Modern poems describing dusk

Modern poems about dusk 1. Look for modern poems and ancient poems about dusk.

Ancient poetry:

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. Modern poetry about the night

Poetry 1: Night

Fatigue with all the light.

Shake a star

Light up the heart of dreams

No more begging for scenery

Let silence live in tears

Tolerate the ugliness planted by light

Light a moon.

Mark the darkness of the world

Fill the storm of the past

Here's to loneliness in the light.

Collect light

He Shan is still very tired.

Wake up messenger

Please let the light circulate again.

be accompanied by

Fly away together.

Poetry 2: Singing the Night

The stars in the night sky outside the window don't twinkle

Listen to the loneliness of the Iraqi people

He Chenghuan missed each other.

Want to leave a wry smile.

This wish vanished with the spring breeze.

No, love and sadness broke the world.

The road to the end of the world is slow.

I only hate love.

Poetry 3: Night

outside the window

Crickets play divine comedy.

Arouse the loneliness of the night sky

But I don't know who it is for.

Who can understand?

Dark night sky

Without the embellishment of stars

There is no moon.

It's particularly deserted here.

who is it?

Since when?

Steal ornaments

But no one knows.

Tired grass

Surrounded by age-old ideas

Strong foundation

Waiting for the memory of the past

Yellow mottle

But I have broken my heart.

The dying dream was diluted.

In silence

calmly

Buried in the silent night sky

Poetry 4: Night Thoughts

I close the curtains.

Close the night outside the window.

Turn on the light, my world is in full bloom.

Illuminate a string of thoughts hanging on the wall

My hometown is too far away to go back.

I went back to my heart.

The world is empty.

Only the mind never gives up.

Left or right or backward

Right and wrong inside and outside.

The heart becomes suspended Tai Chi.

Only time is big and medium.

The process of measuring life

Without explaining their respective meanings.

It starts at each end.

Good is close to evil.

Love turns and hates shadows.

Indulgence or humility, silence or repentance

Only attitude is the original mother color, like light.

That night, my eyes lit up myself.

This night, the lights held me carefully.

Not swallowed up by darkness

Poetry 5: Night

Flowers bloom and fall,

Clouds are rolling and clouds are comfortable.

On a hot summer night,

My heart is surging.

Thinking,

What kind of life path should I take?

Poetry 6: Nightdream

The stars are twinkling.

Smile in the gloom of the night

My thoughts are focused on looking out of the window.

Worry piled up into a residual letter.

Poetry was shattered into a dream in the dark.

Hanging in the night sky

The darkness of the sky wrapped me up.

Fluctuating emotions demarcate the night.

A faint scent woke up a dream outside the dust.

Tears are hidden behind the smile.

Cutting dust is endless sorrow.

Piece together a water lotus on the heart lake

Luo's skirt is swaying in the water.

Every point is my gentle talk.

……

3. What are the modern poems describing the sunset?

1. Goodbye sunset

Author: the world of poetry and magic

Another sunset and dusk

Look up unintentionally

I seem to see your face again.

The feeling of deja vu is a bit incomplete.

What are you talking about?

It's loneliness at the end of the song

Or the last carnival at the end of life

Once countless times

Gaze affectionately

Think I'm close to you

It's getting farther and farther away.

Obsessed with your beautiful face

But I still can't see through the melancholy in your eyes

You hide your sadness in your heart.

Like a solid wall.

It makes me hesitate but look forward to it.

How can I get close to you

How can I touch your haggard face?

How can I melt the glacier of your heart forever?

The end of every night

Will usher in the dawn

That's your most beautiful smile

This seems to be your last strength.

The gear of the years

Took away my youth and frivolity.

But it doesn't change my deep attachment to you.

That little bit of disappointment, missed again and again.

You have fallen asleep, I didn't sleep with flowers.

2. The hope of sunset

Author: Late autumn night is still early.

In the evening, the sky is enjoying itself.

There are a few lazy clouds on the horizon, like chatting neighbors.

In the shade of the tree, the laughter and laughter after a noisy day gradually became sparse.

On the street, there is a couple who are in love hand in hand.

On the lake, a small group of ducks do not swim leisurely during the day.

Sunset, exhausted all the afterglow to vent its lingering attachment.

at once

The whole world is stained with the blood of the sunset.

The setting sun reflected on me.

The old couple's love for swimming home and helping each other is dazzling.

The sun went down.

Although it is infinitely missed, it can't compete with the replacement of stars.

finally

The love of sunset is the wrong pay after all.

3. In the sunset

Author: Daoye

Noisy as dust.

Vines invade in all directions.

I rode on the edge of the noise to find it.

Crows fly at dusk on the old trees with rotten vines;

Tiny bridge,flowing brook,hamlet homes

And a little Hong Fei.

It has long been a myth.

The west wind blows.

The afterglow is dim.

In the sunset

Heartbroken people shine at the end of the world.

It's just that thin horses have lost weight for nearly a thousand years.

It has long been a corroded skeleton.

4. "A touch of sunset"

Author: anonymous

Standing on the plateau in winter

I still don't have a poem.

A touch of sunset

Sprinkle afterglow

Some emotional past

Breeding in germinated soil

Dreams are poetic.

Red and white

Achieve some characters

Far from the secular world

Write with heart

Seize every chapter

Don't be too demanding.

Circle the wonderful moments

Scribbled ink

cause and effect

5. Sunset

Author: anonymous

The lonely bird flapped its wings and smoked out.

Sunset on the horizon will not fall on the treetops.

Who spilled ink on a beautiful painting?

Be dazzled by the beautiful sky

White-headed reed by the river

Also painted red.

4. Are there any modern poems about dusk?

Faint Author: The dusk in Ji Xianlin is mysterious. As long as people can live one more day, there will be a dusk at the end of this day.

However, as the years roll and the months roll, they have countless days to live and countless nights. I want to ask: how many people are aware of this dusk? -In the morning, when the residual dream flew out of the pillow, they woke up and started a day's walk.

They walked and walked until noon, when the road suddenly turned. It seems that they just slipped away until the end of the day. When they saw the white smoke in the distance, the treetops were lightly coated with a layer of golden yellow. When flocks of crows flew back with the sun at dusk, something seemed to be gently pressing on their hearts.

They knew that night was coming. They are eager for rest; Longing for the arrival of dreams.

Soon, the dim night covered their eyes and hearts. They are busy in the low hut, closing the door at dusk. If someone asks: Have you ever seen dusk? The evening was beautiful, but they were at a loss.

How can they not be at a loss When they leaned out of the cliff to look for dusk, dusk disappeared with the disappearance of white smoke, the golden color on the treetops and the sun color on the crow's back. Only the hazy night is left.

This evening, like a light dream on a spring night, came at an unknown time, swept their hearts and disappeared at an unknown time. I left at dusk.

Where did it go? No, I asked first: Where does dusk come from? I can't say for sure. Who knows? Can't catch the dusk, ask to the end.

From the east? The east is where the sun rises. From the west? Isn't there hongxia in the west? From the south? There is only light and heat in the south, so it seems most appropriate to say that it comes from the north.

If we think about it and think that the end of the North Pole is the Arctic Ocean, we can draw a picture of a white world, a white snow field and a white iceberg in our imagination. Further north, on the white horizon, you can't tell which is the sky, which is the ground, which is the ice and which is the snow, just a hazy gray.

Shouldn't the hazy gray dusk degenerate from here? However, it degenerated, but it spread. Overflow the plains and grasslands, leaving shadows; Overflow the forest, leaving a gloomy darkness, overflow the stream, melt the dark gray twilight into the water, and the water surface shines faintly in silence; Overflow the top of the mountain, leaving them the light of the stars and the light of the moon; Through the village, I left the boundless twilight smoke ... I tore a piece from every corner and caught a spider web.

Later, I crossed the lonely desert and came to our country. I can imagine: if I stand in the desert and face the dusk, I can definitely see the dusk coming from the distant horizon. What is it like? It should be like gray fog, right? Or like a spreading cloud? Running, still just left a shadow, running, came to our country, with white smoke in the distance, with a faint golden color on the treetops, and with the color of the sunset crow's back, gently fell on people's hearts and was rejected by people.

However, outside the door, whether people care or not, it arranges a dreamy and poetic fairy tale world for them in a lonely and cold way. It is hazy and dim, just like a shadow reflected in a mirror, and it paints everything with a silver-gray dreamy color. The milk-colored air condenses like real milk.

But it seems to flow soft and thick. It brings silence, listen:-as quiet as midnight with heavy snow.

But dead? But no, a little more silence than now will turn into a grave. It seems that there is not much at all, not little at all. The beautiful and comfortable tranquility is soft and thick on people's hearts, and the gray sky is like a thin curtain. Trees, houses, smoke lines, clouds, all like silhouettes, quietly stick to this scene.

Here, there, dotted with the purple light of the sunset glow and the cold light of the little star. Dusk is really like a poem, a song and a fairy tale. Like the melodious flute from the moon building, there is a crane ringing in the sky; Like Shao wine aged for decades; I like everything that is too beautiful to say.

Can't say, can only see; Don't see enough, you can only understand; I can only admire and don't understand. -But it was finally rejected.

Shut people out. Did I say that? I have to be careful, because the so-called people are not all people, and they will never be all people. When I was a child, I often stayed in the courtyard and waited for dusk.

I'm not saying this to show that I am better than others. The meaning is simple: if others don't go, or don't want to go, go.

I (and others, of course) often do this at the right time. Often in summer, I sit on a short stool and see that the corner is getting dark, and the white walls around me are covered with a faint shadow.

In the darkness, the fragrance of cordate telosma seeped into my heart in waves. Bats fly in the sky.

The cobwebs on the eaves reflect the gray sky, and in the hazy, you can also count the lines on the internet and the bodies of mosquitoes and flies stuck to it. Suddenly, inadvertently looked up again, and the shiny little star was embedded in the dark gray sky.

In winter, the patio is covered with snow. I curled up in the room.

When I saw the white window paper turning gray, the flame in the stove became redder and brighter during the day. I will also know that it is dusk.

I looked out through the gap in the baffle: the gray sky, the gray roof covered with snow. The half-curved bleak cool moon is printed in the sky, although it is a bit bleak; But still can't hide the beauty of dusk.

At this time, even people who often sit in the patio waiting for it to come have to curl up in the room. There is only gray snow outside the deserted door. Who is this hazy world made for? Don't you feel lonely at dusk? But loneliness won't last long.

We still have to leave at dusk. Li Shangyin said in his poem: "to see the sun, for all his glory was buried in the coming night."

Isn't the poet lamenting that dusk can't stay long? I really can't stay long. In a blink of an eye, this dusk is like a light dream, which only sweeps in people's hearts, leaving a dark night and leaving with its loneliness. Go, really go.

5. Modern poetry about the night

Poetry 1: Night bears all the fatigue of light, shakes a star to light up the heart of dreams, and no longer begs for scenery. Let live quietly in tears and tolerate the ugliness planted by light. A full moon marks the darkness of the world, making the world full of loneliness under storms and lights. Let's drink to the collection of bright mountains and rivers. It is still very tired to arouse the emissary to invite the light to reincarnate and walk together in the eyes. Poetry 2: Sing the night outside the window, and the stars in the night sky don't flash. Listening to the loneliness of the Iraqi people and their desire for each other, I want to leave a wry smile. This wish can arouse the loneliness of the night sky by playing the divine comedy by cricket outside the night window, but I don't know for whom and who can understand the dark night sky. Without the embellishment of stars, it is particularly deserted. When did you steal ornaments, but no one knows? When did the tired grass surround you with long-term thoughts? Strong roots are waiting for memories, memories are yellow and mottled, but they have already cut through your thoughts. Your dream has been diluted and quietly buried in the poetry of the silent night sky. Four: Night thoughts: I close the curtain to separate the night from the window and turn on the light. My world is full of light, illuminating a string of thoughts hanging on the wall. My hometown is too far away to go back, so I will return to my inner world. It's just that my thoughts will never leave my left and right, otherwise my right and wrong heart will become a suspended Tai Chi. Only time can measure the progress of life, but I don't explain their respective meanings. It begins at each end of kindness and turns to the side of evil love, and hatred becomes a shadow of indulgence or humility. Quiet or penance, only attitude is the original mother color, like light. That night, my eyes lit up myself. That night, the light held me carefully, so as not to let me be swallowed up by the darkness. Poetry 5: Flowers bloom and flowers fall at night, and clouds roll and clouds are comfortable.

On a hot summer night, my heart swelled. Think about what life path I should take.

Poem 6: Dream at night, the stars blink and smile at night, and melancholy thoughts are concentrated in the overlooking window. Thoughts pile up into residues. Poetry shattered into a dream in the dark, and the black hanging in the night sky wrapped my fluctuating emotions into a thick night, swaying a fragrance outside the dust, making a dream with tears hidden behind my smile, and my sadness pieced together into a lotus skirt on the heart lake, swaying in the water, and every thread was my gentle talk.