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Modern Poetry about Green

Green concept

Since they are descendants of mountain thieves, it is not surprising.

Why is my rock-solid exterior wall

Always covered with moss, on the border of Guangxi and Liaoning.

Especially green is eye-catching.

I only stood for many years.

The only gesture, unless you fall.

I am the only person in this land.

People who grow and die.

People made of loess are too simple and honest.

People made of loess are too used to being simple and honest.

People made of loess are used to being simple and honest.

I was caught by the collar and hit in the face.

People made of loess finally understand.

Benevolence and righteousness can never resist foreign aggression.

So I jumped into the rolling sunshine.

Without hesitation, he was infected with a dark and restrained domineering.

On barren land.

Pick up a bright bayonet

I'm in the fire.

People who grow and die.

Land and sunshine

Is still a small idea in the human mind.

I'm standing on a distant border.

Show their greedy eyes

I am always calm.

Let their excuses blindfold me.

I released a sneer at the corners of my mouth.

Complete the contempt for temptation

Cold as a killer, cold as running in December.

Indifference can eventually be ground into a sharp sword.

I used my feet to write down my experiences in the land where I was born.

I really want to plant my land.

Hanging on the border from birth

On that lush Populus euphratica pillar, it lasted for three thousand years.

-if the land is the most painful.

That's just because all this time, here

There are always fresh and tender germs stubbornly arching out.

(The landlord made it clear,

Is it about protecting the environment?

You said I'd help you find it:)

Spring dyed our feet green, stepped on the spring breeze all the way, smiled all the way, and marched into the barren hills. Spring dyed our feet green. The shovels tinkled and the songs of planting trees played; Clear water is flowing, nourishing the saplings. Wherever we go, we wear green robes; Thousands of years of exposed rocks have ended the suffering of the scorching sun. The barren hills that have been silent for many years are now flourishing, and when the wind blows, there are bursts of Lin Tao. Birds flap their colorful wings and come here to nest; When squirrels have a beautiful home, they cry happily. Holding up a big green umbrella, rabbits are no longer afraid of the old carvings in the sky; In the dense bush, the little monkey jumped and jumped happily. The river at the foot of the mountain is no longer turbid and roaring, and the blue waves are rippling and stroking the grass by the river. Until the autumn, we embraced the fruitful orchard. Stepping on the spring breeze all the way, laughing all the way, walking around the green mountains and green waters, spring will dye our feet green.

Open the green textbook of nature, the motherland opens the green door and gives children a cool shade. Go, breathe the fragrant air between mountains and rivers, go and open the green textbook of nature. Let bright eyes find tall and straight bamboo and vigorous pine and cypress. Use gorgeous colors to describe the harvest of orchards and the cultivation of fertile fields. Songbirds and wild flowers will meet with you, and life will be full of joy and warmth. The mountains and rivers of the motherland will meet you. Please listen to the voices in their hearts. Qingshan said: climb up and enjoy the infinite scenery, full of youthful pride! Green water said: go forward bravely, rush to the vast sea, and show the mind of teenagers! Go, the sky will open the clouds and bring you a bright morning. Go, there will be a breeze blowing from the earth, leaving you a pleasant night. The motherland opened the green door and gave children a cool shade. Go, breathe the fragrant air between mountains and rivers, go, open the green textbook of nature.

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All related issues

Poetry about green

First, the author Jiang Nanchun and Du Mu in the Tang Dynasty were blue and red, and the wine flag was windy. More than 480 ancient temples were left in the Southern Dynasties, and countless pagodas were shrouded in wind and rain. Thousands of miles south of the Yangtze River, everywhere is full of singing and dancing, pink and green, a scene full of spring. In villages near water and battlements near mountains, there are wine flags fluttering in the wind everywhere. There are temples full of cigarettes, and pavilions stand in the misty rain. Second, the "Liu Dynasty" In the Tang Dynasty, the moonlight was deeper than half of the households, and the Beidou withered south. Tonight, through the green screen window, I know that spring is warm and the sound of insects is fresh. The night is still deeper, and the moonlight only illuminates half of the family, and the other half is hidden in the darkness. The Big Dipper is tilted, so is Nandou. I didn't know the arrival of spring until tonight. Outside the screen window reflected by leaves, the chirping insects came to the house for the first time. Third, the author of the spring tour of Qiantang Lake Bai Juyi Chao Tangjiashan Temple is in the north of Jiating West, with a flat water surface and low feet. Several early orioles raced to the sunny tree, and their new swallows were carrying mud in their nests. Colorful spring flowers will gradually fascinate people's eyes, and shallow spring grass can barely cover the horseshoe. I love the beauty on the east bank of the West Lake, and I can't get enough of it, especially the white sand embankment under the green poplar. Around Gushan Temple in the north to Jiagong Pavilion in the west, white clouds hang low at the beginning of the lake. Several warm trees that the oriole came out early competed for sunshine, and the new swallows were busy building nests and holding mud. Wild flowers will be dazzling when they are competing to open, and spring grass has just crossed the horseshoe before it grows tall. The beautiful scenery in the east of the favorite lake is unforgettable. Rows of willow trees pass through a white sand embankment. Fourth, the next berth on Beibao Mountain, Wang Wanchao, Tang at the foot of Qingshan Mountain, we meandered forward, me and my boat, along the green water. Until the river bank widens at low tide, and no wind blows my lonely sail. ... night gives way to the ocean of the sun, and the old year melts in freshness. Finally, I can send my messenger, Wild Goose, back to Luoyang. The journey is beyond the green hills, sailing in front of the Qinghe River. The tide is high, and the water between the two banks is wide, so sail before the wind just hangs the sail high. The night hasn't faded, the rising sun has risen on the river in Ran Ran, and the Jiangnan in the old year has the breath of spring. I don't know when the letter from home will arrive. I hope the geese returning from the north will take it to Luoyang. Five, the author of the Tang Dynasty Jasper makeup into a tree high, hanging a moss tapestry for thousands of years. I don't know who cut the thin leaves, but the spring breeze in February is like scissors. Tall willows are covered with new green leaves, and soft willows hang down like ten thousand green ribbons fluttering gently. Whose skillful hand cut off this thin young leaf? It turned out to be the warm spring breeze in February. It's like a pair of clever scissors.

52 Browse 8505 20 19-04-25

What are the poems about green in modern times?

Green Ai Qing is like an upside-down green ink bottle, green everywhere ... where can I find so much green: dark green, light green, light green, emerald green, light green, pink green ... The wind is green, the rain is green, the running water is green, and the sunshine is green. All the greens are concentrated, crowded, overlapping and crossing quietly. Suddenly there was a gust of wind, as if the dance teacher were in command, and all the greens fluttered together neatly according to the beat. ......

Browse 4 1 16 2020-03-24

Modern poetry with the theme of green?

Spring breeze, green footsteps step on that string of green vines, and your footsteps are swaying in the wind. Some dreams are dyed green. The weeping willows standing upright on the shore provoked several fish to embrace spring. Finally, a few lines about spring have begun to sprout and grow butterfly wings. I missed a drunken flight. You stomped outside the door to shake off the cold of winter and walked across the grass covered with raindrops. A village girl who was washing clothes wiped the spring water by the thawed river. Green juice, a few shepherds are flying your story, and the crescent moon can't bear a little bitter love for you. When you are tired, close your eyes and take a nap against my curved eyelashes. Yes, I dare not open my eyes. I hope you can hold me in your arms. ...

42 Browse 704 2020-03-03

Ancient poems about "green"

The ancient poem about "green" goes like this: He Zhangzhi's jasper is dressed as a tree with countless strands of green silk hanging down. I don't know who to cut it for, but the spring breeze in February is like scissors. Fengle Pavilion Youchun Ouyang Xiu Mangroves are sloping with green hills, and the grass in the long suburbs is boundless. Visitors, no matter how old they are, will walk to the front of the exhibition hall in spring. Deng Guazhou Wang Anshi Jingkou Guazhou Yishui, Zhongshan is only separated by several mountains. There is green Jiang Nanan in the spring breeze. When will the bright moon shine on me? Recalling that Bai Juyi in Jiangnan is good in Jiangnan, the scenery once seemed familiar. At sunrise, the river is redder than the fire. In spring, the river is as green as blue, so we can't forget Jiangnan. Spring scenery in the south of the Yangtze River, thousands of miles of warblers sing green and reflect red, and the water town is full of wine flags. More than 480 ancient temples were left in the Southern Dynasties, and countless pagodas were shrouded in wind and rain.

5 Browse 183 20 19-08-23

What are the poems about green in modern times?

The trees outside the window are straight. I admire his green color. Do not pollute the indifference and vicissitudes of the world. The framed window paintings always fluctuate. Because painting is a human painting, not a god. We can't arrange the imaginary reality, but it is blown by the wind. Pulling a thread is a cruel break, pulling it too tightly, and then it is too far. This is the fate of green and the world, but it is cruel.

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