Poetry about the World Cup

The poem about the World Cup is as follows:

Article 1: The eternal poetic meaning of the World Cup

The earth revolves around the sun, football revolves around the earth and fans revolve around football.

There are many bystanders in the struggle between us.

Dry wood poured with gasoline will ignite at any time and will ignite a raging fire.

This football accidentally ignited the temper of the earth.

Human beings are animals with ambitions and dreams.

So it also created the myth that football turns the earth.

The earth typhoon that blows once every four years has caused the long-awaited.

Crustal vibration, madness hidden in the blue planet.

Will be unstoppable because of this football.

Earth football, facing football directly means looking up, and facing football directly means looking up at the radiant sun.

Football earth, facing the scene of fierce fighting.

You will think that this round sphere is another dangerous mine.

When it was detonated, it was a madness of mud and dust.

It can make the face of the earth twitch, the sky falls and the mountains and rivers are out of balance.

Unpredictable skills, tactical entanglements, circuitous charge, and round-trip rotation make people return to the cruel war years.

On the eternal earth, the eternal football game affects human beings and releases the pleasure to the fullest.

Push blood pressure to the peak, causing an incredible and frightening.

Football football, magic football, attacking the city and plundering the land.

Get together in joys and sorrows, and let glory and dreams indulge all feelings.

The nerves of the earth are tense, scratching their hearts and livers, and their blood is boiling.

Because of the sun, everything grows, because of football, the earth is brilliant.

Part II: Patriotic Poetry of the World Cup.

A little golfer touched it with his hand, changed it to kicking, and stuck it on his toe for nine days.

Spin, spin, endless.

I don't know when to spin, I don't know what witchcraft is afraid of, I don't know what dreams are gorgeous, and I don't know what power is shocking.

Generation after generation, the tide rises and falls, falling into dreams, and I don't know if I will return to the football field.

World Football Championship, World Football Cup, World Cup.

The soul of the ages, Europe, Europe, America, Europe and Africa, swept the world.

Feast all night, lawn, square, plain, mountain, boundless sea.

Touching the eyeball, even jumping in the dream, come on, come on.