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Write homesick ancient poems and modern poems

1 homesickness

homesickness

Ice and snow melt in the warm sunshine.

The grass all over the world is lush.

When the chilly east wind awakens the poet's wine that hurts spring.

The sunset slowly sets with flying flowers.

Forward, forward

I put it off for a long time.

Wandering in the streets of a foreign land

All the faces in a foreign land are cold.

Look at every passer-by in a hurry indifferently.

When endless silk rain weaves into a thin and dense net.

Covering the wandering soul.

Melancholy, melancholy.

I leaned against the shabby door of an inn.

Staring at home from a distance

The dream home is a foggy and rainy village.

The flower cat snored and curled up beside the needle and thread of the loving mother.

When the cuckoo whispers in his ear

It's better to go home.

Cuckoo, Cuckoo.

We are all chess pieces crossing the river.

There is no retreat, no turning back.

2

Distant homesickness

Pay to the soil dripping with hot sweat.

Persistent belief

On my deep forehead

In Huanlang, my hometown, there are red and green dresses for village girls.

All this is both familiar and strange to me.

I haven't seen it for a long time.

Ancient sea slugs

Take me back to youth again.

The ancient locust at the entrance to the village remains the same.

Grandma stood under the tree that year.

Stand in the rain and wait for me to come back.

at present

I am eager to find that seems to be all the time.

Remind my eyes

That old man

Until the tears of memories overflow my heart

The lovely cuckoo is flying on the green mountain.

Sweep to the edge of the cloud and directly into the edge dome.

Step on the wet grass under your feet.

Green and green

Swing and dance against the wind

This is my hometown that I miss day and night.

Condensed in the heart of dreams.

How could I forget?

How could I forget?

Deep homesickness is deposited in my heart.

3 evocative piccolo

Yu Guangzhong

Come back, mother, the east can't stay long,

The tropical ocean where typhoons were born,

The air pressure in the North Pacific is very low in July.

Come back, mom, the south won't stay long,

One-way street of the sun train

In July, the equator moxibustion pedestrians' feet.

Come back, mother, the north can't stay long,

The white kingdom of reindeer,

There is no rest night in July, only day.

Come back, mom, you can't stay in a foreign country for long.

The little urn dream in front of the French window,

Use the little plants you planted yourself.

Come back, mom, and protect your town after the fire.

Spring is coming, and I will tread the wet and cold Qingming road.

Bury you in a small grave in your hometown.

Bury you in Jiangnan, a small town in Jiangnan.

The weeping willows hang down to your grave,

When spring comes, you must dream of a girl.

Dream of your mother.

Mother, on the Qingming road, my footprints will be deep,

Willow hair dripping with rain, mother, dripping with my memories,

Come back, mother, and protect this empty city.

When I die.

When I die, bury me in the Yangtze River and Yellow River.

Suddenly, my head was resting, and my white hair was covered with black soil.

In China, the most beautiful and motherly country,

I slept peacefully, on the whole continent,

Listen on both sides. The requiem starts from the Yangtze River and the Yellow River.

Two eternal music, surging and facing the east.

This is the most indulgent and spacious bed.

Let's sleep contentedly and think contentedly,

Once upon a time, there was a young man in China.

Looking west in frozen Michigan,

Want to see the dawn of China through the night,

With the eyes of China who was not embarrassed for seventeen years.

Gluttonous map, from West Lake to Taihu Lake,

Go to Chongqing, where there are many partridges, instead of going home.

five

Hours later

Homesickness is a small stamp.

I'm at this end

Mom is over there.

When I grow up

Homesickness is a narrow ticket.

I'm at this end

The bride is over there.

We'll talk about it later.

Homesickness is a low grave.

I am outside

Mom's inside.

But now

Homesickness is a shallow strait.

I'm at this end

The mainland is over there

six

Yu Guangzhong

Give me a spoonful of Yangtze River water, Yangtze River water.

Yangtze river water like wine

The taste of drunkenness

It's homesickness

Give me a spoonful of Yangtze River water, Yangtze River water.

Give me a Zhang Haitang red, begonia red.

Blood-like begonia red

The burning pain of boiling blood

This is the pain of homesickness

Give me a Zhang Haitang red, begonia red.

Give me a piece of snow, snow

White as a letter.

Waiting for a letter from home

It's a homesick wait.

Give me a piece of snow, snow

Give me a sweet wintersweet.

Mother-like Chimonanthus praecox

Mother's fragrance

It's the fragrance of the country.

Give me a sweet wintersweet.

seven

That's a cricket.

Liu Shahe

Mr y, a poet from Taiwan Province province, said: overseas, when you hear a cricket at night, you will think that you heard it in rural Sichuan.

That's a cricket.

Steel wings beat the golden wind.

Jump across the channel

Landing quietly over Taipei

I left it in your yard.

Sing every night

That's a cricket.

I sang it in The Wind in July.

I sang it with Tang crickets.

I sang it in nineteen ancient poems.

I sang by Mulan's loom.

I rap with Jiang Kui's words.

I've heard of it.

I've heard of it.

That's a cricket.

I sing by the post road in the mountains.

Singing on the beacon tower of the Great Wall

Singing in the courtyard of the hotel

Singing in the weeds on the battlefield

Lonely guests have heard of it.

The wounded soldier heard about it.

That's a cricket.

Sing in your memory

Singing in my memory

Sing the surprise of childhood

Sing the loneliness of middle age

Think of carving bamboo as a cage.

Think of the pager fence falling down.

Think about moon cakes.

Think of osmanthus

Think of pomegranate fruit covered with pearls.

Thinking of hometown, flying yellow leaves.

Think of Yan Nanfei

Think of the piles of hay in the field.

Think about it. Mom told us to go back to Canada.

clothes

Think about sneaking away all those years.

many

That's a cricket.

Singing across the channel

Singing in the alleys of Taipei

Singing in a village in Sichuan

No matter where China people go.

Singing everywhere

More monotonous than the most monotonous music.

More harmonious than the most harmonious voice.

condensation water

It's dew

Burning light

It's Huo Ying.

Become a bird

This is a partridge.

People who know in the countryside cry in their hearts.

That's a cricket.

Singing outside your window

Singing outside my window

You're listening

You're gone.

I'm listening.

I'm singing.

You should guess what I am singing.

I'll guess what you're thinking

China people have the mentality of China people.

China people have the ears of China people.