Modern Poetry Describing Spring Girls

1, "Rain passes through my chest"

A sound

Tick tock tick tock

Run down from a very high place

Like a long-haired girl shawl and a black waterfall.

Hurry up

That's why I became

In the endless rain curtain

A dizzy elf

I can't tell who it is.

That's really unstoppable.

desire

Raindrops are flying in the air.

Floating slowly in the sky.

Gather strength from

Untouched clouds

Infiltrate quietly

My broad chest

So my breasts fluctuate.

Stir up ripples

Flapping on the rocks of feelings

Wave after wave of breathing.

With a drop of rain

Moisten each other

A drop of rain like this.

Go deep into my heart

Mixed with my thoughts.

And then through the narrow space in my heart

Clean everything.

And a ray of sunshine

Seize the opportunity to travel through time and space

Reach my clear sky

2. Poetry in Spring

A person's story of spring

One morning in a dense fog

Moistened the birds singing all spring.

Memories soaked in songs come from clever birds.

Hao Han Byrd holds the tears of winter.

Swallows pecked up the spring mud of rainy apricot flowers.

Build your own barriers.

It is a short spring.

It is also inevitable to leave at flowering stage.

Loyalty, Zigui's beauty of vomiting blood.

Condensed into the seeds of double suicide.

Deep in the grave of happiness

Even if it doesn't sprout.

But it also marks a limited life.

What is that? It's far.

What is that? It's far.

It's autumn wind chasing leaves.

It was the spring rain that washed the green branches.

It is the low footsteps of snow flowing through the window.

Is it a poplar that sighs slightly through the autumn night?

What is that? It's far.

This is spray

This is the surging tide.

It's the roar of butch.

Did lightning strike the sky and the ground?

What is that? It's far.

This is a neat group of frogs.

This is a monotonous short song of bees.

This is the sound of the city flapping its wings.

Is it the tide of life?

What is that? It's far.

It's the jitter of the eardrum

This is the roar of the waterfall.

It is the sparrow who talks about the morning in surprise.

Is it a sad farewell to dusk in western Western jackdaw?

What is that? It's far.

This is the mechanical beating of life.

It's a spark on the anvil

This is the laughter of coal in the fire

Are zinc and copper melting?

What is that? It's far.

What is it? Is it far?

I can't hear clearly in my dream.

3. Pushing Open the Door of Spring

I hear birds chirping.

In the city, there are several spring birds.

They are afraid to go into town.

Just cheering and jumping outside the classroom.

They are as simple as farmers in the countryside.

Let me sprout a sense of closeness.

They are my friends.

Like a relative I met by chance.

They are looking for unknown bugs.

Make a friendly voice to one's companion

After school, I fell in love with birdsong.

In the debate about birds,

I pushed open the door of spring.

4. "Go for an outing"

weekend

Meet a kite

Go to the top of the suburb.

Let your son fly.

Joy in winter

One flew in from a distance.

Floating leaves

Saw-saw

Come and go with your son

The wife is lying down.

Kiss intimately

Achnatherum splendens with wet body.

The whole afternoon.

I am restless.

Really want to

Take your son away

Homework in the bag

Help him sweep it off.