The Beginning of Winter's Modern Poetry

In daily life or work and study, everyone has heard or used some classic poems. Poetry has the characteristics of harmonious phonology, distinct rhythm and catchy mouth. What kind of poems are classics? The following are six modern poems about beginning of winter compiled by me for your reference only. Welcome to reading.

Beginning of winter's Modern Poetry 1 Leaves are shattered by the autumn wind, and the water is fine.

Who does beginning of winter ask out? It depends on Justin and Du Pujiang Pavilion.

Time has changed, spring and autumn, why see through?

Not lonely, spread a pen and paper, and have a drink.

Don't ask if flowers bloom and fall, splash ink and graffiti, it's cold.

The pen is fat and weak, the words are easy to fill in, and the rhyme is difficult to learn.

Let the road be bumpy, hammer words and refine sentences, and fame and fortune are not worrying.

Flashy don't laugh at me, just entertain yourself.

The Beginning of Winter's Modern Poetry II. Urgent scenery urges scenery, and famous mountains disperse.

In the forest, you can see the distant village, and you can protect the secluded lent.

Spring cold with ice, chrysanthemum cream color is good.

The purpose of the meeting is different, and whose cleverness is different.

Fill in the appointment, chat and expect.

Gankun is blessed with eternal luck, and the world is United as one.

The wonderful god has always been there, and he has forgotten it deeply.

My official bowed to Song and only learned the skill of explanation.

In a leap, Bai Zang was replaced by Yuan Ming.

When the depression stopped, it was still green, and the stream had already turned yellow.

Like painting a row of villages, like standing in a nursery.

It is really auspicious and full of happiness with my uncle.

Beginning of winter's Modern Poetry 3 Meng Dong October, the north wind lingering.

It's sunny with frost.

Kites sing in the morning and swans fly south.

Storks lurk and bears live in caves.

The money stopped and the crops were harvested.

Set the whole journey and connect with the merchants.

I am glad to use this poem to express my inner desire.

The beginning of modern poem 4 in winter has not yet arrived.

Wake up from the warm autumn sunshine.

Winter is shrouded in chills.

Standing quietly in front of you.

A little abrupt, a little chilly.

Just like you.

Want an answer?

I haven't had time to figure it out yet.

You just wave, smile, and then turn around and leave.

Say goodbye, goodbye is no longer goodbye.

The gray sky is like snow.

That's your sweet talk.

It's too late to float here to get it now.

It has long been an expired fairy tale.

Tick-tock, tick-tock with the rain.

Fall down in the armpit in winter

Without buds, there would be no flowers.

In winter, the first five leaves of modern poetry dance wildly, and the red leaves wither.

With a wisp of thoughts and breath.

Helplessly buried in the winter soil.

That last sigh

Blown by the wind, without trace.

The sun hides its smile, hidden in thick dark clouds.

The wind roared through the buildings.

Like an air defense alarm.

The rain is falling wantonly, beating everything that can be beaten.

Like warm applause at the commendation meeting.

Night, a little cold, people, a little trembling, heart, a little cold.

I haven't had time to say goodbye to Qiu.

In winter, cold black powder debuted, which was a bit confusing and a bit unexpected.

The natural and unrestrained departure of spring, summer and autumn does not take away a cloud.

Winter has become the only overlord in this world.

Beginning of winter is the preface of The Beginning of Winter.

Great cold is the swan song of the killer of extreme cold in winter.

Cold, cold, rigidity, barrenness and freezing are the themes of winter.

It seems that everything must be absolutely obedient in front of it.

It's as cold as a knife, and blood is lost from your life bit by bit.

This is an irresistible will from the inauguration ceremony in winter.

Winter, pride, arrogance, madness, talking.

Look, look, look, look at the green hills.

You see, you see the river stop smiling, you see the birds stop singing.

You see, you see, you see the flowers are no longer bright and open, withered and silent.

You see, you see that the sky is gray and the earth is white.

This is the masterpiece of my winter overlord's life

Look, look, look, winter, smiling proudly.

You see, you see, winter, dumb, trembling, afraid.

Look, look, look at a red plum smiling at the snow in the distance.

Waiting to turn over the spring dawn newspaper, gentle, beautiful and brilliant.

See you Dong Er still how to laugh, how to laugh. ...

Beginning of winter's Modern Poetry 6 You have gone through spring and autumn.

Collect the cold of this season

Compiled a cold collection of poems.

Dry pen, written as a rigid postscript

Ruthless hand tore off the season.

Beautiful coat, bare

Bodies on the ground, dead chrysanthemums.

Covered up the privacy of early winter

Your indifference drove away migratory birds.

And the ugly sparrow doesn't care.

The ant snake is still foraging.

I'm ready, too. Hide in the cave.

You face the Yellow River, and the Yellow River says

How can your indifference freeze me?

The surging momentum, don't forget.

My informant is Carly Qu.

You invaded the sea, said the sea.

I don't care about your threats.

But I can keep you and take a nap at the tip of my iceberg.

Let you feel my atmosphere.

You invaded Gaoshan, Gaoshan said.

Although you dyed my hair white.

But I'm waiting for the love of spring

When the spring breeze blows

I am still full of youthful vitality.

You don't have the courage to face the pine and cypress.

Pine and cypress said, your arrival

It doesn't mean anything to me, no matter how cold you are

I am still green.

You angered the brook, said the brook.

Although you freeze the thoughts of fallen leaves

But I keep my thoughts of falling flowers in my heart.

When the spring breeze hits your meanness.

I'm still in the arms of the sea.

The biting cold makes people's bodies swell.

Snow covered the vitality of the village.

The smoke in the kitchen is full of mellow wine.

Counting one year's calculation, we need the wind and rain in the coming year.

It is expected that on the kang, the raging fire

Around the warm breath, the dim crow monopolized the old tree.

Dead vines weave vast poems.

The hunter's tracking left traces of panic.

Just when you get carried away.

A plum blossom with a faint fragrance.

Fragrant and cold poetry books.

Accompanied by frozen notes, warmth

The lively silence is full of poetry.

Warmth, all things decorate the new clothes of the earth.

But you're in front of everyone

Invisible escape, spring is for that book.

Poetry without foreword has a foreword of flowers and birds singing.