Who sings clear words and gets drunk in the moonlight?
Who is unhappy?
Music, melodious
Whose flute echoes between your fingers?
Arouse whose desire
Grinding ink for the bottom
Outline your eyebrows.
Peach blossoms and green trees in the painting
Whose expectations are reflected?
The first cry of the nightingale
Who plays the flute?
A gentle acacia began.
Whose foreshadowing did you win?
Good night, charming
Dance with sadness
Yiren, drunk alone
Let the moonlight crush the tears between your eyes.
put pen to paper
Draw a picture of painters.
Discrete fireworks blur you and me.
Prosperity is gone forever, and cool thin is gone forever.
Night, loneliness
Breeze insects sang a few more songs.
A wisp of ice heart cannot be collected, causing anyone's pain.
Only, walking alone
Who's worried?
A spoony sigh failed to live up to life.
Modern night poems II. Half-barrel escalator building for pouring wine
Look at the desolate eyes and spit.
Poor and helpless, a doll
Bury this hatred in a pool of mud and silt
Cool breeze and cold words set each other off.
Pear flower sad body swimming in the air.
Beautiful city paid with a smile.
Where to go with your ugly head down?
It's hard to talk about smiling.
It's hard to joke.
The skin is shallow and cheap, and it is difficult to move.
Stick to the end of the wind.
Melissa Zhou urged wintersweet to cry.
The old swallow did not return to the nest and secretly cried.
The mountains and rivers shook and the clouds were gathering.
Time flies and hate has been abandoned.
Tears are flying in the air.
Self-locking without distractions
Smile and envy others.
There are tears in the world of mortals cup.
Cross the ocean or sink.
Magnificent and vast Ding Gankun
An ethereal thing is like dust.
Nothing to do, etc.
Laughter and hate in the wind.
The most is the red flower sighing dust.
Falling petals are not heartless changes.
Destroying spring mud is the first lesson.
The Milky Way likes to be a tomb.
Two hearts apart, hate and self-styled
Of course, I mourned for nine nights.
In the dream, Gan Kun, butterfly and butterfly meet.
Tears filled my eyes.
But my beloved won't agree.
When it needs to be dispersed and returned to dust.
Finally, be willing to be ungrateful.
3 thousand weak water alone with you
Regret not getting drunk with you
If I am guilty of everything, I don't know where I am guilty.
End up like a loser
The thin body buried the tears of self-esteem.
Standing alone. Yes
Meet in private in shame.
Why complain about right and wrong?
There is a saying that men love to hate tears.
Don't want to die, jade pieces.
Public anger can hardly be said to make people feel inferior.
Or will Wan Bi be ashamed alone?
The crime of infatuation in the world of mortals
Drunk, dreaming, dead, don't feel tired
Huang Jiang is drunk and lonely.
Still waiting for the Spring Hundred Flowers Fair.
I can't bear to cry at night.
Tears in dreams will not move.
Suddenly look from a distance.
I drank half the dust and frost.
New Year's Eve should be a new atmosphere.
I became a wax figure in silence.
Every time it rains, the double curtains will rain.
The world of mortals in the grave is real.
Mo Tao at dusk and sunset.
I only hate broken poor families.
Lai Chan wants to appreciate the beauty of birds.
It's like dreaming.
A spring breeze congratulates Guangsha.
Fireworks flying on the cheeks
You are in a dimly lit house.
I am scattered all over the world.
This is a sobering experience.
Or nothingness and eternal love?
Go through all the hardships, along the way
When it is difficult, the birds are not there.
There's no need to complain.
Let the dust in the wind mourn.
Tears turned pale overnight.
A thousand swords are in my heart.
Modern Poetry of the Night 3 Tonight, I want to order a pot of osmanthus wine.
With the full moon
Drink all the thoughts and homesickness.
Tonight, when the sweet-scented osmanthus comes to my face.
I can't help thinking of WU GANG waving an axe under the laurel tree.
On a full moon night, will he stop to admire the flowers on the tree?
Will the goddess Chang 'e in Guanghan Palace be lonely tonight?
When the wind gently lifts the veil of the moon
I think the fairy must have seen my till. I raised my glass and asked the moon.
Tonight, let me sit on the bright moon dish.
Listen to the voice from the sea of hearts
Laugh at the laughter of children carrying lanterns.
The moonlight is like water tonight, and the wine is intoxicating.
What floated was the melancholy like a light smoke.
The winding road is a deep expectation.
There is a lamp burning there.
It is the direction of home.
Modern Poetry at Night 4 Hide the hot air in your arms in autumn, and crush it carefully.
The meniscus peeps at the annual affectionate gaze.
I tasted fragrant tea, and I remember what you said about Na Pianhai.
This season, we must filter the pure and unrestrained.
Tonight, someone must be happy at the seaside.
In the distance, someone made a detailed inventory of his memory.
The cup is full of your eyebrows and your smiling face.
The most joyful thing is your seductive promise. You must have forgotten.
The cactus on the windowsill said, you must remember.
That ugly thing must be a genius. He always tells lies and makes me fall for it.
Once infatuated with a pair of lonely wings
Always want to fly over the cursed despair
I once had a crush on you, just as the sun flower longed for the light.
I thought I could hold a warm password and never forget it.
But I never imagined that the blazing flame would never escape the blue light.
The moon has set in the west, and the darkness blocked your way when you came.
The wind hurt that cloud, and it can't find your direction anymore.
Magpie Bridge must be very busy tonight, I didn't go.
Because I'm not someone's beloved weaver girl.
There is no cowherd I miss on the bridge.
Modern Poetry at Night 5 Quiet Night _ Modern Poetry
The shadow of the waterfront lamp is cool at first night.
In the twilight, the sleeping man muttered to himself.
Can't see the brilliant galaxy.
Can't see the moon palace in the sky
Looking from the railing, the wind is bleak and the rain is beautiful.
Lying alone on the brocade couch, lonely and boring.
Reading and meditation
The fairy came to the moon.
Take some time
Look at the world without a smile.
Close your eyes and listen to the melody at night.
The neon shadow is thin, people fall asleep, and the soul thinks about it.
Write down the words on the edge of the dream and tell me one by one when you wake up.
Modern Poetry of Night 6 Perhaps occasionally at night, I touched the light covered with dust because of silence.
Faint, faint
Yellow tungsten lamp mixed with faint darkness.
Shine in the dark
Accompanied by hundreds of millions of crystal raindrops
Stretched by the wind.
Like the three thousand silk of the moon goddess.
It's just ... the night covered her face.
I tried my best to find it, even on tiptoe.
See higher and farther ...
Only to find that my eyesight is poor,
The vague mist rolled like boiling water.
Even the yellow tungsten lamp ran away naughtily …
At this moment.
The sound of falling rain has become the most beautiful note.
It seems to disrupt the layers of smog in essence.
In the end, only wisps of gray smoke remained.
Smell it carefully
There seems to be a lingering smell of smoke in the kitchen.
Seems to realize
A few dark clouds fled in panic.
The starlight in the distance is also very interesting.
And ... she ... hid behind the dark clouds and smiled shyly.
a bit shy
A pair of moving beautiful eyes are crystal clear.
blink
Are enough to cover the bright starry sky.
Under the gray veil I never want to lift.
Maybe it's sadness.
Maybe it's sadness.
I quickened my pace.
Let the muddy road splash.
Let the cold wind penetrate your cheeks.
Let endless nights be postponed indefinitely.
until
until
A fish-belly white hides her vastness.
The morning mist tore her veil.
An ethereal outline
The appearance of whispering.
A weak body
Getting lighter and lighter
It's getting weaker and weaker
suddenly
The dew on the tip of the leaf reflects the goose egg yellow on the horizontal line.
Just for a second.
Her caution is puzzling.
Why are you shouting again?
After all, we can only wait for the next dusk.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead.
be all tears
If you are well, it will be sunny. ;
Night of Modern Poetry 7- 1
A moonless summer night
A gloomy day is just around the corner.
Look at the day through the window.
Waiting for your smile to appear.
Looking blankly-happiness?
I only saw the stars falling on the eaves.
Reach out and pick it up.
Scattered with broken memories
The night wind suddenly struck.
Only then did I realize that my cheeks were wet with tears.
two
Put the pillow on the window and stare at the sky.
Loneliness is a person's world
The moon left, but stayed.
Tangled tears and thoughts
Write a letter with pen and hand.
Draw your name and mine.
Write with sincerity and tears
Full of naive ideas
Then I'll let Jade Bird bring it to you.
Tell you: I love you.
three
Fairy tales are as beautiful as snow.
The room is full of pigeons.
Pale feathers
Scattered in every corner of the mountain
Lying on the pillow and looking at the sky with fairy tales.
Tell the moon: I'm going to sleep
The fever will be 4 1 degree tomorrow.
Because all I can think about is you.
I fell asleep thinking about it.
Holding clouds and dreams like cotton
Modern Poetry Night 8 Nights
Slowly lower the curtains.
Abandoned all the prosperity during the day.
It also covered up all the mistakes and obscenities at that time.
Let time cast its own shadow
Infinite extension
Until the cock announces dawn.
I gradually took off the cloth that covered my shame.
Curved crescent moon
Finally washed lead in the East China Sea.
Hang up your bright face slowly.
In order to give some comfort to the dark night sky
Slowly rise to the sky.
Show off one's posture proudly
Just for the lonely land.
Send it there, full of tenderness
The wind captured the tenderness of the moon.
Shake the neon lights of businessmen
Colorful colors
Shining with impressive brilliance.
Be intoxicated by the passing crowd.
Also poured into the tenderness of Na Yue.
More need a touch of its scenery.
Lotus leaves all over the sky
Enjoy the love of the wind.
Gently stretch his fatigue.
Crushed the mottled moonlight.
Soothe the feelings of the wind
Put the shape of the moon
Sink into the bottom of a deep pool
Trying to hide the delicate hibiscus with the night.
Lotus with pure heart
Be in a trance.
I caught a glimpse of the cold in Yue Hui.
A figure sinking into the bottom of the pool
Touch the pain of love
A firefly that I love deeply.
Why isn't there such a long lamp?
What a pure heart
Lonely cold
Since it's hard to be together forever.
Why not face each other silently?
Stand alone for the moon that never dies.
You'll die. No regrets.
Modern Poetry at Night 9 The corridor at midnight is empty and cold.
The click of women's high heels reverberated all over the world.
There is a strange rhythm in the crisp voice.
The dim wall lamp reflects the portrait of a woman.
The face is solemn and pale, and the sharp eyes make people flustered.
The light flickered slightly and seemed to suddenly go out at any moment.
On the wall of the promenade, there is a row of closed windows.
White curtains half covered the thick night outside the window.
Vaguely through the cracks in the curtains, into the faint moonlight.
Dark and desolate.
It's like painting a woman's face, showing a cold feeling.
The clatter of high-heeled shoes continued, but no owner made any noise in the long corridor.
The sound is clear like beating a drum, beating over and over again.
In a corner of the corridor, there is a woman curled up.
He hung his head down and his long ink-splashing hair hung straight on the ground.
A woman's face is hidden in the shadow of her hair, and she can't see her expression.
But that trembling shoulder seems to indicate a woman's fear.
His arm clasped his leg tightly, as if it would bring her a little sense of security.
As the sound gets closer, women tremble more and more.
Slowly, the woman raised her head.
It's like suffering from some kind of great torture. Look ferocious.
Blue and white skin, much like the color of a corpse.
Pupils are constricted and eyes are congested.
It's like some old ghost pattern, taboo and evil.
Lips pursed, glowing blue.
It seems to suppress some emotions, despair and explosive madness.
Suddenly, there was a piercing scream in the distance.
The voice is so sad, just like the voice of an evil ghost in death.
The woman suddenly stood up, and her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Shortness of breath can't be concealed, and the heart beats violently.
Women are barefoot, and their slender ankles are extremely gray.
The skirt is also dirty and can't tell the original color.
Just stand up straight, like a stone.
Stiff, time stands still.
She stared at the depths of the corridor.
Darkness, as if condensed into a man-eating evil spirit.
Staring greedily at the long-awaited prey.
It's like being bound by thousands of chains, and you can't escape if you can't earn it.
Collapse, and helpless despair.
No one knows what the end of darkness is.
The only thing a woman can do is wait and accept, whether it is good or bad! .
Modern poetry at night 10 is hazy.
Hang that quiet bend in front of the window.
-
The snow has been slow to fall.
Quietly covered up the thoughts of mumbling.
A Quiet Heart
Invite a glass of red wine to sleep.
-
Snow is warm and humid.
Drift into my heart
Like mother's rough hands.
Soften me gently
-
Si Nuo likes red wine.
That whisper.
Like mom's sweet nagging
Around the ear
-
Through a red wine glass swaying in the snow
I smell the yard that was once covered with snow.
-
I tasted the bowl made by my mother.
My favorite sour soup noodles ...
-
In the morning, the red wine is getting weaker and weaker.
That lingering warmth
Drift away bit by bit with the rotation of snowflakes.
-
How I wish I could write this glass of red wine soaked in snow.
I got drunk and didn't wake up this night.
How I wish the train could slow down at this station this year. ...
-
Put a holy hand in the distant mountains.
Take a touch of Hada and gently pull the birch tree.
-
The swan goose that landed on the eaves.
Wet my eyelashes.
-
Drink red wine and go back to your hometown.
Continuous heart
-
Let me pick it up
Hexagonal petals scattered on the pillow
I picked up a drunk lady last night. ...