Poetry of picking up shells

Poetry about picking up shells 1. Poems about picking up shells

Ma Lina bent over her.

Like a withered and loose body.

Look for it by the beach

With a cane in his hand.

Limping in front.

Hopeful eyes

Everyone watching from afar smiled cheerfully.

She is still so persistent.

Try to do what you are happy about.

Tears flowed from his eyes.

A big step, fell on the beach.

Holding a white shell in both hands.

She smiled.

Because it wasn't Bay who was found.

This is a corner of the sea.

Poor life makes people rogue, but we can choose to be strong and firm, but a nation and a society will perish, and we can only reflect and learn and strengthen ourselves. Social problems are reflected by individuals, which is a problem in the Middle East.

2. Picking up shells from the sea of poetry: a famous poem

Wang yue

What a magnificent scenery Mount Tai is! Out of Qilu, green peaks can still be seen.

The magical nature brings together thousands of beautiful mountains in the south and the separation between morning and dusk in the north.

Caiyun lave? My mind is free and easy, and birds fly around in front of my nervous eyes ..

Try to climb to the top of the mountain: it dwarfs all the peaks under our feet.

spring scenery

Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only the mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, and the sparsely populated Chang' an city is densely forested.

Sad state, can not help but burst into tears, amazing birds, leaving sorrow and hate.

The war lasted for more than half a year, and letters from home were rare, with a hundred thousand gold.

I stroke my white hair. It has become so thin that it can no longer hold hairpins.

Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night

Good rain knows the season, when spring comes.

Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently.

The wild path is dark, and the river is bright.

Look at the red and wet place, the flowers in Jinguancheng are heavy.

Three quatrains from China's Qing Palace (I)

Looking back at Chang 'an, Mount Li is like a pile of splendid scenery, and the gates of Huaqing Palace on the top of the mountain are opened in turn.

Riding a princess and laughing in the world of mortals, no one knew it was litchi.

Jiangchengzi Mizhou Chu Lie Su Shi

I said juvenile madness, which led to yellow on the left and pale on the right. Golden hat, mink and fur, thousands of riding rolls and leveling posts. In order to repay the people of the whole city for following my generous hunting proposal, I will shoot this tiger myself like Sun Quan.

Wine, chest and gallbladder are still open, and the temples are slightly frosty. What are the disadvantages? When will Feng Tang deliver it? I will make my strength as full as the full moon, full as the full moon, heading northwest and shooting at the team in West Xia Jun.

Jiangchengzi

Su Shi

On the twentieth night of my first month in Mao Yi, I remembered my dream.

Ten years of life and death are two boundless, disapproving and unforgettable.

A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about.

Even if we don't know each other, our faces are dusty and our temples are frosty.

When night came, my dream suddenly came home. Xiao Xuan window, get dressed.

Care for each other without words, only a thousand lines of tears

It is expected that the annual heartbroken place: moonlit night, short pine hill.

Yu Meiren Tang Lili Yu

When is the spring and autumn month,

How much do you know about the past?

The small building blew eastward again last night.

The old country can't bear to look back on the mid-Ming Dynasty.

Carved jade should still exist,

Just Zhu Yan' ai.

Ask how sad you can be,

It's just a spring flowing eastward.

Appreciation of Li Qingzhao's Looking for a Slow Voice

Looking around, lonely and sad.

It's the hardest to stop breathing when it's warm and cold.

How can you beat him with three glasses of light wine? It's too late in the wind.

Guo Yan is very sad, but this is an old acquaintance.

Yellow flowers are piled all over the floor. Haggard, who can pick it now?

Looking out the window, how can you be alone?

The phoenix tree is raining and dripping at dusk.

This time, what a sad sentence!

Look and see. "

You see me or you don't see me,

I was right there,

Not sad or happy;

You read me or you don't read me,

Love is there,

Don't come or go;

You love me, or you don't,

Love is there,

Do not increase or decrease;

With or without me,

My hand is in your hand,

Don't give up;

Come into my arms,

Or,

Let me live in your heart.

Silence, in love;

Silence, joy.

That day-Cangyang Jiacuo

On that day,

I closed my eyes and was in the fragrant fog of the temple.

I suddenly heard the truth in your hymn;

In January of that year,

I shake all the curved pipes,

Not to cross over,

Just to touch your fingertips;

That year,

Kowtow and climb the mountain,

Not for the audience,

Just to stick to your warmth;

At that time,

Put mountains, water and pagodas,

Not for the afterlife,

Just to meet you on the road.

In January of that year,

I gently turned all the curved pipes,

Not to cross, just to touch your fingerprints;

That year, I kowtowed and embraced the dust.

Not to worship Buddha, just to stick to your warmth;

At that time, I searched hundreds of mountains,

Not to repair the afterlife, just to meet you on the road;

It's just that that night, I forgot everything,

Abandoned faith, abandoned reincarnation,

Just for the rose that once cried in front of the Buddha,

Has long lost its former glory.

There are really too many good poems. .

3. Poetry and shells

The following is a poem by Haizi, facing the sea and blooming in spring. A poet with epic ambition like Haizi will not be satisfied if I introduce his short poems instead of his long ones. But I think, even so, he will still be full of respect for me, because this poet like Van Gogh is so lonely.

From tomorrow on, I want to be a happy person;

Comb hair, chop wood and travel around the world.

From tomorrow on, I will care about food and vegetables.

Living in a house facing the sea, spring is blooming.

From tomorrow on, write to everyone I love.

Tell them my happiness,

What did the lightning of happiness tell me,

I will distribute it to each of them.

Give every river and mountain a warm name.

Stranger, I will also wish you happiness.

I wish you a bright future!

May you lovers get married!

May you be happy on earth.

I only want to face the sea and spring blossoms.

Xi Murong's The Flowering Tree

How to let you meet me

In my most beautiful moment

I prayed for this for 500 years.

Pray for the Buddha to let us have this dusty relationship.

The Buddha then turned me into a tree.

Growing on the roadside that must pass by.

The sunshine is full of cautious flowers.

Blooming is my expectation in my previous life.

When you get close,

Listen carefully

The trembling leaves are my passion for waiting,

When you finally ignore it.

On the ground behind you

My friend,

Not falling petals

It is my withered heart

Alleys in the rain

Dai wangshu

Holding an oil-paper umbrella alone

Wandering in the long, long

Lonely rain lane,

I hope to see

Like cloves.

A girl with a grudge.

She does.

Clove-like color,

Lilac-like fragrance,

Sad as cloves,

Mourning in the rain,

Sadness and hesitation;

She lingers in this lonely rain lane,

Hold an oil-paper umbrella

Like me,

Like me.

voicelessly

Cold, sadness and melancholy.

She approached quietly,

Get close and throw again.

Breathing eyes

She floated by.

Like a dream,

As sad and confused as a dream.

Floating like a dream

A lilac field,

I passed this girl by;

She left silently, left,

A crumbling fence,

Walk through this rainy path.

In the lamentation of the rain,

Remove her color,

Spread her fragrance,

Disappeared, even hers

Breathing eyes

Lilac is melancholy.

Holding an oil-paper umbrella alone

Wandering in the long, long

Lonely rain lane,

I hope to float over.

Like cloves.

A girl with a grudge.

mistake

Author: Zheng Chouyu

I walked through Jiangnan.

The appearance in the season is like the opening and falling of lotus flowers.

If the east wind does not come, catkins will not fly in March.

Your heart is like a little lonely city.

Like a bluestone street facing the night.

Without a sound, the spring curtain in March can't be lifted.

Your heart is a small closed window.

My dada horseshoe is a beautiful mistake.

I am not a returnee, I am a passer-by. ...