If I become a golden flower.
It grows on a tall branch for fun.
Swinging in the air with a grin and dancing on the new leaves.
Will you know me? If you call my name.
Even if you whisper "Where are you?"
I will land as fast as I can.
Appear in front of you in a lovely posture.
Tell me a pathetic story.
"Hey, why are you here?"
"I won't tell you." I won't tell you that I have been here.
2. Rewriting Modern Poetry 2
If I become a breeze, I will alternate among the four seasons for shelter.
Gently watching the green wicker blowing, mixed in the dancing moss, silent.
Son, can you feel it? If you secretly shed tears that night.
Whispering my name, I can only wipe it carefully, hoping to dry my tears.
I want to blow away the wild flowers flying in the fields in spring.
Let the fragrance embellish your elegant skirt.
I remember that it was a dress I made for you that year, and I can't embroider petals.
When you walk through the midsummer, I will encourage those leaves and send you a cool period.
It was a busy night, and my little face was sweating under the light.
I don't have time to fan you. I hope the coolness can make up for it
When you see the golden autumn, I will pick a maple leaf.
Flaming colors are dotted with delicate veins. I hope you can pick up that fallen leaf.
That's a bookmark I carefully selected for you and put it in that old diary.
I know your silence, write down your sadness, but tell me your happiness.
I think, I want to share that loneliness when you sigh for winter.
Maybe I can't give it any more.
That cold wind, I want to take it away quietly.
Even if loneliness and loneliness are intertwined, it is better than cold.
If you call my name, mom, where are you?
It's time to leave. Even the breeze of the four seasons can only be silently guarded.
I can't take up any time. I want to become a breeze, quietly, accompany you through the four seasons,
Walk through the future that has never been reached, even if the past is like the wind.
3. Rewrite modern poetry 3
If I become an oasis, I will hide in the vast desert for fun.
Secretly reflecting the sky overhead, it exudes a sweet fragrance and tempts travelers.
Mom, will you know me? If you yell, "Where are you, son?" ?
I snickered there, but didn't say a word.
I will quietly open my arms and feed your camel.
Thirsty, the sun makes you sweat and walk through the Woods in the oasis.
Go to the quiet pool, and you will smell the sweetness of water vapor.
But I didn't know the smell came from me when you drank manna.
Look at your camel grazing under the tree, when the shadow of the young tree falls on you.
Your reflection also falls in my pool, clearly showing your beautiful image.
But can you guess that I am holding your shadow? ?
When you drive the camel back to the tribe at dusk, I will suddenly return to earth.
To be your child again, please tell me a story.
"Where have you been, you bad boy?" ?
"I won't tell you, mom." That's what I wanted to say most at that time.