Are there any particularly lovely modern poems or words?

The person sitting in the peach blossom, her city is peach blossom and wine, and she sees that every peach blossom is a spring. The peach blossoms in the city are all crimson, and there are many soft watchmen in the peach blossoms. Sunshine spoils spring. The rushing peach blossoms and the lost peach blossoms left the mind of the flower watcher on the road that could not be turned back. My heart must be full of rain. I think, before we get old, don't rush to tell the secrets in our hearts, pick up a can of drizzle, plant a seed, and then confront you.