1. Modern prose poems about spring

Modern prose poems about spring 1. Modern poems or prose poems about spring

Xiaoxiao in Chengxiao The woods are turning green, and my grove. The humble ants and flying insects in the grove have come with spring. Under the soil, I hear the sound of crawling earthworms, using their soft heads to knock open the closed door of the soil. In the grove, On the grass, I saw a group of goats swinging their long beards, and their bleating calls shocked my youth and soul. A black goat walked towards me with tears of happiness on its face. I opened the spring door and heard the birds. When I called in the city, there were a few primroses. They did not dare to enter the city. They only cheered and jumped outside the city. They were as simple as farmers in the countryside, which made me feel close to them. They were my friends, and they seemed to be relatives I met by chance. They are looking for unknown bugs and make friendly sounds to their companions. Outside of the effect, I fell in love with the sound of birds. Amid the chirping of birds, I pushed open the door of spring. This spring, this spring, my heart was very confused. I thought of something for a while. The tombstone suddenly reminds me of my childhood. This spring, my heart is in chaos. Spring poems have been filled with spring. My poems are spring grass leaves and flower crowns. What else can I do in this spring? Who else can I embrace the spring scenery with? and time, the thoughts of spring, the sun awakens the sleeping north, the feathers of light reflect the wings of the pigeons, and can no longer hold back the long-simmered impulse, the river of seasons, the helpless road of time, the bridge of desire, the ice cracking, the weathering The wall turned into nothing in an instant. The fish jumped out of the sea of ??suffering. A free ship flew in the universe. No one could stop the footsteps of thoughts. The spring always burst out under the pressure. There was a voice calling the name of the ancestors.

2. Articles about spring, modern poems, famous aphorisms

Modern poems] Forget spring. The gentle wind sings in the dream in the deserted courtyard on the spring night. Listen, there are people. The sound of footsteps leaving the end of the world, someone has returned to his hometown again. If there is a piece of moonlight beside my pillow, I will not be able to sleep peacefully tonight, just because her beautiful shadow is still dancing in my heart. My lonely eyes are drifting towards the sunset every time I look up at the blue sky. Every time I embrace this place, the black night stars are twinkling in the farthest distance. I want to shed a few tears under the lamp, but I am afraid that the tears will reflect yesterday’s heartbreak. I leave the warm soft bed, but I don’t know who is waiting for spring. You are right in the bright window. I am thinking about the love of spring, the frost in autumn, and the sweet fragrance of all flowers. I have secretly cried and laughed quietly on the way to wake up from the dream, slowly forgetting my heart to spring, forgetting to the candlelight of longing or loneliness. Hope 1. The groves in Chengxiao have turned green. In my grove, the humble ants and flying insects in the grove have come with spring. Under the soil, I heard the crawling sound of earthworms and knocked them away with their soft heads. The door closed by the earth was on the grass of the grove. I saw a group of goats swinging their long beards and bleating, which shocked my youth and soul. A black goat walked towards me with tears of happiness on its face. 2. Pushing open the spring gate and hearing the chirping of birds, there are a few primroses in the city. They dare not enter the city and only cheer and jump outside the city. They are as simple as farmers in the countryside, which makes me feel close to them. They are me. They are looking for unknown insects and send friendly sounds to their companions. In addition, I fell in love with the sound of birds. In the birds' chirping, I opened the door of spring. 3. This This spring, my heart is in a mess. Sometimes I think of certain tombstones, and sometimes I think of my childhood. This spring, my heart is in a mess. Spring poems have been filled with spring. My dedication poems are spring grass leaves and flower crowns. In this spring, I am still in a mess. What can I do? Who else can I embrace spring and time with? "There is rain passing through my chest." A sound rushes down from a very high place like Rapunzel's shawl. The black waterfall holds time tightly. As a result, I became a dizzy elf in the vast rain curtain. I couldn't tell who the real uncontrollable desire was. The raindrops danced in the air, floating soothingly in the sky, accumulating strength and quietly seeping into me from the unadorned clouds. My broad chest, so the waves surged in my chest, causing ripples to hit the reef of emotion. The breaths that were higher than the waves intertwined with the drops of rain to nourish each other. The drops of rain penetrated deeply into my heart without any obstruction and mixed with my thoughts. For a pool of water then passes through the narrow narrowness of my heart, washing everything away, and a ray of sunshine takes the opportunity to travel through the deep road of time to reach my clear sky. 2004-2-23 "Looking at a Snow in Spring" is bound for spring. The train carries a sharp blade of the season and ruthlessly scrapes away the restless buds, letting the ice crack. The little hands of winter stretch out to hold the hunting flag to chase a snow in spring. As long as you step on the equator of spring, an auspicious snow will The dialogue between spring and snow is extremely precious. In an instant, snowflakes are flowing freely, sending instructions in six directions, sending bursts of moist information. In fact, spring has nothing to do with a snow, but a sudden cold spring. Hold on to everyone's love and look up at the sky and the earth. The contact is intense and pure. Walking down the slope of the season, we are waiting for the last snow of 2004-2-3 "Stepping into the Threshold of Spring". Looking at the tree tops outside the window in the distance, the branches are drooping and sighing, and the spray of mist is dripping into spring. A yearning for a bud that quietly arches out of the frozen soil and taps lightly on the door of the earth. The sparrow that roams freely disappears behind the ice-cracked tree trunk with a creak, enjoying love in the suburbs. The light kite driving season's boat reaches spring all the way lyrically. The road in the territory is still muddy. Occasionally pedestrians put up their collars to shut out the cold, but the sun shines brightly inside the spring door. 2004-2-5 "Outing" On weekends, I made an appointment with the kite to fly on the top of a hill in the suburbs. My son hugged me tightly for the whole winter. I was so excited that a floating leaf flew from the distance like a saw, and my son came and went. My wife lay down and kissed the warm splendens under me intimately. I was restless all afternoon and really wanted to take out a leaf from my son's schoolbag. Sweep away 2004-3-9 "Lenovo" An old buffalo gnaws at the lawn covered with wild flowers in the street and then cheers like a shepherd boy. "Moo" The cow raises its hoof and sprays beads to wake up the spring ears from the river. Next to it is the crazy growth in spring. The green seedlings and dense leaves on the field ridges rise one after another. I imagine that not long ago, it was this old buffalo in this land, ruminating the cud and grunting, driving the progress of the season. The warm colors in the middle are turned over one by one, throwing the cool classical figure heavily into the mud waves, pulling and urging the plowshare in the hand to shoulder with the old farmer. 2004-03-09 The last strand of "Who Hunts the Spring Feathers" When the feathers are gathered

After experiencing the exuberant vitality, the festival hid in the deep dusk of spring. Under the wings of the day, a peaceful and elegant serenade came to rest on the wind, gently licking the sail sailing on the sea of ??seasons. Who is harvesting love? After that, I fell out of favor again under the roof of love. I turned my back on the hope that the once romantic passion quietly wetted a drop of clear tears and wandered through the space and wilderness in the steaming clouds of spring. I saw the dying light bathing the sea and sky in the temper of the clouds. The beautiful feathers in the sky. The blazing heat can no longer overcome the boundless journey of the smoke lock. I can no longer carry the wordless promise and lift up the pious prayer flags and go far away. Who hunts for the feathers of spring but cannot find the soaring sky? Gathering feathers on the branches of emotion 2004 -03-08 "Waiting for the Sunshine to Come Over" I think there may be many things to do on a spring afternoon. I will be bored alone, leaning on the window sill and watching the distant sky. The clouds are rolling in and out. There are crowded people downstairs walking towards the hurried pedestrians. They all have serious expressions on their faces as they witness others. One side of the sky is clear, and a lyrical pigeon with beautiful feathers and a pigeon whistle is gliding unscrupulously. Between the kite and the breeze, a vigorous shadow is cast under the sky. Only irregular strokes are chosen to match the traces of thinking. The pigeons use their spread feathers to reach the bridge in the distance, waiting for a beam of sunshine, preferably a beam of long-lost sunshine, to rush over, and then embrace it heartily. 2004-2-2 "Weekend" The car advances tiredly from the hustle and bustle to the goal with small steps. There is silence in the boiling field. In the spring when rapeseed flowers are embedded, a swarm of bees descend into the depths of the season as masters and lie freely in the flower stamens. Witnessing the dance of the wind from the gaps between the petals, stretching out and exhaling the depression in the chest, bringing ease and comfort. A branch of red apricot parked outside the window on the way came playfully along the opened curtains and broke through the wall. The strong aroma mixed with the brewed mellow wine stunned the whole car.

3. Prose or poem about spring, modern

Satisfactory answer Hidden Sadness Level 1 2008-04-18 Spring Sleep was carefully drying the clothes, the stars coughed, and the swallows flew back to the eaves to spread her The news came, the kittens lined up with neatly trimmed and curved nails, the dogs turned the pans and shook out the fat flowers. She swam faster than a jellyfish. She landed on the window sill and looked around. With just a slight lift, she was higher than the short moon. Just a gentle blow. It’s so wet that it’s dripping. The song of spring. Cui Moqing. Spring is floating on the branches. Spring is shining among the flowers. Spring is singing with the sound of swallow’s wings. Spring is dancing on the dove whistle. Spring is giving green waves to the western mountains. Spring is giving the long river a string of laughter. Spring is boiling in the fields. The hustle and bustle of spring fills the ancient city with thousands of beauties. The spring thunder beats and the drums ring. The spring breeze rushes and shouts. The spring rain spreads songs and the spring tide surges like a sea. A vibrant spring dyes every cell of people green. A bird of hope is quietly in the hearts of Beijingers. Building a Nest on the Ground 2 Few words: About Spring (Modern Poetry) Spring Dream/ I like to call the dreams I have in spring spring dreams. I try hard to dream of you but it is always in vain. I like to turn over the pillow after waking up. I heard that this is the case. Do, in this spring of wild imagination, I am tossing and turning in my sleepless pillow.

4. Modern poems describing spring

Please refer to modern rhymed poems and campus works for writing.

"Enjoying the Spring Scenery"

The sunny day in March is a little cool

When the swallows fly, the wind spins and cannot give them direction

< p> Paper kites soar, hiding the desire to bathe in the blue sky before disconnection

The green water is rippling, trying to restore the natural appearance of the past

The grass is green and green, but the green is too far-fetched

p>

The early spring is as unstoppable as a girl, opening up the spring scenery in the south of the Yangtze River

The willows dance lightly, what a cool leader

Who can beat the white magnolia if there are thousands of fragrant pistils? The fragrance

In a lonely situation, the little stone only wants to listen to the sound of running water under the broken bridge

The vision sets sail, the oriole bravely stands on the branch and sings whether it wants to or not

The sadness of Zigui crying for blood shocked the whole audience

There was a lot of discussion, please don’t do this if you cherish your time

On the boating lake, the fishermen sat back and waited for the fish to take their bait

< p> The scenery in the painting, the sketcher tries to collect the beautiful scenery of Jiangnan together

If you walk in a hurry, if you miss the time, you will be used to admiring it in the painting in the future

There are two people, the promenade on the dam Lonely and long

In the spring season, the throbbing heart at the beginning has long since subsided

I am fine, and under the beautiful scenery, I think about the beauty I admired again and again

5. Modern poems about spring

1. "A Letter to Spring - Spring Spring" Author: Wu Zhijing

I admired you early, but you came late?

If you love me, I will wait for you!

If you arrive late, I will turn you into a river boat.

If you follow the wind, you will meet among the flowers.

In spring, trees are on the mountains and crops are in the fields.

Spring, spring, I am waiting for you in the world.

Spring spring, I will love you forever and never change.

Spring, spring, I admired it early, but you came late.

Spring, spring, if you fall in love with me, I will wait for you for a long time.

Spring, spring, if you are late, I will grow old.

Spring is always submissive, but Feiwei is dissatisfied.

Spring, spring, wherever you are, everyone is looking for you.

Spring, spring, you send the breeze, and I wear green clothes.

Spring, spring, I have great enthusiasm, why is it so difficult to give up.

In spring, after waiting for a long time, flowers bloom on the streets.

Spring, spring, if you are happy, you will see the fragrance.

In spring, the wind and clouds disperse, and the world is full of praise.

Spring, spring, you come with the wind and meet among the flowers.

In spring, the rain knows you are coming, and it comes uninvited.

In spring, love is full of lush things, and it is time to return home.

2. "More Spring Than Spring" Author: Lai Yanggang

More spring than spring,

It means big and small fists,

< p> Fix the elegance of the wind to the branches.

Birdsong and flowing pink are more spring than spring.

You are becoming more and more like a butterfly,

I am becoming more and more like flowers, and the flowing water opens my wings.

Every time you fly, there is fragrance.

Every square silence,

rings a round jingle.

Spring is more spring than spring, that is, mother can use illness

as a container to hold wine or tea.

It was my father who used fatigue as a knife,

to pick out the fish on the bones.

Four-legged snakes, frogs,

Sighs also bring rain in the spring. Just stretch and you will be able to harvest crops.

My lame grandfather,

impatiently threw away his walking stick and played shuttlecock on the grass.

Kicked the moon down and turned it into a sunrise.

3. "Spring, Spring" Author: Yan Chixia

In spring, those who once wrote poems have taken a different path.

I often rush there in my dreams,

one lonely feast after another,

a feast of poetry.

At that moment when the music is about to end,

for whom is the sound of the piano still ringing?

I carry my poems with me,

with the dust on my back,

with the mud on my trudging feet,

< p> And the dream in the eyes.

I brought all of this from a place called Western Qin,

thousands of miles away,

covered with stars and moon.

Now, the wind is blowing on the Elephant Head Mountain,

The land of Lingnan is full of spring,

How I want, at this moment,

The end Wandering, happy life.

How I want, at this moment,

to give up on fantasy and work hard.

Put the pen and paper for writing poetry into the sea,

love the military camp and the motherland.

4. "The Story of Spring" Author: Liang Feimengxu

Spring is really beautiful,

There is beautiful sunshine in spring,

In spring, willows and willows are green and everything grows again.

The dream of spring leads to the opening of the story of spring,

The sea of ??budding flowers of love,

The red-hot light of life burning with passion.

Promote the development of your career with the pride of spring.

The story of spring has the infinite power of love.

The spring breeze welcomes the successful arrival,

The turbulent river water pushes forward the waves.

Standing on the bow of the ship and waving at the spring sun from the east,

The story of spring and the smile of spring,

The spring sunshine shines brightly on the earth!

5. "I Love Spring" Author: Yibai Yanyu

If I were a bird,

I would use a gentle and loud throat

p>

Sing spring on the lawn;

But I can't - I love spring!

If I were a river,

I would use clear and bright body fluids

to moisten the spring in the fields;

But I Can’t – I love spring!

If I were a white cloud,

I would use my flawless white body

to polish the spring in the sky;

But I can’t – I love spring!

If I were a wave,

I would shout at the top of my lungs

to wake up spring at the bottom of the ocean;

But I can’t – I love spring!

6. Prose and poetry about modern spring

Spring

The wind has turned green

The rain has turned green

p>

Wake up in spring

Jump into our arms

The creek that just woke up

Didn’t bother to clear my throat

Just scattered the crisp songs

all over the floor

The fruit tree just woke up

Didn’t even bother to grow leaves

p>

Just burst out

A dazzling splendor

Swallows are the busiest in spring

She whispered as she did so

While using shiny scissors

carefully cutting new spring clothes

Although spring sometimes

can still make you feel a little chill

But the impatient spring

finally brought out a depressing winter

from the gray memory...

7. Modern poems about spring

p>

"Dry Rain" by Zhu Ziqing - Modern Poetry In the drizzle in the east wind, it passes by my face. The drizzle of stars is the fluff of spring.

Spring articles? Who woke up Xiaocao? It turns out that Miss Chun is tickling the grass! Who is playing with the fish? It turned out that Miss Chun was playing with the fish. Whenever spring comes, Miss Chun plays and grows with us... Whenever spring comes, it is our happiest moment.

Miss Chun, can you please stay? Spend a golden childhood with us! 2 In a blink of an eye, the harsh winter is gone, and spring has quietly come to the world. Spring is a beautiful season, a season full of poetry; spring also means a vibrant beginning.

Since ancient times, poets have loved spring and praised spring because the scenery in spring is pleasant and can be included in poetry everywhere. Strolling through the Garden of Ancient Poetry, one can see the colorful and colorful Wing Chun poems, which are dizzying for the eyes. I picked a few at random and read them slowly, and I was intoxicated without even realizing it.

"One night, light thunder falls, and thousands of threads fall, and the lightning is uneven. The loving peonies contain spring tears, and the powerless roses lie on the branches at dawn."

This is the poem of Qin Guan, a poet of the Northern Song Dynasty. "Spring Day". This poem describes the spring scene after the rain.

Look, in the courtyard after the rain, the morning mist is thin, the green tiles are crystal clear, and the spring scenery is bright; the peonies are tearful and affectionate with the rain, and the roses are lying on the branches and vines, delicate and charming. There are close-ups and distant views, movement and stillness, emotions and gestures, randomly colored and scattered.

The whole poem is full of thoughts and vivid descriptions, and has a fresh and graceful charm, which is very endearing. "When the morning comes, there are songbirds in the trees in the garden, and the red and green colors support the spring in the distant forest.

Suddenly a good poem comes to my eyes, and the syntax is hard to find." This is "Spring Day" by Chen Yuyi, a poet from the Song Dynasty.

This poem describes the scene of a spring morning. The ears are filled with the chirping of birds, and the eyes are filled with green branches, green and red supporting each other, and the fragrance is alluring.

With just a few strokes, the poet unfolds a picture of spring in front of the reader. Then, the poet simply stops writing, no longer describing the spring scene, and turns to expressing emotions. The spirit of spring is strong and inspiration comes suddenly, but the strange poet uses the evasive word "hard to find" to induce readers to feel the spirit of spring on their own. This method of combining virtuality and reality leaves a lot of room for the readers' imagination.

"My distant eyes follow the sky, and the setting sun shines brightly on the trees. Where do dogs know how to bark? People are walking in the middle of the mountain."

This is "Spring Day" by Yang Wanli, a poet of the Southern Song Dynasty. This poem describes a spring evening scene.

The setting sun covers the trees, the green space meets the sky, dogs bark happily, and people come home late. This poem is naturally appropriate, seeing cleverness in the commonplace, and surprising things in the ordinary, bringing readers into a panoramic atmosphere of spring. Here there is the beauty of the spring state, the splendor of the colors of spring, the strong taste of spring, and the harmony of the sound of spring. , during which people will open their minds and sing happily.

"The spring water is the first time for swallows to fly, and wasps with their small tails flutter on the flowers. The windows open to the bookshelf, and fish hold fragrant hooks near the rocks."

This is Li He, a poet of the Tang Dynasty. "South Park". Spring in Nanyuan is full of vitality and interest.

The spring water is beginning to emerge, the swallows are beginning to fly, the bees are collecting flowers to make honey, and the fish are clinging to hooks to forage. These are the scenery that is very characteristic of spring, and the distant view goes straight into the study through the window, making people feel comfortable and comfortable. , overjoyed. This poem is vivid, refreshing and refreshing to read.

"A short canopy is tied in the shade of an ancient tree, and a staff and quinoa help me cross the east side of the bridge. My clothes are wet with the rain of apricot flowers, and the willow wind is not cold on my face."

This is a monk from the Southern Song Dynasty. "Queju" by Seng Zhinan. This is a quatrain describing a spring outing.

The bright spring scenery aroused the monks' interest in traveling, so they walked out of the temple to enjoy the spring scenery. Driving a small canopy boat for a trip, moored the boat under an old tree, and walked east of the bridge leaning on a quinoa stick.

Although the narrative is straightforward, there is a small boat moored in the shade of ancient trees. This scene is very elegant and simple, quite like an ancient Chinese literati painting. The last two sentences accurately and concisely express the beautiful and pleasant scene of spring with apricot blossoms in full bloom, light rain falling, willows fluttering, and the warm east wind. They are famous sentences that have been passed down through the ages.

In this poem, emotions and scenery merge, and objects and hearts are in harmony. The poet captures the characteristics of the spring breeze and spring rain, and with a little exaggeration, reveals his inner joy and love for nature. "The grass grows and orioles fly in the February sky, and the willows blow on the embankment and are drunk by the spring smoke.

Children come back early from school and are busy taking advantage of the east wind to fly kites." This is "Village Residence" by Gao Ding, a poet of the Qing Dynasty.

The first and second sentences vividly describe the nature in spring, and describe the bright and charming scenery unique to the countryside in spring. In February, the spring is bright, the grass grows, orioles fly, and willows grow. The long branches brush against the embankment, as if intoxicated by the beautiful spring scenery. Three or four sentences describe the vivid scene of a group of lively children flying kites in the beautiful spring scenery. Their laughter and laughter make spring more vibrant.

This poem is written clearly and the words are concise. The whole poem is permeated with joyful emotions, infecting readers with beautiful emotions.

"The Yinyin stream is meandering with greenery, and the light rain turns the shallow sand on the ground. The geese and ducks don't know the end of spring, and compete with the flowing water to take advantage of the peach blossoms."

This is Chao Chongzhi, a poet of the Song Dynasty. "Spring Day". This is a poem about cherishing spring that embodies feelings and scenery.

The whole poem contains four lines and four sceneries: the creek is clear and clean, the drizzle is rolling over the trees, the geese and ducks are playing, and the peach blossoms are chasing the water. The picture is very vivid, as vivid as the present, and it makes people leisurely and fascinated. The poet expresses his emotion with the scene of geese and ducks "taking advantage of the peach blossoms". Spring has gone, and the geese and ducks don't know it, so they chase each other happily, carefree, but people are different. They know that spring is coming and that spring is going. Although the fallen flowers can be chased , time cannot be turned back, and the poet's feelings of cherishing spring are beyond words. Spring uses her warm spring wind to call people that green is coming.

The grass emerges from the earth and the flowers are in bud, adding a colorful touch to the beautiful Weifang, adding vitality to spring. Children fly kites with hearts full of hope. They sow a seed in the land and look forward to it. Finally, the seed sprouts and blooms into beautiful and gorgeous flowers. The most beautiful flower in spring blooms, which is the flower of hope. That is the flower of life. Look, this is the beautiful spring. This is the colorful spring. Let us sow a seed now and let it bloom into the flower of hope. Bloom the most beautiful flower this spring. Bloom your own flower of hope.

8. Poetry and prose about spring

Poetry: "Looking at a Snow in Spring" Catch the train bound for spring and scrape it away ruthlessly with a sharp knife of the season The restless buds let the little hands of the cracked winter stretch out to hold the hunting flag to chase a snow in spring. As long as you step on the spring equator, a snowfall will be extremely precious. The dialogue between spring and snow is instantaneous. The snowflakes are flowing freely, issuing instructions in six directions, sending bursts of moist information. In fact, spring has nothing to do with a snow, but the sudden late spring cold. Hold on to everyone's love and look up. The contact between the sky and the earth is intense and pure, and it goes down the slope of the season. Facing you is the gift waiting for the old man Time. You turn the east wind into branches and let the birds fly happily into the blue sky; you bring the grass to the wilderness and let thousands of flowers open their smiling faces.

You bring sunshine to the valley. Let the snow turn into gurgling spring water; you bring the drizzle to the fields, and let the seeds smell the fragrance of the earth.

You brought us spring, a gift more precious than gold; you gave each of us a share of the good times of the year. Three hundred and sixty-five days, no one has more, no one has less; it's up to us - whether we can arrange it best for you.

When a lazy person wanders around all day, you sneak away from him; leave a lot of unfinished things in front of him. A confused person is clueless all day long, and he has no idea that you are far away; others are trying hard to catch up with you, but he always shakes his head and says it's still early.

We are neither lazy nor stupid, and no one among the Young Pioneers wants to fall behind; because we know that once you leave, you will never look back. Piles of construction materials on the construction site turned into factories and high-rise buildings in an instant; across rivers and through tunnels, new railways moved forward every day.

In every inch of the motherland, everyone will grab you and refuse to let go; only those who waste their time will blush again and again. Believe me, Father Time, we will not waste a single minute of time; when we tear off a calendar every night, can we hand in a blank to the motherland? This year I will study harder. The construction of the four modernizations requires skills; even raising a cow will not work without scientific knowledge.

This year I want to make my body stronger and prepare to go into the mines and drill coal seams in the future. How can a future worker still get sick often? Father Time, please take a look, what a beautiful gift you have given us! The brilliant spring scenery is endless, and the mountains and rivers of the motherland are smiling everywhere! The Rhythm of Spring - Poetry Spring is coming slowly, with coolness and tenderness. The flowers bloom one by one with bright red cheeks, and smiles still hang on their cheeks. The grass is covered with green clothes, and each one is green in the wilderness. The waves are wandering on the spring path - there are endless tenderness of spring and endless secret words. The trembling of the beneficial wind plucks the strings of the heart. The ancient songs attract the laughter of children... Early spring The footsteps are still very reserved. It is a bud on the branch. It is a bud in the flower bed. It is the old swallow returning to spring. A clear cry. The thin mud is lingering on the soles of the shoes. The bird sings the poem of spring. The light blue breeze flows from the fingers. The soft rain flowing over my head is scattered... The small spring rain is dancing lightly and gracefully. The spring rain is soft, transparent and harmonious. The sky is woven into a transparent cloth with this needle-like thing. The rain falls. The halo circles on the river spread - adding the breath of spring. The gurgling trickle rolls with waves, carrying the fragrance of petals and the greenness of leaves. It happily rushes forward. The green spring water follows the wind comfortably. Ripples - sometimes a few thirsty swallows swoop down and make a "swish" sound - taking a few sips of the cool river water and flying high into the sky, as if the spring water is a part of spring. You can use it to wash your soul and even recall it in your dreams. The sound of spring water. In fact, I only understand a little bit about spring. I am still very superficial about spring. Let it be superficial. I don’t want to know the hidden meaning of spring. Let me maintain the hazy impression of spring. I sit alone. I sit alone. ;The summer day passes in the radiance of a smile; I see it pass, I watch it vanish from the misty hills and the windless meadows; Thoughts burst forth in my soul, and my heart is under its power. Surrender; with tears welling up in my eyes, For I could not express my feelings distinctly, In that sacred, undisturbed hour, The solemn joy crept in around me. I asked myself: "Oh, why didn't God give me that precious gift, that glorious gift that has been given to so many people to express their thoughts in poetry!" "Those dreams surrounded me," I said : "Since the joyful days of careless childhood; Feverish whims have offered visions since life was in its prime."

Yet now, when I had wished to sing, my But the fingers touch a soundless string; and the refrain of the lyrics is still "Stop fighting; everything is in vain." The poetry of spring is still the window of the past that cannot be torn open for your gaze, still in the cold Waving silence, maybe it’s really far away, I didn’t wake you up. On the other side of the mountain, you gathered the wind and gathered the moon. Let all the eyes be fixed on the coordinates. Quietly, she walked past your branches. You stamped your feet and your face turned red throughout the city. I think of those ballads edited by grass, loudly calling your name, the river crying, watching you dressing up along the bank with willow strings, watching your charm, and the strands I sprinkled for you. You don’t want to toast to reunion in this rain. I I rolled up my ankles with bloody scratches and cleaned up the sharp broken bits bit by bit. I looked at you and giggled when you talked about the nails on the wall, the love in the oven, and the fable about the snow. I was still giggling. She turned it off. The music gently raises the dance of spring. Prose: In the past few days of spring snow, catkins have begun to float, like poplar flowers, fluffy, floating in the air. Spring is their season.

Walking on the road, catkins are the color of grass, but gentler than grass. We don’t feel it at all when it falls on us. It adds its own elegance to the dance of spring. Its dance is based on the wind. The whirlwind dance of the melody entwines our thoughts together in circles. The spring green gradually deepens, and with poplar flowers, it becomes evenly lighter.

Looking at the trees outside the window, we can't see whether there are catkins staying on the treetops. We only know that the color is still so soft, like the sun's satin, pouring down from the sky, with just a few hints of green. Catkins often give romantic people wonderful inspiration, but they cannot read the words and poems they write.