The morning sun is like fire here, and the willows are as thin as a shuttle here.
Prosperity is a song,
Flowing inadvertently,
Inadvertently,
Drop into the corner of the heart lake.
If so,
I hope,
There is an old fisherman there.
White-haired, energetic,
He doesn't wait without a hook like Jiang Zi,
It is not as cold and snowy as Hedong.
He's just in a canoe,
Sing a fishing song or two,
Looking back slowly in the years, telling in leisure.
If so,
I hope,
There's a woman by the lake,
Years mottled her face,
Time is full of calluses on her hands,
Maybe she doesn't look like a country,
Holding a pot of old wine, under the withered vines of the ancient road,
Look at her picking lotus flowers,
Not graceful, graceful.
So, I went to find it,
In the crowded sea of people in Zaixi, in the silent Yamashita,
Under the decadent ancient city wall, on the boundless grassland.
One day, I found it,
Or as comfortable as an old man,
Or as dignified and beautiful as a lotus girl.
The lake in my heart reached its acme,
Birds are singing everywhere, flowers are red and green.
Modern Poetry of Heart Lake 2 Who Let the East Wind Wake Spring and Green Horse,
Hong Fei is back,
On the same road.
Walking on the Suzhou River on a bamboo raft,
The white clouds are in that direction,
The fish shook the calm waterline,
Wild ducks flapped their wings in the seaweed.
When the horse is released, who lives in the old house, facing Nanshan,
Bouncing stone roads, cliff springs, rushing!
Ears; The bells of Buddhist temples are long and the sounds of nature are long.
Old bamboo house, listening to thunder, rain and the whispers of small bamboo shoots,
Cuckoo in mangrove forest, cuckoo
Singing;
Whoever is the happiest will tell everyone,
Dig a piece of land in the vacant lot of the old house,
Planting flowers and firewood for the four seasons,
Plant a vine with a fence, a moon and a fish-belly white sun.
A glass of wine, a poem, and the stone table phonograph in Xiangzhou!
Wearing a broken hat, he took a keen interest in a lake.
Solidification; "Alocasia flowers show red lips shyly,
A red fish leaped with its big mouth open, and its tentacles trembled.
The little bee buzzed and hesitated. "
Catch a star in the clear waves,
Arouse half a sunset glow,
There are golden ripples on the water!
Heart Lake Modern Poetry 3 is busy fishing on the river of life,
The wind on the water brushed my face,
This is a strong wind of 25 degrees Celsius.
With a faint fishy smell,
Blowing into the heart lake and causing ripples,
Thought is like a broken kite,
Wandering freely in the wilderness of the mind …
The boat of life flows through the torrent valley of youth,
Come to the open and gentle land,
The river became calm and clear.
The water of time flows quietly,
Took it away without a trace.
The ship docked,
The waves became an irrelevant background.
Looking up at the blue sky quietly,
Enjoy the fresh air,
In the direction of the breeze,
Listen to the wind whispering,
Listen to the sound of grass growing and flowers blooming.
True love is like a sunflower blooming on the shore.
Give an innocent smile,
Stupid and pathetic ...
In the silent moonlight on the shore,
Walk with your heart,
Inadvertently out of sadness,
Sneak into memories,
Find yourself with joy.
Let thoughts fly in the past years,
Only missing crosses the mountain,
Follow you to the ends of the earth ......
There is a kind of youth in the modern poems of Xinhu.
Not young, not high-spirited
It's just that in the past years
Strong deposition.
When years turn into songs, faith is put into action.
The firm steps across the vicissitudes of the forehead.
Towards the magnificence of life.
There is a meeting.
Not meeting, not holding hands.
Just for a quiet night.
Mixed with warm ocean currents.
When loneliness strikes, the cold night is deep.
The heart of mutual comfort has touched the gentle spring breeze.
Be embedded in a distant dream
have a dream
It doesn't need to come true, it doesn't need to hug.
As long as the heart curtain
Hang a clear spring stream
The world is full of dust and the autumn moon is frosty and cold.
Let the grinding wheel of years polish fresh amber.
Gentle and dreamy piano
There is a kind of loneliness.
Not cowardice, not self-styled
In this complicated world.
Plant a proud pine tree.
When frost and snow are everywhere, the night is eternal.
Pine trees and pine trees are dancing vigorously, carrying white clouds that pass wildly.
Stand upright in the vast sky
There is a language
No need to be gorgeous, no need to carve.
Only in nature
Invisible tension of flow
When the breeze is swaying slowly.
The sinking breath surrounds the highland of thought.
Gave birth to countless fruits
There is a kind of mind
Do not seek talent, do not seek wealth.
In the sky of life
Have a free trip to the clouds.
When the world of mortals wants nothing, Yue Hui is quiet.
The clever note struck a chord.
Weave a beautiful and elegant brocade.