Modern poetry of the evening breeze

1. Looking for modern poems, ancient poems and other ancient poems about dusk;

1. The fog is thick, the clouds are sad forever, the spirits are refreshing, and the golden beast disappears. The festival is also a double ninth festival, and the jade pillow gauze kitchen is half cold at night. Dongli drinks until dusk, and faint chrysanthemum fragrance overflows his sleeves. Do not die. West wind blinds, people are thinner than yellow flowers. -Li Qingzhao's "Drunken Flowers"

2. With the dusk shadow in my heart, I am driving in the tomb of Leyou. Sunset, infinitely beautiful, only near dusk. -Li Shangyin's "Leyou Tombs"

3. Your writing is quiet, and the bell and drum tower are long. Sitting alone in the dusk, who is the companion, Ziweihua vs Ziweilang. -Bai Juyi's "To Zhongshu Province"

4. Thousands of mountains and valleys are close to Jingmen, and girls grow up in Sri Lanka. She came out of the purple palace and entered the desert. Now she has become a green grave in the yellow dusk. -Du Fu's Five Poems about Historical Sites

The rocks are rough and the roads are very narrow. When I arrive at the temple, bats are at dusk. When I climbed the steps of the temple and sat down, there was a field soaked in rain. The rain made the branches and leaves of banana rough and the mountain was more beautiful. -Han Yu's Rock and Roll

6. The east wind blows water and the spring is long. Lovelorn, drunk, drunk in my dream. Her voice is silent, and her makeup in the evening is incomplete. Lingering in the scene, cherishing Zhu Yan, leaning alone in the dusk? -Li Yu's Ruan Langgui

7. The shadows are shallow and the dusk is fragrant. -Lin Bu's Xiao Mei in the Mountain Garden

8. Yellow flowers are all over the ground, withered and damaged. Who can pick them now? Looking out the window, how can you be black alone! Indus is drizzling, and at dusk, it is falling. This time, what a sad sentence! -Li Qingzhao's Slow Voice

Modern poetry:

At this time, I can't hear the powerful claws of the sun. Walking on the ground, it is dark at this moment, and it is dusk at this moment. The dusk at this time is like a peeled and dried skin. -Munk's dusk

2. Writing "wind" is a beautiful poetic style of modern poetry.

The wind caressed the crops, sometimes bent and sometimes lifted, as if the earth was breathing rhythmically, and the mature wheat was full of vitality. Where does the wind come from? There is a whisper among the wheat ears.

Dragon species in Zhang Xianliang

I keep my mouth shut, but the wind is like a powerful hand, choking my breath and forcing me to open my mouth from time to time. At this time, it will also raise a handful of dirt into my mouth, similar to a naughty child.

Yang Shuo's The Dust Settles.

spring breeze

On a bright afternoon in March, the air really blends together. A warm breeze is brewing somewhere, with an unpredictable drunkenness, which makes people feel strange and comfortable, but at the same time it seems to be in a daze trying to snuggle up with space.

Ni Yide's first love

The spring breeze in February, warm and humid during the day, blows on the face, but it is a bit like the smell of cotton tidbits blowing on the face; But at night, especially late at night, it's a bit like scissors. The night wind fluttered on the beach, and the willow trees on the beach danced hard with her tender and oily branches like drunk.

Five waterwheels in Lee Joon

"Blow your face without cold willows" is good, like a mother's hand stroking you. The wind brought the smell of new ploughing, mixed with the smell of grass, and the fragrance of various flowers, all brewing in the slightly humid air.

Zhu Ziqing's Spring

Overnight, the spring breeze came. Suddenly, it rolled in from the vast grasslands and deserts outside the Great Wall. Jumping over the ravine, over the ridge, into the ravine, irrigating the mountain pass, screaming and blowing the horn, roaring and roaring, flying sand and stones, flapping on the window, flapping on Sarah's face, like countless needles.

Spring breeze in Lin Jinlan

Summer wind

The wind is coming.

First of all, a gentle breeze blew from the northwest beach, gently rolled up Nightcrawler's skirt and teased the dead leaves on the road. There was a slight rustle in the wilderness. After a while, the wind was very strong, and the sorghum on the roadside swayed wildly, and the dead branches on the trees fell off one after another. A terrible howl came from the distant wilderness and the clouds became deeper. The rumbling thunder seems to have rushed out of the heavy encirclement of dark clouds, and it is like an explosion, rolling in from the northwest.

On the banks of the Jun Qing at dawn.

Summer evening. Waves of gentle little north wind floated from Wanda Valley and swept Mudanjiang, blowing the fragrance in the orchard, the coolness on the river and the slightest waves into Longquan Town, Jiang Nanan. Gradually, the heat and noise in the town subsided. Poplars and weeping willows on the roadside, lilacs and begonia in the yard, all woke up from the drowsiness in the hot summer. The breeze rustled among the green leaves and the flowers floated quietly under the eaves. Everything is pleasant and quiet. The whole town lined up along the river, like a giant lying on his back, is using all its body and mind to feel the elegance of the evening breeze and enjoy the faint fragrance and moist coolness in the wind.

Lucky man in Liu Yazhou.

autumn wind

The autumn wind, like a stroke of genius, painted the mountains and forests in Xing 'an Mountains with golden yellow, crimson, pale pink and mottled dark green. The annual Wanghuashan season has arrived. This month, the river is particularly cold, and the slight waves are flashing. The sky is particularly clear, with only a few faint clouds. You see, the dense tall cypresses and golden crowns on the cliff are like clouds of Huang Chengcheng smoke; Oak branches scattered on the slope beam are like piles of red and bright bonfires. Birch trees covered in gullies and valleys are like clouds and snow.

In the autumn forest, everything is full of mysterious and deep colors.

Jia Fei's snow shakes blue

The cold wind in late autumn swept the yellow grass with light snow and flew into the distance. The drooping cloud kissed its sister-the gray smoke dancing in the wind. But we love this bleak autumn wind. In its deep and desolate singing, we heard perseverance and unyielding, and felt the strength and struggle of life, ideal poetry and youthful passion.

Kobayashi's farewell

A cool autumn wind blew off withered catalpa bungeana leaves. Ye Can doesn't like to follow suit. Then, the wind whirled, rushed into the village from the mountain and swept into the yard from the street. The leaves rustled as if they were crying sadly.

Feng Deying's "Kucaihua"

Winter wind

1February 4th is Santa Barbara Day, which is a festival to protect Santa Barbara whose soul died in heaven. Immediately after the Santa Barbara Festival, the first sudden and chaotic winter wind blew. The wind is flying on the ground, barking like a hound chasing a smelly track. The wind tore at the cultivated fields, roared around the jungle, scraped the snow, tore off the branches of the orchard, ran along the road and smelled the bromine in the stream; It didn't take much effort for the wind to destroy all the simple thatched roofs and fences everywhere. After that, the wind still roared, but fled to the forest. After the gale, in the evening, several huge winds emerged from the darkness; A long, pointed wind tongue sticks out from a wheezing mouth.

3. A touch of sunset glow on the horizon.

Text: faint fragrant plum

The fields are quiet.

The mist covered vilen with a veil.

The wind is still blowing everywhere.

Weeds are swaying in the evening breeze.

The birds in the forest have returned to their nests.

Birds are whispering in the tree.

***********

Twilight pervades the earth.

The sunset glow is still reflected on the lake

Cows are pacing leisurely on the grass.

Fantastic Yuan Ye

Red leaves are still jumping there.

It is dotted with loneliness.

Make the earth full of hope.

***********

An uninhabited wilderness

The wind conveys sadness.

This silent Shan Ye.

No smoke and no villages.

This place is full of loneliness.

This is a bit confusing.

I don't know where to go.

***********

I want to escape from the lonely wind

break away from

A touch of sunset glow on the horizon

Seek a little warmth

Looking at the vast sky.

This cold late autumn

Full of imagination about life.

***********

Wild chrysanthemums are still emitting fragrance.

I walked alone on the path.

Look at this silent vilen.

Experience the sadness of late autumn

I just want to revel in the sunset glow.

Walk into the boundless wilderness

Face the wind and feel the distance.

sunset glow

Sunset in a narrow pane

Transmission is like a gloomy building.

Simplicity on the ceiling

In a square grid that feels strange,

The vague pattern belongs to us tenderly.

Faint thoughts and hazy soft dreams.

I woke up in the blink of an eye.

Missing and soft dreams are broken.

The crimson sunset glow unconsciously turned into a sad moonlight,

The cold glass still exists.

It's just that the pillow is soaked through.

Helpless, lonely night talking to me.

I don't know when the sunset is.

What can I see when I open my eyes?

Only endless darkness. ...

4. Modern poems about late summer and early autumn to the sun: the day when the cold wind invaded the bone marrow.

Reminds me of late summer and early autumn.

There was a lotus leaf field at that time.

There was a warm sunset then.

I put away my nostalgia.

Rub close to your face

have a breath of fresh air

Fluttering in the night breeze of memory

Lotus green

Always moving through life.

No one can change it.

She arrived as scheduled.

Then, there will be a familiar scare.

There will be a sweet seal.

Bloom a little in the warm wind

Dewdrops of hope twinkled on the leaves.

If you disappear in Chuyang.

That's the smell of them approaching you.

When the appointed day comes,

They will come true again.

Every quiet and intimate word between you and me

5. Describe modern poetry in the dead of night,

I stand on a high mountain,

Looking up at the bright moon,

It got into the clouds.

Mom, mom,

Do you know that?/You know what?

Do you miss your son's tears?

1 dead of night,

I stood at the mouth of the surging Yellow River,

Listen to the sound of the waves,

Staring at the starry sky affectionately,

The evening breeze is slow,

How can it be?

How can it brush away the endless homesickness of wanderers?

It is dead of night again.

In addition to the sounds of nature

Ring in my ear

Already asleep.

And your own heartbeat.

Always think at this time.

do sth.

Such a quiet moment

What else is there besides missing?

So I miss it.

People or things that miss the past

Family or friendship?

Beauty or happiness

Let my body and mind

Are immersed in warm memories.

It seems that I have really grown up.

I quietly forgot.

So much unhappiness

Like it never happened.

So happiness always follows me.

Makes me relaxed and happy.

It's already happened, dear

Even if it is a great misfortune.

What remedial measures are there?

Maybe it was unintentional when I fell.

Maybe someone tripped.

But honey, it's all over.

We still have to hurry.

Things in this world

No problem.

Nothing. Just nothing.

What are you talking about?

Use one's conscience

To warm the world.

Pale and weak

But I tried my best to do it

The so-called morality sometimes makes people

Can't tell the direction

Let your mind

More unstable

So I just don't do it.

It was already dark at this time.

There may be a heavy rain.

Maybe nothing.

People are used to it.

6. Xue sends a friend a modern poem for you, please refer to it!

It was windy last night,

Knocking on my cold window.

The cold hands in the room played the warm current in my heart,

Flowing on the keyboard.

Get up and look at the moon,

Xing Han dazzled the southern sky.

It's still early,

It is snowing,

Just for love.

Looking up at the bright moon,

The moon is silent.

The stars in the sky,

Can you teleport my thoughts?

The vast sky,

Blink silently.

Looking south at the sky,

Looking at the northern sky,

Looking at the same sky.

Look up,

Magpies fly to the south at night.

It should be safe to be cold in the north and warm in the south.

It's just that my heart is broad.

Who said that there is no confidant in the long road,

A thousand miles of friends lead a string.

Where is the bosom friend in my life?

Unforgettable past lives

In the middle of the net,

It's hard to meet

Looking at the other side of the screen,

My heart is wandering.

Although it is cold in winter and the sky is bright,

A sincere message rippled from all my hearts.

You write poetry,

I write lyrics,

Wandering in the south and north seas,

Only poetry is hot.

Put your head back,

Ren Zhu's tears came out.

Red dust,

Don't forget each other in this life

7. Modern Poetry with the theme of "Time is like a song" and "Time is like a song" Thirty years ago, you came to this world with tears like everyone else. At that time, you were like our respective children, watery, simple and carefree. Twenty years ago, you were in your prime. I always imagine how many teenagers are fascinated by your beautiful eyes, and how many people are thinking: the world is destroyed, as long as you were still there ten years ago. Inadvertently, you are like a lotus flower in the Tang Dynasty, which crashed into my quiet dream. Since then, my valley is no longer calm. Happiness and suffering converge on this red land. Now, the years are like songs. I am getting old. What remains unchanged is that I still often look forward to meeting unexpectedly in the vast sea of people, and you are still beautiful. Or heartbreaking snow. Snowflakes are poetic, and our hearts are full of poetry.

At this moment, Santa Claus is coming from a distant foreign land, to us, to you, to me and to our colorful life with his good wishes and blessings ... years are like poems, years are like songs. In the past days, we cultivated, sowed and harvested in the country of poetry: we cultivated years, cultivated life ... we sowed friendship, love and beauty ... we harvested sunshine, poetry and sweetness ... "If winter comes, can spring be far behind?" Although the poet named Shelley has long since left us, his poems always bring us hope and warmth in every cold winter.

Every day the sun is new and every spring is bright, so we have reason to believe that our poetry world and our spiritual home will surely usher in a better spring after the cold winter! Born in spring, grown in summer, harvested in autumn and stored in winter. Beyond 2006, we look forward to New Year's Day, which represents a new starting point.

We celebrate the New Year, a festival full of vigilance. Let's be grateful for the wonderful life, the hope of life and the beauty of life with a grateful heart! The new year is about to begin, and new hopes are about to open. New blanks will carry new dreams, and we like them. We also cherish the ebb and flow of the tide; Flowers bloom and fall, and we are equally grateful.

Let's be grateful for years, life, poetry and the coming year of 2009! Time is like a song (1). Bitter youth is blown away by the wind. Memories are wet with rain. Deep grief was lost in the snow. The yellow diary cries alone in one silent night after another. Then, it was blown dry by the wind of the years. (2) Sadness is a grain of sand that falls into your eyes. Only tears can wash it away. (3) If death is a tragedy, everyone's life will come to an end. (4) What touched me the most was the familiar notes in my memory, which turned into tears at the moment when they struck my heart. (5) Time cannot go back. Time will take it away. Time changes. After many years, when we turn over the bitter page of youth again, the sadness and sorrow have already vanished, and we will laugh and sigh: (6) This is life. (6) In the summer evening, I occasionally feel that the leaves are thin, the blue waves are clear, and the wind is as light as smoke. (7) God always puts a beautiful coat on an ugly soul, and then says sadly: It's fair at last. However, he didn't expect that the world was often deceived by that beautiful coat, and he was helpless. (8) The last afterglow of the sunset is put away, the evening breeze blows a ripple on the lake, and the autumn frost sees the last goose. I stood quietly by the lake, my eyes drifting away from distant memories. At the moment when the tears condensed, I locked my memory in an iron box and buried it with the dust of the years. (9) How can I bear to see those promises that have peeled off in the years? Just like the green leaves once covered with branches falling in the cold north wind, the sand sculpture standing on the beach disappears in the biting sea breeze. (10) It's rainy in spring, the clouds are rolling and the sky is obscure, and Qian Shan is full of water, which is the first sight of the day. This scene is very safe, afraid of climbers, and very hard. Yan (1) Although this road has taken my thoughts far away, the familiar evening breeze has brought her to my side. The willow branches reflected rosy clouds in the sunset, which made me see your shawl hair. The red lake in the sunset reminds me of your reddish cheeks. The melodious songs that spread far away are my deep thoughts for you. Time is like a song, suddenly looking back-in a blink of an eye, a thousand years have passed, and the years are like a song. And what is left in your heart? I overheard a faint old song. What made you cry and feel dejected? What is it-it often sneaks into your lonely heart on wet nights? What is it-it occasionally hurts your sensitive and fragile heart? Ah-my friend has passed a thousand years in a flash, and I have forgotten all the joys and sorrows in the world, but why can't I let go? Time is like a song because of the lingering sound.

What remains deep in your heart and mine is still-those-your happiness and my sadness.

8. Describe the West Chamber with modern poems and bid farewell to the West Chamber.

Gudaobian

The grass is blue and the sky is blue.

The evening breeze helps the willow flute sound residual.

Sunset mountain outside the mountain

The horizon of heaven

World's Most Beautiful Mountains

Good friends are half separated.

A pot of muddy wine is perfect.

Say goodbye to Meng Han tonight.

Changting wai

Gudaobian

The grass is blue and the sky is blue.

The evening breeze helps the willow flute sound residual.

Sunset mountain outside the mountain

The horizon of heaven

World's Most Beautiful Mountains

Good friends are half separated.

A pot of muddy wine is perfect.

Say goodbye to Meng Han tonight.

Changting wai

Gudaobian

The grass is blue and the sky is blue.

The evening breeze helps the willow flute sound residual.

Sunset mountain outside the mountain

9. Modern poems about "Spring Rain" know the rainy season, but spring happens.

Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently. Pastoral notes Hu (1) foreign green hills and shade, with jasmine fragrance on the fence; Gold honors the bosom friend, and the grass house palace surrounds the beam. (2) Kites fly and swallows dance in the season, and the mountains are covered with green trees and red flowers; Away from the depths of the wilderness, the road turns to Xiqiao snail's house.

(3) Sitting on the railing in the dark, collecting the night breeze from the mountain pavilion; The bright moon hangs like a hook, and the beauty plays the flute skillfully. (4) In the middle of the night, the smoky wind moves in the dark, and the insects are slowly chirping; And the clothes sleep quietly, and the drizzle moistens silently.

(5) The night sky is full of stars and fireflies are shining; The boudoir is still there, and the courtyard is deeply bolted. (6) In spring, Li Guang spreads and everything is born; The clouds are light and the wind is clear, and the flowers are fresh and fragrant.

(7) Looking for spring and enjoying the grass, the light goose yellow is swaying; Purple swallows dance vigorously, and fish and ducks swim in the water to catch up with the tide. (8) Dancing heartstrings with the wind, jubilant and carefree; The drizzle is whispering, and the virtuous orchid is quiet.

(9) Everyone knows that spring is early and peach blossoms are in full bloom; Miscellaneous English shows a demon show, and leeks are green.