Modern poems praising father 1 father is a river, which flows with the years and tells the vicissitudes of the world;
Father is the sea, holding up the sun and flying the wings of the sky;
Father is a mountain with a strong backbone and the fragrance of earth;
Father's love is like a mountain, deep and powerful, shielding me from the wind and rain;
Father's love is like water, silent and gentle, smoothing my inner wounds;
Father's love is like the sun, warm and brilliant, illuminating the darkest corner of my heart for me;
Father's love is like the moon, ignorant and elegant, which can give me hope even in the most cloudy days.
Father's love is like a song, melodious and heavy, which gives me the motivation to live;
Father's love is like the sea, broad and magnanimous, which contains countless mistakes of mine.
Modern poems praising father II. Thank you.
Raised my golden childhood.
When did you forget the story you told me?
When did you miss your silent gaze?
Forgive me.
I will never give you a hug when I grow up.
You are proud of me.
I have never been proud of you.
You are too generous.
This is my eternal shame.
Look up at a mountain and look down at a river.
The mountain is called Father Mountain and the river is called Mother River.
Shanlin's father's hand
Qiu Lai sends wild fruits in summer.
Mother's songs flow in the river, gentle and beautiful.
Sing to me every year,
Father Mountain, Mother River
The mountains are majestic and the rivers are clear.
Raised several generations of children.
Moisturize the good life on earth.
Modern Poetry Praise Father 3 When I took the metal fragments out of my palm,
My father whispered a story.
I looked at his lovely face, not the blade.
Before the end of the story, he took out
I thought it would kill me.
I don't remember the story,
But at first glance, I can still hear his voice.
Black well, a prayer.
I remember his hand,
Double tenderness
He put it on my face,
The flame of discipline
He hangs over my head.
If you were there that afternoon
You may think you saw a man.
What to plant in a boy's palm,
A drop of silver tears, a small flame.
If you follow that boy,
You will come here,
I bent down with my back to my wife's right hand.
See how I smooth her nails.
Being very careful, she felt no pain at all.
I look like I'm pulling pieces.
It was when I was seven years old, my father.
Hold my hand,
I didn't put the fragments
Hold it in my hand and think,
Metal, bury me,
Call it a little killer,
The ore goes deep into my heart.
I didn't lift my wound and cry,
Death has come!
When he gave me something to keep.
I did what a child should do.
I kissed my father.
Modern poetry praises Father 4 as a man named Father.
It soon brought me into this world.
Just left in a hurry.
What left me was a blank memory.
I received a letter from my mother.
The newborn man hugged me.
Lovingly blame me way
How can you be so ugly?
There is nothing about my father.
I can't understand this meaning.
After becoming someone else's father
Start collecting heavy bits and pieces.
For the smiles of his wife and children.
That man will swallow all the suffering.
Make a living for children
That man never stints on physical and mental strength.
That man is the dumbest person in the world.
He will never express his feelings accurately.
That man is the dumbest person in the world.
He doesn't care, he only knows how to pay.
He cares for his family wholeheartedly.
But he just doesn't care about himself at all
It doesn't matter whether relatives care about him or not.
This is father-a common name.
Modern poems praising father 5. Eyes deep, slightly.
Collapse, eyes still there.
It is the lamp of diligence and wisdom;
Follow my leadership in this world.
The hair has dried up
Pumbaa hung loosely.
If the waterfall hangs, it will be long.
Years, human suffering and troubles are intertwined.
Life's wind, frost, rain and snow slowly stagnated, solidified and persisted for a long time.
That's a life lesson book: I won't get tired of reading it.
As white as silver
Hair, but not bright night.
Stumbling steps, running in the fields.
By the river, I was alone and unaccompanied.
It seems to be to run away, world.
Wind, frost, rain and snow are all hidden in vicissitudes of life.
Father, are you going to break down the door?
That cold and hungry Chai Men cabin.
Ask the cold-hearted man who struggled with death.
An old man with trembling lips that has nothing to do with you?
Your gray hair and sunken eyes are full.
A cry of compassion and homesickness
Another world, accept
My father died of failure all his life, and so far.
The last words rang in my ears over and over again.
Go on.
Call one after another
Nostalgia after homesickness
Sigh one after another
Trivial flying, like a father's.
Fahua, whose hand tore it?
Trivial things are like the soul of a father.
Can you fly to the sky?