Modern poems about Tang suit

1. Modern poetry has four short paragraphs, each with four lines

"Youth" by Xi Murong

All the endings have been written

But suddenly I forgot what kind of beginning it was

In that ancient summer that will never come back

No matter how I pursue it

Young man just passes by like a cloud shadow

And your smiling face is very light and pale

Gradually disappearing in the day The backward Qunlan

then opened the yellowed title page

Fate bound it extremely poorly

With tears in my eyes, I read it again and again

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But I have to admit

Youth is a book that is too hasty

Modern poetry does not strictly adhere to the format, unlike the strict rhythm of old-style poetry 2. Ask for a catchy poem Catchy modern poetry

Modern Poetry The lakeside in winter is already desolate, without the lushness of summer, nor the fragrant fragrance of flowers. The sparse woods seem to tell the story of the lushness it once had. I can't feel it. The warm wind of summer blows on the sleeves, and there is no longer the lingering lights and shadows in the lake, or the ecstasy whispers of summer insects. The flowing light of Gui Po is already an old dream. The years slip away from melancholy and longing, and end in lingering. The cold wind holds my arms. The skinny branches are dancing a farewell dance sadly, a heart-gnawing pain is devouring my soul, and the passing years have hid in the graves to sing. The frozen lake surface is like sprinkles scattered all over the ground under the cold moonlight. Crystal, sparkling with a sad and beautiful shimmer. The water will melt quietly when it freezes, but it will leave a pool of clear tears of lovesickness. An old and dark ancient ship slowly approaches my sight. The leaves are metallic. The chorus sounds and reaches our hearts, becoming wordless butterflies dancing at dusk, the leaves move in all directions like my group of brothers, far away from music and the celebration of roses, no longer singing for wandering, but I can't escape the frost in the dusk with the crow of jackdaws. The last and first peak of my station is submerged. The bird feathers are scattered due to the cold wind. The road home is very long, even further than the hometown of the leaves. The dusk stops at the bottom of the dry water, within reach. In the dim glow, I am A remaining yellow leaf, a word deleted by the autumn wind, and such persistence in the autumn dusk. There is only one direction. This only road and purpose destined all my efforts just so that I can successfully reach a place sharper than teeth before the night. I don’t need to be deeply moved by tears. The leaves are like a powerful army leading the rapid evacuation of autumn. I walked through a cemetery under the sunset and saw the sun kissing the late-blooming flowers skillfully in a far distance. I also vaguely heard a flower. The golden stamens fell brilliantly into the girl's eyes, and a few branches of fragrant dreams bloomed, illuminating the autumn night fog. Milky white things floated by, like clouds and milk.

Hu'er sticks together, Hu'er separates, traveling aimlessly through the tall building rooms. Her name is Wu.

When fog comes on the road, everyone’s face is covered with tiny water droplets; when fog comes to the fields, every wheat seedling is covered with a looming veil; when fog comes, In the study, every book is covered with a wet "mask"; when the fog comes to the forest, every tree is surrounded by a mysterious veil... Fog, beautiful fog, naughty fog , happy fog, magical fog... 3. Ancient poetry, modern poetry and foreign poetry

If you see me, or if you don’t see me, I will be there. I will not be sad or happy. Love me, love is there, neither increasing nor decreasing, you follow me, or if you don't follow me, my hand is in your hand, never give up, never give up, come into my arms, or let me live in your heart, love each other in silence, silence and joy - Cang Yang Gyatso's "Lotus" I am a blooming Xia Heduo, I hope you can see me now It is the most beautiful moment, but the heavy door has been locked behind the fragrant smile. Who knows my lotus's thoughts? You are not destined, either you come too early or you come too late___Xi Murong, you are the April day in the world - - A Praise of Love Lin Huiyin I say you are April in the world; your laughter lights up the wind in all directions; your lightness dances and changes in the brightness of spring.

You are the clouds in the morning of April, the soft wind blows at dusk, the stars twinkle inadvertently, and the fine raindrops are sprinkled in front of the flowers. That light, that Ting, you are the crown of fresh flowers and flowers you wear, you are innocent and solemn, you are the full moon every night.

The goose yellow after the snow melts, you are like the fresh green with the first buds, you are the soft and joyful white lotus floating in the water in your dream. You are the flowers blooming on each tree, you are the swallows whispering between the beams, - you are love, warmth, hope, you are April in the world.