How to write the crooked jokes in Cambridge again?

Just as when I came; When I came softly;

I got a wave of eight sous, and I waved my hand gently.

Stroll through the clouds of the western world. Say goodbye to the western clouds.

Golden willow by the bubble, golden willow by the river,

Is the wife in the sunset; Is the bride in the sunset;

Qian Qiu in the waves, Yingying in the waves,

My heart is bubbling. Ripple in my heart.

Buried the youth of eight stations, oily and swaying at the bottom of the water;

Oil baji's face in the water; In the gentle waves of He Kang River,

In the corner of He Kanghe River, I would like to be an aquatic plant!

I am willing to make a handful of absinthe. A pool in the shade of elm trees,

The one under the shade of the elm tree is not a clear spring,

Not mushrooms, but cat houses; It is the rainbow in the sky that is crushed in floating seaweed.

Precipitated the thief's dream of pulling a rainbow. Looking for dreams? Lift a long pole,

Gaga? Pull a broom and trace it to the greener part of the grass.

Tracing back to the green vegetable thief Qing Naga; Full of stars,

A whole bag of starlight, singing in the splendor of starlight.

I groaned under the starlight. But I can't play songs,

But I can't complain, it's a farewell party quietly;

Quietly, the music rolling in the calf; Summer insects are also silent for me,

Moths have faded for me, too. Silence is Cambridge tonight.

It has faded. It's Cambridge

I walked away foolishly,

When I scream;

I show off my sleeves in an ostentatious manner,

Don't take away a cloud!

Comrade Xu Zhimo likes one-night stands and doesn't want to be irresponsible.

The beginning of a poem

I left gently, just as I came gently-this is where the lover poet Xu Zhimo is, and this is Wan Li's solo. The image of a flower-picking poet with superb flying skills comes to the fore every night.

I waved gently and bid farewell to the cloud in the western world-Xu Zhimo waved and bid farewell to my former lover.

middle

The golden willow by the river is the bride in the sunset; The beautiful shadow in the waves is rippling in my heart-there is a bride named Liu Jin who got married at night but was taken by Xu Zhimo, and her heart seems to be rippling.

Green grass on the soft mud, oily, swaying at the bottom of the water; In the gentle waves of He Kanghe, I would like to be a water plant-I don't forget to talk sweetly with women when it is in full bloom. I would like to be a water plant, just like a folk song. I would like to be a lamb and let your whip gently beat me. This lyric has the same effect.

That pool under the shade of elm is not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky, broken in floating algae and precipitated a rainbow-like dream. Looking for dreams? Support a long pole, wander to a greener place on the grass, load a boat with splendor, and sing in splendor. -This is Lao Xu's success! And proudly wrote down some experiences and feelings when doing specific things. I heard that a modern writer was particularly inspired at this time and often put his notebook on the bedside table. I think the reason is the same.

But I can't play the piano, just a farewell flute; Summer insects are also silent for me. Silence is Cambridge tonight. -look, what is quality? Be careful, for fear of being discovered by others. Although I want to sing happily in my heart, I can't tell Lao Xu about my professional ethics. I can't expose my target and get caught.

The ending of a poem.

I left quietly, just as I came quietly-highlighting the characteristics, concealment and fame of prostitutes from ancient times to the present. Of course, this is also the realm that Lao Xu yearns for and pursues.

I waved my sleeves and didn't take away a cloud-I didn't want to be responsible after I finished. . . . . And the scene of the crime (love) is clean, and he is obviously an old hand.

Finally, I strongly despise the rules that require English proficiency 123456789. Look at how incisive, obscure and profound the poems of our local poets are. Can the British write at such a high level? Biao told me about Shakespeare. Does he write poems in English? Oh, no. Therefore, while worshipping Comrade Lao Xu, I strongly demand that China bid farewell to Cambridge as a compulsory course for evaluating professional titles.