The cuckoo and the nightingale
Reverberating on the whole grassland
The wind blows on the leaves.
Hit each other and make Sasha's voice.
Like a knight on the battlefield,
The sword clinked against the sword.
Under that big tree in the distance
Hiding a cabin,
Maybe that's your home.
I joke with the wind.
It blows the soil.
Released youth,
Sitting on the grassland
Look at the stars,
The night is so quiet,
Weng Weng, who only hears mosquitoes
Communicate with the stars,
Yes, I heard you,
They sparkle.
Communicate with your heart,
I hear wolves howling from time to time.
So the wind stopped.
But the leaves fell,
The grassland swayed in the curtain.
The moon spreads in the lake.
A beautiful carpet.
Established abortion in Jiangnan.
The stars put themselves at this time
Grind into pearls
Embedded in every corner of the grassland
I peeked at it.
The vole coming out of the dark path
A chubby body
Shake it like a guitar.
And a little gray rabbit.
Put rushes in your mouth.
I only see two eyes rolling.
Everything is so clear,
Everything is so unclear.
Small spoon in the sky
Why are you always so smart?
The bonfire beside the sound crackled.
Should I go to bed,
The moon is half exposed.
The wind roared across the lawn.
Blowing the door of the hut
A little boy came out!
Modern poetry, a cup of black tea on a moonlit night, leaning against the window,
Reach out to pick the moon overhead,
Suddenly find
She has escaped;
Bend over,
Try to pick it up.
The murmur of water under your feet,
She's still calling deeper.
Hiding in the quilt,
Have a charming dream:
Facing the window lattice of the moon,
Covering the mouth of Yutu,
Peep at Chang 'e's new love;
Stepping on a cool stream,
Hee hee among the grass and stones,
Read the lingering feelings of fish and shrimp;
Liu Yong chased the waning moon when he was awake.
Tie her firmly under the buttonwood tree in the yard,
Until she promised to get out for a long time ...
Frogs in the fragrance of rice,
Shuttling by my bed,
Rub the spiritual scroll.
Suck the loneliness in the wine,
Listen to the frog's cry,
A spasm in my heart:
Silence and noise are the faces of the night,
They never stop changing,
Deduct the two ends of adult life.
In the long and fuzzy night,
Several children appeared on the concrete road,
Their schoolbags contain my childhood dreams:
Out of the house
Building a beautiful urban garden ...
Modern Poetry in the Moonlight 3 Along the ancient Book of Songs, I sat.
In mid-August, willow branches dragged obliquely across the shore.
Gently touch a normal thought.
Time has opened the curtain of memory, brewing the meeting of flowers.
Under the ancient bridge, there are occasional awning boats crossing.
Standing on the other side, you have a beautiful brow.
I hurried back and bumped into your affectionate eyes.
Immigrants' hearts are uneasy and will never be forgotten.
And don't go to past lives, and don't go to the future.
In the years of shaking, the story will grow old inch by inch.
The residual temperature of the palm dragging will prolong the silence.
Keep an innocent and simple wet experience.
Just because, just because of the moonlight, there is our legend on the waterfront.
We used to think that the distant days are now between our eyebrows.
Warm and sweet, clean as water.
I am a beauty on the shore.
Come to Jiangnan and come to Bridge 24.
Continuous misty rain flooded the end of the bridge.
I stood in the cloister on the street corner and thanked you for your wonderful smile.
At the invisible end, we walked into the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River.
* * * Hold an oiled paper umbrella with a faint evergreen flag.
Surf in the micro-embellishment and listen to a gentle love.
Modern Poetry in Moonlight 4 The sky is boundless and the night is boundless.
Tonight's star, I don't know where to wander.
Month, sending out the cold light.
Reflecting my shadow has nowhere to hide.
Cold moonlight, from the fingertips slowly soaked into the heart.
I still gaze at you devoutly.
Always stand, just waiting for one eye contact.
Endless gaze
The flow of fearless years.
No fear, the end of time
Don't be afraid that your indifference will bury me.
Tonight, I just want to engrave your appearance in my heart.
Why can only night keep you busy?
Why can I have your body and occupy your light only at night?
How can I stop thinking about you?
Why do you make me so crazy?
Even if they are close at hand, they are far apart.
Reality binds desire.
The heart that has been silent for a long time fluctuates wildly in the chest, and it is hot in an instant.
Leave a wound that will never fade
You are by my side, when I can never reach the distance where you stop.
Endless gaze, in exchange for endless melancholy.
Modern poetry, moonlit night, looking north to the customs.
The moon shines thousands of miles, and the walls are light and thin.
Who made Xiao Yue bend down in front of the poplar weeping willow courtyard?
Grass beside the sandbar makes sorrow in the cup.
Ten years of bitter cold window, half a life as a gardener.
3 thousand micro-salary, shame bag
A drop in the bucket can't solve a cold.
How can I look back at the bustling world with tears in my eyes?
My humble abode covers the window.
Half a cup of old wine worries about the moon.
Drunk string, slanting moon juanjuan
Who is free and romantic?
If you want to travel thousands of miles, it is difficult to walk thousands of miles.
The heart loses courage, but blood is stronger than frost and cold.
Gan Kun was at a loss.
Enjoy colorful lights and villas, and listen to the sea dance garden.
Jun Tian Le Di Shuimanxie
A new biography of a dance
But I can't be familiar with things. Ren Changfeng blows all over the place.
A falling flower exposed the edge of the porch.
Sigh, sigh, sigh-
Play alone when you wake up on a cold night.
With a fence, the heart grows.
Feng Jian from Cangsong Cuibai.
The moon is thin and the flowers are thin, and the phoenix tree is thin and shadows the window.
Tossing and turning at night
Looking from a distance, the world of mortals sighs for the fleeting time.
I haven't been idle for a long time.
what can I do? Duckweed has a mixed mist.
Naihe Qiaotou, the past is like smoke
The fragile inferiority complex goes with the flow.
Qiu Lan, stepping into the micro-tide, leans against the bar till late.
A tune of bright moon and xiaoxiang wind drum
Since then, I have been living in the Peach Blossom Garden.
Pour a cup of tea and drink it when you are young.
Stability and calmness, the waterfront is wise.
A Zen sound, a song of youth.
I know a lot for a long time, but I cherish the warmth and coldness.
Open a hollow window
The faint fragrance gives a meteor, and the dream hangs on the willow.
Eagles fly and butterflies dance with the fleeting time.
Reading by candlelight at night, Wenhai wanders alone.
Dancing in the middle of the night, writing alone, my heart and me
Years leave blank and write happiness.
Pick flowers in the morning and listen to insects under the moon.
Climbing mountains, reading rain and listening to summer cicadas.
A piece of paper is bright.
A pulse of Butterfly Manor haunts my mind.
Poems flying down waterfalls
Keep warm in words