded in darkness.
The yellow moon behind the dark clouds is like a pale spot in the night sky. You sat there bored, but now ... Oh, please look out the window: under the blue sky, it unfolds like a tapestry on Yuan Ye.
Large tracts of snow are shining with sunshine, and only transparent Woods are darkening. The branches of fir trees glow green in the frost: the frozen river is bright.
The whole room was illuminated by amber. The newly lit fire crackled pleasantly.
It's really beautiful to lie in bed and daydream at this time. However, should you ask someone to put the brown horse on the sled as soon as possible? Dear friends, riding lightly all the way lets us slide through the early morning snow.
Let the fierce horses run, and let's visit the open fields. The forest, the river bank, which grew not long ago, is so kind to me.
2 Thick plum tree (Su 1895—— 1925) The thick plum tree blooms with the arrival of spring, and its golden branches grow like curly hair. Sweet dew, dripping along the bark; Leave a spicy green mark, shiny silver.
Satin-like spikes sparkle under the dew, like bright earrings, worn on the ears of beautiful girls. Where the residual snow melts, on the grass near the roots, a silver stream flows happily all the way.
The thick plum trees spread their branches, emitting charming fragrance, golden green traces and reflecting the sun. The stream raised the waves of broken jade, splashed on the thick plum branches, bounced the strings under the cliff and sang for her affectionately.
3 Tree frost by the window (US 1874- 1963) The tree by my window, the tree by the window, I close the window when night falls; But never close the curtains, lest you and I be separated. You are a hazy dream shadow rising on the ground. You are as erratic as a floating cloud. Everything you preach loudly with your light tongue is not profound.
But tree, I saw the wind shaking you. If you catch a glimpse of me sleeping in this room, you will see that I was violently stirred and almost swept by the storm.
On that day, fate was a child's play, which linked us together: you were influenced by the external climate and I was stimulated by the internal wind and rain.
5. Modern Landscape Poetry 1: Autumn Night on the River
Birds return to their nests,
Embarrassed as it is,
And come back with the sunset.
Flap your wings,
Throw the sunset on the river;
White-headed reed,
And dressed up as a beautiful woman.
Poetry 2: Spring Dream
I like ...
Put your dreams in spring
It's called spring dream.
I tried to dream about you.
But always in vain.
I like to turn my pillow upside down when I wake up.
I heard that this will make your dream come true.
In this dreamy spring.
What I toss and turn is
South of Guzhen
Poetry 3: the effect in the small forest of the city
Green again, my grove.
Ants and flying insects in the Woods
These humble lives come with spring.
Under the soil, I heard the sound of earthworm crawling.
Knock down the mud-sealed door with a soft head
I saw a flock of goats on the grass in the grove.
Waving his long beard and bleating.
Shook my youth and soul.
A black goat came to me leisurely.
Tears of happiness hung on his face.
Poetry 4: Sunset in Qiu Jiang
Xishan left a mouth.
Birds come back together.
Two veins of autumn water, falling light
The boat drew in the net and took the fish home.
Wind-driven reed flying
When you sigh, you are tired.
Always hate the reminder of the years.
Relax and sing a song.
Sadness and happiness fall into your hands.
My heart is chasing the sunset glow.
Poetry 5: Pushing Open the Door of Spring
I hear birds chirping.
In the city, there are several spring birds.
They are afraid to go into town.
Just cheering and jumping outside the classroom.
They are as simple as farmers in the countryside.
Let me sprout a sense of closeness.
They are my friends.
Like a relative I met by chance.
They are looking for unknown bugs.
Make a friendly voice to one's companion
After school, I fell in love with birdsong.
In the debate about birds,
I pushed open the door of spring.
Poetry 6: Lucky Bamboo
Silence in a tall glass bottle
Before the new leaves are pulled out
The old one has long since dropped.
What's left is
Part of it turns white, yellow and dark green.
What a barren green branch
How about that?
To grow very vigorously.
Curled up at the bottom of the vase
Carrying all life.
The rustling of leaves in the wind.
What is it saying?
It brought me nothing.
Why is it called lucky bamboo?
This is just a comfort in my heart.
Poetry 7: Wind
It was the wind that intoxicated me that night,
Look at the stars on the horizon,
There is a quiet river under the light.
It flows away alone,
It goes through the forest,
It, through the silence,
It, through the noise,
It, through love.
This flows quietly into the distance.
The early morning breeze is cool and fresh, and there is the joy of rebirth.
Poetry 8: This spring
My heart is at sixes and sevens this spring.
Think for a moment about some tombstones.
Think of my childhood for a while.
My heart is at sixes and sevens this spring.
Poetry in spring is written in spring.
My poems are the leaves of grass and crowns in spring.
This spring,
What else can I do?
Who else can I embrace spring and time with?
6. Modern Poems Describing Natural Scenery Modern Poems Describing Natural Scenery 1, Green Author: Ai Qing seems to turn the green ink bottle upside down, and there is green everywhere. Where can I find this 7a68696416fe59ee7ad9431333431? The blowing wind is green, the rain is green, the flowing water is green and the sunshine is green; All the greens are concentrated, crowded, overlapping and crossing quietly.
Suddenly there was a gust of wind, as if the dance teacher were in command, and all the greens fluttered together neatly and in accordance with the beat. 2, landscape Author: apricot flowers and peach blossoms Some people say that work and life are too tired, let the mind take a vacation, come to a trip that says go away, travel far, climb mountains and play with water, kiss the fish's mouth, enjoy the dew, get close to nature, look at the scenery and adjust your mood. I said it can only make your mind happy for a while. Go on a trip. Even if you go there all year round, you may not understand the meaning of life and the true meaning of happiness.
3, the voice of the country Author: Xu Zhimo boat in the shade of weeping willows, a cool breeze in early autumn, blowing the water, blowing the sound of the countryside on both sides. I am resting alone in the window of the boat, watching the waves and visions of a river and listening to the sounds far and near. I once had a tacit understanding with my childhood! This is the call of Crispy, the work on the farm is varied, and the dog crows by the bamboo fence: but this is a kind of meaningless sadness and sorrow! White clouds are flying in the blue sky: I want to put my annoying age, and I want to entrust my annoying love to boundless emptiness; Reply to my simple and beautiful childlike innocence: like a spoonful of cold spring in the valley, like a bald milk magpie in the breeze, like a grass flower in Chi Pan, natural and vivid.
4, early spring Author: Shu Ting friend, this is spring, dispel sadness, wipe away tears, smile at the sun, although there is no torrent of flowers, washed away the shackles of winter, with a drunken fragrance rushing, flooding in the plains and Shan Ye, although there is no bird waterfall, splashing thousands of silver beads, scattered in the misty morning light, rolling on the avenue of dusk, but waiting. There are still chills and first frost's troubles. Listen carefully, the upper hand of the Five Old Peaks is still whistling, and the trembling valleys seem to wail together, but there are already a few small cuckoos, such as the flame that can't be blown out, which makes the world warm and even the clouds no longer float. Friends, let's say that spring is beautiful and rich, because it has passed the last chill. 5, golden autumn Author: Xindi garden full of red fruit fragrance, farmers threshing floor high rice piles make smile full network, cold clothes warm the hearts of soldiers in the horizon. After sunset, pick up thin stone pieces and throw them into the water of reeds, no matter how deep there is or how shallow it is here. Look at a line of geese carrying golden autumn, listen, listen, listen, autumn.
Listen, the sound of autumn, crickets flapping their wings, is the rhyme to bid farewell to the balcony. Rows of geese catch up with the white clouds and scatter warm reminders; An autumn wind swept across the field, bringing a harvest song.
Listen, walk into autumn, walk into this vast concert hall, and you can hear the sound of autumn. The sound of autumn, in every leaf, in every flower, in every drop of water, in every unfolded grain.
Listen, the sound of autumn comes from a distance in a hurry, rushing to towards the distant. Listen, we hear Qiu's voice.
7. What are the modern poems describing the scenery? What are the waterscape tours of Sakura Snow Mountain (original)?
When the wind blows through the cherry tree,
The petals of cherry blossoms were blown away by the warm wind.
Blowing into the green lake,
The lake is sparkling,
Tell her romance.
When you look at Mount Fuji through the cherry tree,
Cherry trees and floating petals set off Mount Fuji beautifully.
Such a beautiful snow mountain seems to have turned into a beautiful woman.
Tell her romance.
I am a tourist,
Seeing such a beautiful scenery,
Trying to keep it in my mind forever,
If possible,
Want to take beauty away forever,
Don't let the beautiful scenery leave me.
This beauty is like a fairyland on earth,
Very attractive,
I want to be a waterbird in the pool,
Living by his side,
The scenery here knows that I am also romantic.
8. What are the top ten modern poems (about mountains and rivers) worth reading? In front of these works, I realized what it means to stay at the top of the mountain.
Whether you like poetry or not, as long as you speak Chinese as your mother tongue, these works are worth reading carefully. Any wonderful language will turn pale in front of these works, and I can only strongly recommend them: the first and tenth songs, Waiting for You in the Rain by Yu Guangzhong: Waiting for you, in the rain, in the rainbow-making rain, cicadas sink and fall, frogs raise a pool of red lotus like red flames, and it doesn't matter whether you come or not in the rain. I think every lotus is like you, especially through the dusk, through this drizzle forever, instantly, instantly. Outside of time, in time, waiting for you, in an instant, in eternity, if your hand is in my hand, at this moment, if your fragrance is in my nostrils, I will say, little lover, this hand should pick lotus flowers. In the martial arts palace, this hand should shake the cinnamon pulp. In the Mulan boat, there is a star hanging on the cornice of the science museum, like a Swiss watch. You came out of a love story. You have read a lot of comments about this poem from Jiang Baishi's words. What impressed me the most was a wonderful passage about the Science Museum and the Swiss Watch, saying that it was a combination of classical and modern. However, personally, the appearance of these two images may be the only failure of this poem. The combination of a suit and a melon hat makes people feel uncomfortable.
Second, the ninth song, Lin's "Laughter": Laughing is her eyes, lips, and the circular vortex of her lips. Brilliant as dew, the smiles are hidden in the flash of shellfish teeth.
That is laughter-God's smile, beautiful smile: the reflection of water, the light song of the wind. Laughing is her loose curly hair, scattered in the ear.
Soft as a flower shadow, itchy sweetness pours into your heart. That's a smile-a smile in a poem, a smile in a painting: traces of clouds, soft waves of waves.
It is said that Xu Zhimo began to write poems because he admired this talented woman. However, Lin finally chose Liang Sicheng, and later many people knew the name because of this allusion. I don't think a name that can write such a work needs to be recited by allusions.
Third, the eighth song, Fei Ming's "Star": The stars in the sky are said to be eternal spring flowers. There is a shadow of begonia flowers on the east wall, which is said to be the eternal autumn moon.
Waking up in the morning is a winter night dream. Last night, the stars in the middle of the night were as clean as a clear net, and so were the spring flowers and the autumn moon.
Feng Wenbing incorporated his beloved Lao Zi and Zhuang Zi into his poems, and his thoughts flowed everywhere in his works. Compared with him, those so-called philosophical poems are not in the same class at all.
Fourth, the seventh song, Bian's "Broken Chapter": You stand on the bridge and watch the scenery, and the people who watch the scenery look at you upstairs. The bright moon decorated your window, and you decorated other people's dreams.
This one is the most famous among all the works with the theme of broken chapters. But many authoritative critics' explanations are different from the author's own.
Fifth, the sixth song, Zheng Chouyu's "Wrong": I walked across the south of the Yangtze River, waiting for the emergence of the season, such as lotus flowers blooming in the east wind in the future, catkins not flying in March, your heart is like a small lonely city, like the silence of Qingshi Street at night, and the spring curtain in March did not reveal your heart. Dada's horseshoe covered me tightly, which was a beautiful mistake. I am not a returnee, but a passer-by ... Maybe this mistake is not just for the people in the window. Many of Zheng Chouyu's poems are worth reading, especially Mistress.
Sixth, the fifth song, Wen Yiduo's "Dead Water": This is a desperate stagnant water, and the breeze can't blow at all. Why not throw more rubbish and throw out the leftovers?
Maybe copper should be green to emerald, and a few petals of peach blossoms should be embroidered on the tin can; Let greasy weave a layer of Luo qi, and the mold will steam out some clouds for him. Let the stagnant water ferment into a ditch of green wine, full of pearl-like foam; The laughter of the little bead turned into a big bead, and it was bitten by the flower mosquito who stole the wine.
Then a ditch of desperate stagnant water can be praised as somewhat clear. If the frog can't stand loneliness, it is stagnant water calling for a song.
This is a backwater of despair, which is definitely not the beauty. Let Ugly take it back and see what world he has created. Only such a person can write such a work.
Seven, the fourth song, Feng Zhi's "Snake": My loneliness is a long snake, too cold to speak-girl, if you dream of it, don't be completely afraid! He is my faithful companion, and his heart is full of homesickness: he is thinking about the dense grassland and the thick black silk on your head. It is as light as moonlight, sneaking past you; Keep your dream for me, like a crimson flower.
Feng Zhi is called "the most outstanding lyric poet in China" by Lu Xun, and only he can write such works. His southern night was too good to say anything.
Eight, the third song, He Qifang's "Prediction": This heartbeat day has finally arrived. I can clearly hear your sighing footsteps at night. It's not the whisper of leaves and night wind in the forest, but the hoof sound of elk crossing the moss path.
Tell me, tell me with your bell, were you predicted by the young God? You must come from the warm south, tell me the moonlight and sunshine there, tell me how the spring breeze blows open the flowers and how the swallows are madly in love with Populus davidiana. I will sleep in your dreamlike singing with my eyes closed, and I seem to remember and forget.
Please stop, stop your tired running, come in, there is a tiger mattress for you to sit on, let me burn the fallen leaves I pick up every autumn and listen to me sing my own songs in a low voice. That song will be as gloomy and lofty as fire, and it will tell my life like fire.
Don't go forward, there is an endless forest ahead, and the ancient trees are dotted with the words of wild animals, intertwined like half-dead vines and pythons, and there is no shortage of stars in the dense leaves. Hearing the empty echo of the first step, you will be too timid to let go of the second step.
Do you have to go? Please wait for me to go with you. My feet know every safe way. I can continue to sing the songs I forgot, and then give them to you, and then give them the warmth of your hand. The darkness of night interrupts us, so you can look me in the eyes in the blink of an eye.
You didn't listen to my exciting songs, and your feet didn't stop for my trembling, like a quiet breeze floating through this evening.