A poem about disillusionment

1. No matter how vague it is, it always lurks in our hearts, so that our mood will never be peaceful until the dream becomes a reality.

2. Dream is a desire, and thinking is an action. Dreams are the crystallization of dreams and dreams.

3. A dream is a goal, the motive force to live and the reason to be happy.

4. A person who realizes his dream is a successful person.

5. Have hope and happiness will come to you; If you dream, opportunities will cover you.

6. No matter how vague dreams are, they always lurk in our hearts, so that our mood will never be peaceful until these dreams come true.

7. A person with career aspirations can dream higher. Although it was a dream at first, as long as you keep doing it and don't give up easily, your dream can come true.

8. Dreams are by no means dreams, and the difference between the two is usually a distance worth pondering.

9. How can you expect a person to have dreams if he has completely devoted himself to power and hatred?

1. Dreams can become a reality as long as they last. Don't we just live in a dream?

11. Sometimes your dream is a kind of happiness, and sometimes your dream is also a kind of happiness. 2. What are the poems and idioms that describe the disillusionment of beautiful scenery and dreams? 1. It's easy to see when it's difficult to see when it's different. It's time for the water to fall out and the spring to go. 2. When is the spring flowers and the autumn moon, how much is known about the past. Last night, the small building was easterly again, so the country was hard to look back on the moon and the moon.

the past is empty and still like a dream. The past is only sad, but it is difficult to arrange the scenery.

moss invaded the courtyard in autumn wind. Who will come all day long when the bead curtain is idle? Jin Jian has been buried, and it is full of vigor and vitality.

it's sunny in the evening. I want to see the shadow of the Jade House and the Temple of Yao, and the sky shines on Qinhuai! After the departure of Airbus in the 5th Courtyard, the painting hall was half covered with a bead curtain, and the forest air was tired at night.

the new moon in the small building, looking back on the fiber. In Chunguang Town, people are empty and old, so why bother to hate the poor? The golden window is sleepy and careless.

a strong flute wakes you up drunk. 6 the wind returns to the courtyard, and the willow eyes and spring continue.

I have been silent for half a day, and the sound of bamboo crescent moon is still like that of that year. The ice on the surface of the pool is melting before the song is over.

the candle is bright and fragrant, and the dark painting is deep, and the temples are full of frost and snow. 7 cherry blossoms fall to the end of the stage, like a bed leaning against a fumigation cage.

it's much like last year today, but hate is the same. The clouds are haggard, and the tears are stained with red.

where do you miss each other? The screen window is drunk in a dream. Ran Ran and Qiu Guang can't stay, and the red leaves are full of dusk.

It's the Double Ninth Festival again, where the Taiwan Pavilion is on the landing, and cornus is fragrant. Purple bow gas, floating in the courtyard, drizzling in the smoke cage at night.

Yong Yong Xin Yan's throat is cold, and the sorrow and hatred are similar to the age. 9 Turn a candle to float a dream, want to find a trace of grievances, and the wish of Heaven is contrary to the body.

when the moon pool platform is empty and the water is gone, and the shade and flowers are pavilions, you will not hesitate to get more clothes when you board. There are many words in this respect, and they can express their meaning better than poems.

What do you think of these? Anyway, they are basically written by Li Yu of Southern Tang Dynasty, and I know his comparison like the back of my hand. 3. Poems about Fantasy

A person is dreaming and disillusioning.

Fantasy always forgives disillusionment, but disillusionment never lets it go.

A conversation in the wasteland,

The sunshine brought me closer to the poet,

I made a friend in need with people living in heaven or hell,

They invited me to drink good Chinese wine in heaven,

I slept like a stone and got drunk as mud.

A wild flower bloomed and fell in the past,

It bloomed and fell in the wasteland.

My heart is broken, and my blood is like a bottle of wine.

It affects my youth, and I travel across mountains and rivers.

On the edge of my life,

I fish in the cold river, and

I cross the river without a boat.

I quietly visited dreams and ruins,

returned from winter to spring,

I painted a poem on my mind, watched the petals burn, and

salvaged a pair of butterflies made in heaven yesterday.

The past is a life experience, and

it is also a psychological burden.

No, I'm holding a lantern.

In front of the territory of China,

I'm wearing a pair of flower slippers and pajamas.

In the rain outside the window,

I find myself warm. 4. What are the poems and idioms that describe the disillusionment of beautiful scenery and dreams?

1 It's easy to see the relatives on the first floor when they are apart from each other. It's time for the water to fall and spring to go, and it's heaven and earth. 2 When is the spring flowers and autumn moon, how much is known about the past? Last night, the small building was easterly, so the country could not bear to look back on the moon. Carved fences and jade should still be there, but Zhu Yan changed. How much can you worry, just like a river flowing eastward?

the past is empty and still like a dream. The past is only sad, but it is difficult to arrange the scenery.

moss invaded the courtyard in autumn wind. Who will come all day long when the bead curtain is idle? Jin Jian has been buried, and it is full of vigor and vitality.

it's sunny in the evening. I want to see the shadow of the Jade House and the Temple of Yao, and the sky shines on Qinhuai! After the departure of Airbus in the 5th Courtyard, the painting hall was half covered with a bead curtain, and the forest air was tired at night.

the new moon in the small building, looking back on the fiber. In Chunguang Town, people are empty and old, so why bother to hate the poor? The golden window is sleepy and careless.

a strong flute wakes you up drunk. 6 the wind returns to the courtyard, and the willow eyes and spring continue.

I have been silent for half a day, and the sound of bamboo crescent moon is still like that of that year. The ice on the surface of the pool is melting before the song is over.

the candle is bright and fragrant, and the dark painting is deep, and the temples are full of frost and snow. 7 cherry blossoms fall to the end of the stage, like a bed leaning against a fumigation cage.

it's much like last year today, but hate is the same. The clouds are haggard, and the tears are stained with red.

where do you miss each other? The screen window is drunk in a dream. Ran Ran and Qiu Guang can't stay, and the red leaves are full of dusk.

It's the Double Ninth Festival again, where the Taiwan Pavilion is on the landing, and cornus is fragrant. Purple bow gas, floating in the courtyard, drizzling in the smoke cage at night.

Yong Yong Xin Yan's throat is cold, and the sorrow and hatred are similar to the age. 9 Turn a candle to float a dream, want to find a trace of grievances, and the wish of Heaven is contrary to the body.

when the moon pool platform is empty and the water is gone, and the shade and flowers are pavilions, you will not hesitate to get more clothes when you board. 5. Poems about fantasy

A person is dreaming, and the fantasy is being shattered. The fantasy always forgives the disillusionment, but the disillusionment never lets go of it.

In a conversation on the wasteland, the sunshine brought me closer to the poet, and made me a friend in need with people living in heaven or hell. They invited me to drink good Chinese wine in heaven and slept like a stone, drunk as mud. A wild flower opened and fell in the past, and opened and fell in the wilderness.

I have broken my heart, and my blood is like a bottle of wine, which affects my youth and wades through mountains and rivers. On the edge of my life, I am fishing in the cold river, and no one is crossing the boat in the wild. I quietly visited dreams and ruins, and returned to spring from winter. I painted a poem on my mind and watched the petals burn, salvaging a pair of butterflies made in heaven yesterday.

The past is a life experience, but also a psychological burden. No, I am holding a lantern. In front of the territory of China, I stepped on a pair of flower slippers and wore a pajamas. In the rain outside the window, I found a warmth.