Modern poems in spring include: A drizzle on a spring night, You are an April day on earth, Spring reminds me, Spring Dance and April.
1.
drizzle on a spring night by modern Liu Zuci.
you are getting up like a cat, very quiet.
it's not in the daytime, but in this colorful night.
You have come to my window, so let your footsteps be light.
I can hear it, as long as it's yours.
You lifted my curtains with the fingers of the breeze, and bounced me three or two drops of water.
to you, to you.
I turned a blind eye, and you finally cried.
I regret making you sad, on this happy spring night.
you, why?
why is it like a feather that always stirs my restless mood?
2.
You are an April day on earth by Lin Huiyin.
I said you were an April day on earth, and your laughter lit up the wind all around.
Light spirits are dancing in the splendor of spring, and you are the clouds in the early April sky.
at dusk, the wind is soft, and the planetesimals flicker unintentionally.
it's light when the drizzle is sprinkled in front of the flowers.
so graceful, you are.
you wear the crown of fresh flowers.
you are naive and solemn, and you are the full moon every night.
after the snow melts, you look like the goose yellow.
the green of fresh budding, you are.
tender and happy, the water is floating with the white lotus in your dream.
You are the flower of a tree, and the swallow is whispering among the beams.
you are love, not warmth.
It's hope. You are the April day on earth.
3. Spring reminds me
Author: Yu Guangzhong.
in spring, I think of Jiangnan.
Jiangnan in Tang poetry picked mulberry leaves in it at the age of nine.
catch dragonflies in it, Jiangnan.
south of komori, south of Su Xiaoxiao.
I think of the lake with many lotus and many ling.
A crab-rich lake, a lake-rich south of the Yangtze River.
The King of Wu and the King of Yue escaped from Xi Shi.
Fan Li is missing, missing in the south of the Yangtze River where the wine flags are flying.
4. Dance of Spring
Author: Duo Duo.
The snow shovel leveled the forehead in winter, and I heard your loud voice.
I heard the sound of dripping water, and I felt a thrill of melting snow.
The sun's rays are like molten steel poured into the field from the furnace, and its rays come from the direction where the giant bird spreads its wings.
Python, break the body on the pebble pile.
The window frame is burning like the voice of an alcoholic soldier.
I heard the noise of the sea on the tin roof.
ah, silence.
I'm forgetting your snow-white roof, from a gust of snow.
I once got a pain when the field strongly affirmed love.
I turned away the cry of spring and was drowned in the huge flow of chestnuts rolling downhill.
I'm afraid of my heart. I'm shouting.
I'm afraid my heart will be happy.
and become useless.
5. April
Author: North Island.
The style of April remains the same: flowers with frost and lyrical wings.
foam eyes on the waves saw a pair of scissors.
hiding in the pocket of that storm, my feet are cold.
In the field, the sun-tanned tiger skin stops.
while my head meditates between lightning in summer, my ears are deaf in winter.
look around, stars.
Those little fists are assembled with a huge parade.