I am interested in every seedling.
It is a casual attitude.
We often work until dark.
The sun is at dusk.
Tired of sleeping in a cloud bed.
A basin of ink polluted the sky.
We can still vaguely distinguish things in the dark.
In the end, I had to leave this land.
Along familiar paths all year round.
go home
Leaving only barren land
Bored in the dark
This has been the case for generations.
Nourish our lives
Hungry fruit
In fact, my heart is long gone.
It's everywhere
I'm creating a new life.
New way of life
My hope
Born in this land
fresh flower
My land poems 2 affectionate land
In spring
You gave the flowers beauty.
in autumn
You gave me good memories.
Spring flowers and autumn fruits-literary talent and moral integrity
This is your eternal love.
You put the world
Dressed up so beautifully
land
Affectionate land
You love the hard work of the tiller.
You cherish the sweat of the pioneers.
You will put the joy of harvest
To Schiller's people.
You will make mellow wine.
Share your beautiful melody
land
Good land
You are a great mother.
selfless dedication
Raise their children.
silent
Give your life energy.
land
You are very big.
broad-minded
Your intention is to tolerate everything.
My Land Poetry 3 This is an ordinary land.
Farming here for generations.
When we accept it,
The fragrant soil remains the same.
This used to be a wasteland.
Grandparents brought the seeds of hope.
Generations have multiplied to this day.
The residual rice fragrance lingers.
Later, corn began to spread.
We planted it beside the ridge of the field.
We tasted the sweetness of corn.
The smell is really unforgettable for us.
Some people began to abandon the monotonous rice.
Someone's field is full of corn.
Corn is more profitable than rice.
Many, many people abandoned rice.
Many, many people began to forget everything.
"Corn is what we should grow."
"This is our real wealth."
Beside the dragon, an elderly man.
Rubbing the stale soil in his hand, he said nothing.
No one knows that corn comes from far away.
Rice is our food.
They shout all day that this is our corn.
We must cultivate them well.
Rice, an old thing.
It shouldn't exist at all now
My land poem 4 "Brick kiln" chimney stands impressively.
Proud of the earth.
Smoke billowed day and night.
Paint the blue of the sky dark gray at will.
Father bent his back like a bow.
Hands shaking like dead branches.
Stroking rows of adobe to be burned.
He tears
Ah! This used to be my land!
How many storms have we gone through together over the years?
How much hope is soaked in the four seasons?
Yesterday's hunger is not far off.
The taste of leaves to satisfy hunger has not been forgotten.
The scar on the chest tore a truth-
Life is inseparable from the land!
A land full of bitterness and expectation.
A land full of happiness and love.
Land defended with blood and life
The foundation for generations to live on.
The demon's kiln door is wide open because of greed.
The boss's pockets are full of selfish desires.
The land under our feet is decreasing day by day.
Father's heart oozed bright red blood.
The flames in the kiln were blazing.
Thick smoke engulfed his father's body.
He saw grandpa's sad eyes in the firelight.
In the thick smoke, he heard his ancestors sigh.
Ah! My land!
A wonderful serenade came from a distant city.
The hotel lights were on all night.
Mahjong rattles in fat hands.
Money piled up in laughter.
The kiln head holds red wine in his hand.
The leader snuggled up to a beautiful woman as beautiful as flowers and pure as jade.