A great collection of modern Chinese New Year verses

1. A Complete Collection of Ancient Poetry About Chinese New Year

1. New Year's Eve

Gao Shi

The cold light of the hotel is not sleeping alone, what is the matter of the guest's heart to turn miserable?

The first time I saw this is when I was a kid, and it was the first time I'd ever seen a kid.

2, "New Year's feeling"

Qian Lai Su

Jin ou what to sue the withered, this responsibility when the Tu dare to self-forgiveness.

The beacon fire in the distant Central Plains is rapid, and a pillar of wild current is in Yan'an.

The devastation of the land can not bear to see, trilateral farming and weaving have a happy.

The first time I saw this was when I was in the middle of the night, when I was in the middle of the night, when I was in the middle of the night.

3. New Year's Eve

Bai Juyi

Sick eyes are not sleepy, and the old heart is full of feelings.

After the fire and the lamps are gone, it will be the sixty people who have the same head.

I also throw a few papers with people, the world is too simple not too false.

5. New Year's Day

Kong Shangren

The white hair is not full, and the fireplace is a waste of sleep.

The first day of the first month of the Chinese New Year, the first day of the second month of the Chinese New Year, is the first day of the third month of the Chinese New Year.

The first thing you need to do is to listen to the firecrackers, and then you can watch them being burned.

The drums and the plum blossoms are added to a part of the New Year, and the five nights are spent laughing and paying tribute to the New Year.

The New Year

will bring us expectations

Confident you and I

have been full of unlimited power

We have renewed all

Soft, the red apricot outside the wall oh

Can you retreat my extravagant longing, the intention of the wind

Turnover of the The mood moves the dream away

That burst of sadness feels New Year's Day

Ah

Another year has passed

It's like a dream

A new year has begun

The joyous times are still flashing in front of us

It's another year full of laughter and laughter

The fresh wind

Is blowing from the day after day

--------- -------

New Year's Day

The four seasons come and go

It's time to go

Go away!

The dust storms of spring

The poisonous days of summer

The relentless floods of autumn

And the cruel frosts of winter

The past is all

Lamented, and on it goes

On it goes--

Whose was I once, the hard devices

See the seven-colored clouds have drifted towards us

Gathering courage

With our intelligence and hard work

Meeting new challenges

Casting the dazzling halls

--- ---------- ------

"New Year's Day - Waiting for Spring"

■ Dawn

Hiding in your arms, shame and hatred, green

Can?

Interspersed with the game, I consume

own greenhouse green? The story

Begins with an unexpected ending

Everyone held him up to the sky

Divine offerings

I got drunk and seduced myself

The emotional ruins, from him

Or from me to cover up?

The days of spring and the days of sleeplessness, helplessness

But

We have never been afraid of anything

Stride forward

No longer look back at the unforgettable days

Yuan day, the theory of arithmetic fascination

Each other had a scenic show Oh, framing the precious

Miserable words? A sentimental hero

ulterior motive of the fall collapse, show

who is playing hero, I walk alone

calmly, with disillusioned wine

dance with the wind, with love

courier ......

trample on the traces of the emotions of others? The past -

How hard you

Playing who, with a smile show crying

My perfect do-it-yourself oh, go

3. Modern people describe the Spring Festival poetry

Self-created, may not be copied to answer

Spring Festival

p> Celebrating the first day of the Year of the Dragon, the land of God is happy without precedent.

The dragon and the lion are dancing, and the ship is sailing.

Spring Festival

The first day of the Year of the Golden Cockerel is celebrated, and the lion dances and dragons take off in a new direction.

A thousand hectares of blue jade, silver flowers and ten thousand homes in spring.

The peach and the plum in front of the door, the pine and the peony in the back of the house.

The festival is a great opportunity to celebrate the world, and the dream of picking the stars and the moon has come true.

New Year's Eve

The good night **** degree of joy without precedent, the pursuit of the past and the present emotion thousand thousand.

The firecrackers will be heard for three hundred miles, and the peach blossoms will be reflected in the sky.

The countryside is drunk, and the towns are sleepless at night.

The snow is in full bloom, and the orchids are in full bloom.

4. Modern Chinese New Year Poetry

1. New Year's Eve

Wen/Cao Haiyan

All the lights

Surging with happiness

Surging with joyful waves

Time grows old in the sound of congratulations

Narcissus pulls the wheel of the year

It's the year again, and I'm thinking about it

Who's still there this night

The proclamation of the proclamation of the Year of the Redevelopment of the World's Languages and Culture.

I'm picking up the remnants of an ancient dream

I'm letting the bustle of the night accompany you to the ends of the earth

I'm prying open the frozen spring breeze

I'm stepping on the scenic lines painted by the years

I'm fetching the old wine that was scalded on New Year's Eve

How many travelers have drunk the wine on the other side of the world

In the millions of times that we've been in this world

We are all drunk on the world of the world.

All the grains are fragrant

It's the frail figure of my mother

Standing at the gate, calling for us to come home

The night falls silent

Composing a symphony of reunion for all the families

South and north of the river, they all play music and pray for good luck

Twisting the wheel of the year, they hold up the totem of the nation

New Year's Eve is intoxicating to all the people. Reveling

Reveling in the totem pods

Candlelight weaving tonight's starry night

And with the sound of a blessing

Accompanying us as we grow up together

2. Chinese New Year's Message

Wen/LiuQuan (Tang ManMan)

Unloading the year's make-up

Seeing our parents from afar

are unforgettable

At this very moment

tears have formed lines

It is only when you are born as a parent that you realize the love of the mountains and the water

I would rather eat and dress less

than

let my children go to the sweaty side of the world

3: Happy Chinese New Year

New Year's Eve, going home Author/Li Gwanggu

Go home on New Year's Day

A question

A call

A distant home is connected to the ends of the earth and the sea

Though it is separated by thousands of miles and thousands of hills

But the road back home is always in front of our eyes

The joy of harvesting more

Can't diminish the wish to go back home

Traveling all the way home day and night

I am tired and weary

I am tired and weary

I am tired and weary and we are tired and we are tired and we are tired and we are tired and we are tired.

But it's a year's worth of reunions

A year's worth of work

Walking in a city without winter

A cool breeze from the sea

Not enough to make the greens rusty

Ledoux is on fire

And the towers are still standing

If no one is left to drink a lonely meal

I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to make it.

If no one drank alone, how would the city be lit up with thousands of lights

Going home, the dragon crosses the mountains and rivers

The child takes the hand of his mother

The day of the reunion is short, but it is short, so I'm afraid to say.

The streets are filled with lanterns and flags

The trees are filled with flowers and lights

People's faces are full of smiles

It's New Year's Eve

Everywhere, there are colors of celebration

Drums and gongs, lions and dragons

Fireworks

The streets are filled with smiles and laughter

The streets are filled with flowers, lilies, and dragons

The streets are filled with smiles and laughter

***Together we are celebrating the New Year

We are going to celebrate the New Year

Feeling the joy of the reunion

Enjoying the comfort and warmth

Expecting a better future

Nurturing the hope of the New Year

Starting a brand-new prelude to tomorrow

We are going to celebrate the New Year

We are going to celebrate the New Year

The New Year of the People's Republic of China

We are going to celebrate the New Year of the People's Republic of China

We are going to celebrate the New Year of China with the New Year. It's New Year's Eve

Standing in front of the window, my thoughts are all over the place

I've put my long thoughts and blessings

into a heartfelt piece of music

I'll play my prayers with my blessings

5. Modern Poetry About Chinese New Year

Modern Poetry] Forgetting the Spring Festival The unoccupied courtyard of a spring night The winds sing softly in my dreams Listening to the sound of footsteps of those who have gone to the far ends of the earth Some people have come back to their home town. If there is a piece of moonlight on my pillow, I can't sleep tonight, because there is still her shadow in my heart, dancing in my lonely eyes, every time I look up to the blue sky, the clouds drift to the place where the sun sets, every time I embrace the dark night, the stars twinkle in the farthest away, and I want to shed a few tears under the lamp, but I'm afraid that tears will reflect the heartbreak of yesterday, and I leave the warmth of my soft bed, but I don't know who is waiting for the spring, and you are right here under the bright window, thinking about the love of the spring, thinking about the frost of fall, thinking about all the sweet scents of flowers, and thinking about all the sweet smells of flowers, and thinking about all the sweet smells of flowers. Thinking of all the sweet scents of flowers, I'm already on my way to waking up, secretly crying, quietly laughing, slowly forgetting my heart, forgetting it for spring, forgetting it for the candlelight of longing, or for the hope of loneliness. In the grove of the city, it's greening up, my grove. In the grove of ants and flying insects, these humble creatures are all coming with spring. Under the soil, I can hear the sound of earthworms crawling and banging with soft heads against the closed doors of the soil. On the grass of the grove, I saw a flock of goats, with their long whiskers swinging, bleating, and shaking my youth and soul. A black goat came towards me, with tears of happiness on its face. They are my friends, as if they were my relatives whom I met by chance. They are looking for unknown bugs, and they make a friendly sound to their companions. Outside of the city, I fell in love with the sound of the birds, and in the chirping of the birds, I opened the door of spring. My heart is in turmoil this spring, remembering at one time certain tombstones, and at another time my childhood. This spring is in turmoil. Spring poems are filled with spring, and my dedication to them is a crown of spring blades of grass and flowers. What else can I do this spring, and who can I embrace the light of spring with? I am a dizzy spirit in the rain, and I cannot tell who is the real, unquenchable desire that dances in the air and floats soothingly high in the sky, and that builds up its strength and seeps through the unadorned clouds into my broad chest, so that my heart is in turmoil this spring. And so the waves of my chest, the ripples of my heart, the waves of my breath, the waves of my feelings, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, the waves of my breath, and the rain. I am carrying a seasonal blade that mercilessly scrapes open the agitated buds, letting the small hands that have been cracked by the ice all winter reach out and hold the hunting flags to chase a snow in spring, as long as I step on the equator of spring, a snowstorm will be exceptionally precious, and the conversation about spring and snow flows freely, and the snowflakes send out commands in six directions, transmitting a gust of moist messages. In fact, spring has nothing to do with snow, but the sudden cold that tightens the grip of everyone's love, looking up at the sky, the sky, the sky and the love. Looking up at the sky, the contact between the sky and the earth is intense and pure. Walking down the slope of the season, I see in front of me the last snowfall waiting for the last snowfall, and the tops of the trees outside the window. The branches of the trees hang low and sigh, spraying out the mist, dripping with the desire for spring. A bud that quietly arches out of the frozen ground, tapping on the doorway of the earth, and the sparrow that strolls around with a soft thud, disappears behind the cracked trunks, enjoying its love. In the countryside, lightweight kites fly their seasonal boats lyrically to the territory of spring, where the roads are still muddy, and the occasional pedestrian raises his collar, shutting out the cold, while the sun shines brightly inside the door of spring. I've been restless all afternoon, wanting to pull out my son's homework from his backpack and sweep it up for him. An old buffalo nibbles on a grassy field dotted with wildflowers and then, childlike, "Moo," the cow's hooves spit beads and wakes up spring's ears from the river next to the springtime saplings and the trees on the field's ridge. The leaves on the ridge rose above the leaves. Imagine that not long ago, in this very field, this very old buffalo was ruminating and grunting, pushing the seasons along at a pace, an empty-handed philosopher making gestures that turned the warm colors of the land through the cold eyes of the seasons, slanting the cool, classical figure heavily into the waves of the mud, pulling and urging the ploughshare in his hand to match up with the old farmer. 2004-03-09 Who Hunted the Feathers of Spring? Who hunts away the feathers of spring?" The last feather of the season, after experiencing the fullness of life, hides in the dreary twilight of spring, and under the wings of the sun, a serenade of peace and relaxation perches on the wind, gently licking the sails sailing on the sea of seasons, who, after reaping the harvest of love, has again fallen out of love under the roof of love, turning his back on his prayers, and silently moistening his tears with his once-romantic passions, swims on the cloudy, hazy space of spring, and sees the fading of love in the fields. Seeing the dying rays of light, bathing in the shades of clouds, the heat of the sea and the sky, the beautiful feathers, can no longer overcome the endless journey of smoke and locks, and then, with the promise of no words, lifting up a pious streamer to the distance, who hunts for the feathers of spring, but can't find the sky in which to soar, and collects the feathers on the branches of love? 2004-03-08 Waiting for the Sun to Run Over I think that on a spring afternoon, perhaps there are a lot of things that will be boring. I thought that on a spring afternoon, I might be bored with many things, leaning alone on the window sill, watching the clouds roll in and out of the distant sky, and the crowded downstairs, where the pedestrians rush by, each with a serious expression, witnessing the solitary actions of others, and the sky is clear, and a lyrical dove, with its beautiful plumage and its whistles, glides with impunity between kite and breeze, and the sky casts an athletic shadow, and moves with only an irregular motion, and with a trace of thought, and sets up a bridge, with its open feathers, to a distant land, waiting for the best beam of light, and a bridge that would be better than one that would be a bridge to a distant land. Waiting for a beam, preferably a beam of long-lost sunlight, to come running towards us, and then to embrace it with all its might. 2004-2-2 The Weekend The car, with its broken steps, wearily pushes forward from the noise to the goal, and the boiling wilderness is silent, and a swarm of honeybees descends into the depths of the season as the masters of the rapeseed blossoms, and lays dashingly among the stamens, and from the gaps in the petals, witnesses the wind's dance, and stretches its back to let out the depression in its chest.

6. Modern Poetry about Chinese New Year

With laughter

Why make up words of praise

Expressing happiness with a smile

Isn't it perfect enough

With tears

Why give away consolations

Stories from the heart

Is there a need to package them up

"Our Chinese New Year"

"Our Chinese New Year"

"Our Chinese New Year"
"Our Chinese New Year"
"Our Chinese New Year"
"Our Chinese New Year" is a poem about the Chinese New Year.

With the real

Why do we have to be so attached to hypocrisy

Spreading seeds in the land of spring

Isn't that the most wonderful message

With the Chinese New Year at the next level

Don't you need to give any gifts anymore

We take care of each other with our love

Isn't there any other way to express our love and care for each other

More than one way to express our love and care for each other

We are the only ones who can do it.

Spring Festival

Spring Festival is a flag

It's the Chinese totem of spring

The north wind may freeze through every brick

But the people still warm up the day with the hot smoke

The cold may still lock the eyes of every seed

But the people still warm the day with the hot smoke

The cold may still lock the eyes of every seed

But the people still warm the day with the hot smoke

And the cold may still lock up the eyes of every seed

And the cold may still lock up the eyes of every seed

And the cold may still lock up the eyes of every seed

But the people opened the throats of the firecrackers with laughter

And so, in a few days

The willows softly tied green knots

And the river became watery

The grasses could not hold on to the sleeves of the flowers

Everywhere there would be the sound of the wet and warm birds

7. Modern Chinese New Year Poetry

Chinese New Year

When you're in a bustling city

All the lights are on

The sound of wine glasses

A smile of blessing is overflowing

I can see that there is a bright color in the sky outside the window

Whose firecrackers

Race past the thunderbolts

The air at this time is thin

The joy is thick and heavy.

Seems to be stretching its neck

With its suspicious smile

I don't know how to make up for my shyness

As a laborer

I'm thankful for the good weather

And for the barren land

That gives so much splendor and grace

To be comforted

So, the Spring Festival

is the best way to celebrate the New Year's Eve. Therefore, Spring Festival

shouldn't be a special treat

If you get carried away

You're bound to spoil her

So

Have a fat year

Have a good time

Let's set off some firecrackers

For luck

Here, let's drink to that

And pack up the luggage

Or the bulky tools

That's why we're so grateful for all this.

Or the bulky tools

Let's join hands

With the spring breeze, let's go on the road

8. Modern Poems about Spring Festival

Spring is forgotten, and no one's courtyard is empty on spring nights, and the wind sings softly in my dreams. Listening to the sound of someone's footsteps that have gone to the far corners of the world, and someone who is returning to his hometown, if there is a piece of moonlight on my pillow, I can't sleep tonight, just because there is still a silhouette of her in my heart that is dancing with my sad eyes. Every time I look up at the blue sky, the clouds drift to the place where the sun sets, every time I embrace the dark night, the stars twinkle in the distance, I want to shed a few tears under the lamp, but I'm afraid that they'll reflect the brokenness of yesterday's heart, and I leave the warmth of my soft bed, but I don't know who's waiting for me in spring, you're right there under the bright window, thinking of the love of spring, of the frost of autumn, and of the fragrance of all the sweet flowers, and I've already been waking up from my dreams, secretly weeping, quietly smiling, and slowly forgetting my own heart, and forgetting it to spring, and forgetting it to the candles of thoughts, and forgetting it to my heart. I've forgotten to give my heart to spring, to the candlelight of longing, or to the hope of loneliness.