George Gordon! byron
Say goodbye to the past,
Tears flow silently;
From hating the liver and heartbreaking,
It's been several years.
How sad the cold face and cheeks are,
A kiss adds to the cold;
Sad things in the future,
This moment has been predicted.
The cold dew is heavy,
Leng Mei-
At that time, someone announced:
Sadness is today.
Is Mengshan safe now?
How contemptible your name is!
I've heard about your reputation,
Shame on people.
I heard that you have a bad reputation,
Like listening to the death knell.
I can't help feeling anxious-
The past is too strong.
Who knows the old days,
I know too much.
Long and painful,
Needless to say,
I used to like trysts,
I hate silence today.
You've forgotten how you felt in the past,
Illness meets misfortune.
After years of separation,
Or meet again,
What do you mean by meeting?
Tears flow silently.
original text
When we broke up,
In silence and tears,
Half-heartbroken
Cut off for many years,
Your cheeks turn pale and cold,
Your kiss is colder;
That moment really predicted
That's the end of sorrow.
Morning dew
The chill on my forehead-
It feels like a warning
How I feel now.
Your vows have been broken,
Your reputation alone;
I heard your name mentioned,
Share its shame.
They mentioned you in front of me,
The death knell that rings for me;
I shuddered-
Why are you so cute?
They don't know I know you,
Who knows you too well?
I will regret for you for a long, long time,
It's too deep to say.
We met in secret-
I am sad in silence,
Your heart will forget,
Your soul is cheating.
If I meet you,
After a long time,
How should I greet you? -
With silence and tears.
Ye Zhi's poem When You Are Old.
When you are old, white and sleepy.
Take a nap by the fire, please write a poem.
Recall your gentle eyes.
A few shadows in the corner of my eye are thick and light.
How many people loved you when you were young and beautiful?
True and false love can only be tempted by your beauty.
Only one person deeply loves the sanctity of your soul.
I also love the painful wrinkles on your aging face.
Looking back at the red-hot stove
Tell sadly how love slipped away.
How to get to the mountain above?
Then hide your face among the stars.
original text
When you are old, gray-haired and sleepy,
Take a nap by the fire, take down this book,
Read slowly, imagine the gentle eyes,
Your eyes were once, and their shadows were deep.
How many people love your happy and elegant moments,
Loving your beauty with true or false love,
But there is one person who loves your pilgrim soul,
Love the ever-changing sadness on your face.
Bend down by the glowing fireplace,
Whispering a little sadly, how love dies,
Pacing on the mountains overhead,
Hide his face among the stars.
Who is the south of France?
Modern free verse
Who-led the ignorant us into the spacious classroom,
Teach us a wealth of knowledge?
It is you! Teacher!
With your hard work and sweat,
Raising the tender seedlings that have just broken ground in spring.
Who is it?-naughty us.
Educate people to be considerate and helpful?
It is you! Teacher!
Your care is like a warm spring breeze.
It warms our hearts.
Who is it-young us?
Cultivate a mature and sensible teenager?
It is you! Teacher!
Your protection makes us grow up healthily.
The autumn season is fruitful.
You have worked hard! Teacher!
People who work hard in the heat and cold.
You have worked hard! Teacher!
Dedicate youth to nothingness.
We pay high tribute to you!
-You have worked hard, teacher!
That's all I can do, teacher.
Teacher-you are like a drizzle in spring,
Moisten flowers, irrigate the earth,
We are sucking the drizzle and growing.
Teacher-you are like the autumn breeze,
Blow the yellow land, call gold to rice,
We had a bumper harvest.
Teacher-in my dark life, you lit the brightest lamp for me;
Teacher-you are the guide on my misty life;
Teacher-you pointed out the direction for me in my rough life;
Teacher-you gave me a pair of powerful wings, let me travel in the world of knowledge!
Hometown [narrative poem]
Are you the white clouds that floated that day? Are you the roaring autumn wind? Traveling all over the world, the most unforgettable thing is the muddy mountain road in my hometown.
Ah, hometown. I saw the muddy past under the cypress forest again. I relive you. It is not the willow flute blowing on the back of the shepherd boy cow in the drizzle, nor the elegant artistic conception of fishing boats singing late.
I was born in that tragic era. I am destined to be with grass all my life, and a crack in the rock is an opportunity of life. On that stormy night, my father left with the heavy desolation of the mountain village and the deep sigh of the old buffalo. Mother was fixed on the screen of history by the storm of the times and swayed into an old neem tree at the entrance of the village. I am a fragile little cypress beside the tree.
The lonely hut accompanied my mother and my hard life. A kerosene lamp and a half bowl of corn porridge are very satisfying. My mother used hope instead of hunger to fill my growth and grow into a pair of strong feet, which are firm and powerful despite the wind and waves. You know, my stubbornness today is refined from previous lives. I am no longer that fragile little cypress tree.
I am a lonely goose soaring in the sky, and I am proud of the turbulent storm on the boundless sea. Between reality and meditation, I decorate my fragile wings with persistence. I worked hard. For my father's dying wish, I trudged at the peak of my destiny. Now, you are old, and the cypress trees around you have grown up, leaving you with your lost youth and half a bowl of corn porridge saved by lovelorn. .........
oh Am I your key? I left you. I am afraid that my stormy waves will crush your heavy back. I'm afraid the poor spine will give you too much and too heavy a load. I went to the other side of the mountain and planted acacia trees there with my thoughts of you. I want to cry silently, a song & gt It stings my bitter throat and decorates every foreign dream.
lyrics
Say goodbye to Cambridge again
Xu zhimo
I left quietly, 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!
The pool under the shade of the elm tree is not a clear spring.
It is the rainbow in the sky that is crushed in the floating seaweed, precipitating a rainbow-like dream.
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 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.