Where are you about Iris's poem?

Goddess of the rainbow

Please keep silent and never answer me again.

After all, I must leave this tenderness and clarity.

Spring with a breezy face

It's bright, meticulous and tireless.

A world in which all life processes are presented.

Even if it is an effort to expand the small joy.

Concentrate on taste.

The happiness of peace is prolonged as much as possible.

And then between the starting point and the end point

The mysterious distance is still unmeasurable.

This boundless loneliness must be shouldered.

All the memories are not far from me.

In the silent forest, the traces of moss that we have walked through are reflected.

But there is an uncertain mood, even if it is

I found the right word, and I gradually lost control.

Finally, I am yours.

Like the purple iris in spring.

After all, we still have to turn our backs on each other.

(and at the moment, it is beautiful in an extreme time. It's finally a masterpiece. )

References:

Xi Murong's Poems

2. Poems describing iris are not necessarily calamus flowers, but only born in Shicheng.

Nature makes your eyes see all beings.

How I wish I could see you.

But you can't.

On such a desolate and silent sandbar

The weather has cleared up.

The wind turned cold when we left.

All thoughts and actions are gradually becoming dull.

What kind of dusk will it be?

At the moment, cattail flowers are still blooming at will.

There are clusters everywhere.

To the world around you

Show her enthusiasm, her little heart

From pure white to blue-purple

It's like telling a story I've been longing for all my life.

Please let the soul of the flower die before leaving the branch.

Let me stay for a while.

Time has changed from love to tyranny.

The difference between these transformations is very small.

So it is very sharp.

Especially when I used to

How I wish I could see you.

3. Poetry about Iris/October Blue Flower, an Iris. Gently, emitting a fresh fragrance. On a colorful summer day, you smiled, not because the sneer of the rose beside you was charming, nor because the peony was generous and beautiful. Your smile is bright and simple, just like the smiling face of a child in June. Harmony, love for summer, expectation for summer. However, in this gorgeous pink season, only the butterfly shadow protects the flowers and plants around you, but it doesn't pick honey from you alone; Soft moonlight caresses the petals beside you, but leaves you alone in the lonely night. On a cold and sad morning, round dew, with tiredness, dripped on your petite petals and turned into crystal clear and lonely tears. Iris, you also long for your own butterfly and touch your own flower and moon. However, that tearful morning, a faint cool breeze blew the bleak autumn, and the flowers fell, but I couldn't bear to watch you wither and wither and be buried in the autumn soil painfully. If I were a butterfly, I would take you off cruelly and protect that bright smile forever; If I were the moon, I would burn you decisively, take away your fragrance, and together with that lonely love, seal it deeply and sprinkle it with the soft moonlight that never dies. Perhaps, this is my eternal and selfish fantasy.

Goddess of the rainbow

1 at night, in the wind, on the edge of the rain,

I found five irises, and I said they were lovely.

Like a woman, once, lying beside them.

Then wake up, get up, walk away and let your hair linger.

Memories on their sweet tongues.

I really want to tear off these petals with my teeth.

I really want to study these hairy selves,

Their beauty and indifference. they

Hold your breath all your life

Open, open.

2

We are not lovers, brothers and sisters,

Although we strolled through the hall hand in hand

When thoughts and desires

Extinguish, in this dream of life,

In this sleeping life, we die awake-

Purple turns blue, turn

Black, black, all these.

Pray by iris,

When she prayed for her home.

& lt/p & gt；

4. Poetry about Iris/October Blue Flower, an Iris.

Gently, emitting a fresh fragrance. On a colorful summer day, you smiled, not because the sneer of the rose beside you was charming, nor because the peony was generous and beautiful.

Your smile is bright and simple, just like the smiling face of a child in June. Harmony, love for summer, expectation for summer.

However, in this gorgeous pink season, only the butterfly shadow protects the flowers and plants around you, but it doesn't pick honey from you alone; Soft moonlight caresses the petals beside you, but leaves you alone in the lonely night. On a cold and sad morning, round dew, with tiredness, dripped on your petite petals and turned into crystal clear and lonely tears.

Iris, you also long for your own butterfly and touch your own flower and moon. However, that tearful morning, a faint cool breeze blew the bleak autumn, and the flowers fell, but I couldn't bear to watch you wither and wither and be buried in the autumn soil painfully.

If I were a butterfly, I would take you off cruelly and protect that bright smile forever; If I were the moon, I would burn you decisively, take away your fragrance, and together with that lonely love, seal it deeply and sprinkle it with the soft moonlight that never dies. Perhaps, this is my eternal and selfish fantasy.

Iris 1 night, in the wind, on the edge of the rain, I found five irises, I call them lovely. Like a woman, once, she lay down beside them, then woke up, got up and walked away, her hair lingering on their sweet tongues.

I really want to tear off these petals with my teeth. I really want to study these hairy selves, their beauty and indifference.

They hold their breath all their lives, then open, open. We are not lovers, nor brothers and sisters. Although when our thoughts and desires go out, we walk hand in hand in the hall, trembling, but in this dream of life, in this sleeping life, we wake up and die-purple turns blue, black, black-all this is what a iris prayed for, and when she prayed, it was her home.

5. Don't mislead others. Acorus calamus and iris are not the same flower. Acorus calamus is much taller than iris, and its leaves are different. It grows by the water. Their flowering periods are also different. Iris blooms in this season, that is, from April to May, and Acorus calamus blooms in June.

Some people usually call some iris plants Acorus calamus, but this is just a common name, which is not standardized. The real Acorus calamus is a Araceae plant with a candle-like rod-shaped inflorescence, which is yellowish brown and blooms in summer and autumn. Perhaps because their leaves are similar in texture, some iris plants like calamus like to grow near the water, and there is another plant very similar to iris called gladiolus (common fresh cut flower).

As for the required archaism, it is generally rare in China's ancient poems. But there will be more in Greek mythology. For example, iris in Greek mythology means "rainbow". Although iris originated in China, it is the national flower of France. And personally, I think it's beautiful in Brazil or France.

Iris will be used more in modern literature. For example, Xi Murong, Shu Ting and Annie Baby all prefer iris, and iris can be seen in many of her articles.

Goddess of the rainbow

Xi Murong

Please keep silent and never answer me again.

After all, I must leave this tenderness and clarity.

Spring with a breezy face

It's bright, meticulous and tireless.

A world in which all life processes are presented.

Even if it is an effort to expand the small joy.

Concentrate on taste.

The happiness of peace is prolonged as much as possible.

And then between the starting point and the end point

The enigmatic distance is still unmeasurable.

(This boundless loneliness, this necessary burden)

All the memories are not far from me.

In the silent forest, the traces of moss that we have walked through are reflected.

But there is an uncertain mood, even if it is

I found the right word, and I gradually lost control.

In the end, I will support you.

Like the purple iris in spring.

After all, we still have to turn our backs on each other.

(And this moment is an extreme moment. It's finally a masterpiece. )

This is the sentence from beginning to end in that word or poem.

Xia xiaoqi

I drink pure water all night.

I listen to soothing jazz.

Touch the dusty vinyl record.

I watch heavy literary movies.

I look for the Big Dipper in the night sky.

You sing in my heart, and your song ripples.

I use lavender men's CK perfume.

I am wearing a gorgeous shirt.

In the dark, I am a lame clown, making everyone laugh.

I write strange words.

I sing out-of-tune songs,

At night, my tears fell quietly and flowed into my heart.

I laugh at those who walk,

I hate those mean people.

You are worse than a ghost and uglier than a glutton.

I smoke cheap cigarettes.

I use an old telephone.

Dial your number again and again, but you hang up again and again.

I laughed and laughed and cried and cried. Tears dry up and smoke goes out. Embrace your trembling body. You said, let go. They're watching.

I was watching, too. I saw you fighting with those people. I saw you hug them.

I saw you walk into the hotel with them and throw yourself into their arms.

You called me a liar.

I secretly called you a bitch.

I don't like canned pineapples,

You're not Wong Kar-wai.

I hate the montage of you around me.

We can only smile at each other.

Today, I raised flowers. The blue flowerpot is cactus, and the red flowerpot is crape myrtle.

Who are these flowers for? Why do you like them?

The so-called beauty leaves only absinthe.

When the iris is in full bloom, I know you picked it for yourself.