Foreign poems about iris

1. Poems about iris

Light Iris Text / The blue of October is light, and an iris blooms. Gently, exuding fresh fragrance. In the colorful summer, you smiled, not the charming sneer of the roses beside you, nor the generous beauty of the peonies. Your smile is bright and simple, like the sunny smile of a child in June. In harmony, the love for summer and the expectation for summer. However, in this season of pink and plum blossoms, only the shadow of a butterfly cares about the flowers and grass around you, but it does not pick up the mellow honey in you; the soft moonlight caresses the petals of the flowers beside you, but it only touches you. Left alone in the lonely night. On a cold and desolate morning, the round dewdrops, with a hint of weariness, dripped on your petite petals, turning into crystal and lonely tears. Iris, you also long for your own butterfly and the moon that touches your flowers. However, on that morning of tears, the cool breeze brought the desolate autumn, and the flowers fell, but I couldn't bear to see you withered, withered, and painfully buried in the autumn soil. If I were a butterfly, I would cruelly pluck you off and protect your bright smile forever; if I were the moon, I would burn you decisively and take away your pure fragrance, together with that lonely love, deeply Seal it and spread it in the everlasting soft moonlight. Perhaps this is an eternal, selfish fantasy of mine.

Irises

1 In the night, in the wind, on the edge of the rain,

I found five iris flowers, and I called them lovely.

Like a woman who once lay beside them

then woke up, got up, and walked away, her hair lingering on their sweet tongues

memory.

I really want to rip these petals off with my teeth.

I really want to study these hairy selves,

their beauty and indifference. They

have been holding their breath for a lifetime

open, open.

2

We are not lovers, brothers or sisters,

Though we wander hand in hand through the halls

Trembling as thoughts and desires

Extinguish, and in this dream of life,

In this sleep life, we die awake-

Purple turns to blue, turns

p>

Black, black - all this

is what an iris prays for,

When she prays, her destination.

2. Poems describing iris flowers

Not necessarily iris flowers, they only grow towards Shicheng.

Sincerely, the king’s eyes have feelings for everything he sees.

How I wished I could meet you

But I couldn’t

On such a desolate and silent sandbank

When the weather turns sunny< /p>

When the wind turns colder

All thoughts and movements gradually become slow

What kind of dusk will it be

And now Iris flowers are still blooming randomly

Here and there they are growing everywhere

Bravely showing her passion and her little heart to the world around her

>

From pure white to blue and purple

It seems to be telling the story that I have longed for all my life

Please let the soul of the flower die before it leaves the branch

Let me stay temporarily

The transition of time from love to violence

The difference between such transitions is extremely subtle

It is also extremely sharp

Especially me once

How I wished I could meet you 3. Poems about Iris

Iris (Xi Murong)

Iris Flower

-----Please remain silent and never answer me again

I must eventually leave this soft and clear spring day with a slightly moist wind

The surrounding light is meticulous and painstakingly

presenting the world of all life processes

Even the smallest joy strives to expand

Prolong the peaceful happiness that you are savoring

as long as possible

The enigmatic distance from the starting point to the end point

is still unmeasurable

(This boundless loneliness, this necessary burden)

All the memories are not far away from me

Just when we walked together, the moss marks reflected in the silent forest

But there is an uncertain feeling. Even if

I find the appropriate words, I can no longer control it.

In the end, I am to you

p>

Just like the deep purple iris in this spring

They will still betray each other in the end

(And now this extremely beautiful time will finally end) < /p>

Reference material: Xi Murong's Poetry Collection 4. Poems about iris

A touch of iris / October's blue is light, and an iris blooms.

Gently, exuding a fresh fragrance. In the colorful summer, you smiled, not with the charming sneer of the roses beside you, nor with the generous beauty of the peonies.

Your smile is bright and simple, like the sunny smile of a child in June. In harmony, the love for summer and the expectation for summer.

However, in this season of pink and plum blossoms, only the shadow of a butterfly looks at the flowers and grass around you, but it does not pick up the mellow honey on your body; the soft moonlight caresses the petals beside you. A flower with petals leaves you alone in the lonely night. On a cold and desolate morning, the round dewdrops, with a hint of weariness, dripped on your petite petals, turning into crystal and lonely tears.

Iris, you also long for your own butterfly and the moon that touches your flowers. However, on that morning of tears, the cool breeze brought the desolate autumn, and the flowers fell, but I couldn't bear to see you withered, withered, and painfully buried in the autumn soil.

If I were a butterfly, I would ruthlessly pluck you off and protect your bright smile forever; if I were the moon, I would decisively burn you and take away your pure fragrance, along with That lonely love is sealed deeply and spreads throughout the everlasting soft moonlight. Perhaps this is an eternal, selfish fantasy of mine.

Iris 1 At night, in the wind, on the edge of the rain, I found five iris flowers, and I called them lovely. Like the memory of a woman who, for a time, lay beside them for a while and then woke up, got up, and walked away, her hair lingering on their sweet tongues.

I really want to rip these petals off with my teeth. I really want to study these hairy selves, their beauty and indifference.

They have been holding their breath for a lifetime and open up. 2 We are not lovers, brothers or sisters, though we wander hand in hand through the halls trembling and stirring when thoughts and desires are extinguished, and in this dream of life, in this life of sleep, we die awake - purple turns to blue, turns to black , black - all this is what an iris prays for, when she prays for the destination. 5. Sentences describing the blooming of iris flowers

The iris flowers are large and graceful, very similar to lilies. But lilies have six petals, but people don't know that iris has only three petals, and the remaining three outer petals are sepals that protect the buds. It's just that the three petal-shaped sepals are so similar to flower petals that they are often confused with the real ones, making it difficult to identify them. Because Europeans often call iris "lily", many people think that France's national flower is lily.

Although they understand this, they have become accustomed to it and cannot change their ways.

, Hey! The flower buds that were still green yesterday turned red overnight, and the buds grew rapidly, which made me feel happy. ah! The half-purple and half-green bud has opened! They open about the size of a water bottle cap. There is a small bunch of light yellow stamens in the center of the flower, which is very beautiful. Like a beautiful butterfly, when a breeze blows, the butterfly dances gracefully.