Modern poetry describing Chongqing

Chongqing, a city with a strong literary flavor in this beautiful city, is the most desirable city for many young people. The following is a collection of modern poems describing Chongqing. Welcome to read!

Modern poetry describes Chongqing 1 The air here is quite good.

It's just a little rough.

The other side of the slope is still a slope,

The other side of the bridge is also a bridge.

The weather here is too hot,

However, the river view here is still very beautiful.

Sunny days always come after rainy days.

Rain is also the time when the heart is clear.

That mountain, looking at the water around it,

Water, lying at the corner of the road.

Whether at night or at night,

Morning is really like morning.

Looking at this beautiful woman,

Right next to the food,

If it weren't for the arrival of travel-stained workers,

Don't you want to stay any longer?

Looking at the modern poems describing Chongqing, the night in the mountain city shines on me.

All the descriptions seem redundant.

Above Nanshan, the excited wind is speechless.

On Nanbin Road, on a tree viewing platform.

Wanglongmen River Crossing Cableway

On the floor where the moonlight is reflected.

The mountain city is strewn at random and has a splendid night view.

The Milky Way on Earth

It flooded me deeply.

I turned myself into a fish in the face of the fire tree and silver flower.

Sneak into the Yangtze River and Jialing River

Look for the word "ba"

Looking for Yi Deng fireworks in the depths of history

Just like those cruise ships.

Go deep into the beautiful core of the mountain city

Interpretation of the sound of waves for thousands of years

Interpretation of misty rain in the summer country and the situation of accompanying the capital

Immersed in the night in Chongqing, birds are singing in Nanshan.

Under the bright neon lights

Splash out the stars all over the sky, simple and vague

Modern Poetry 3 describes Chongqing as a gushing liquid after a long separation.

Reflects the separation of time bleaching.

Standing in the drizzle

Just pull a few notes.

Get wet by the lingering nocturne

In the painful moment of memory.

I can't get rid of my sadness.

I can only take another deep breath.

Quietly feel the comfort of the cold.

Immersed in the dribs and drabs of the past

Awaiting judgment

Wet homesick dream.

Accompanied by thunderous snoring

Trekking on a steep ridge

Put yourself deeper.

Blend into this thick green

Waiting for the old dream to strike.

Just want to tell heaven and earth

I will be here every rainy season.

Waiting for you.

I want to jump off the bridge and let the river wash me away.

Being eaten by big fish, my heart, my liver, my body,

Those shouts of "collapse, collapse",

Coming from the end of the old street.

I even saw the squire,

Velvet hat, silk coat, round neck shoes, and voice.

They came out of the bamboo forest and turned a corner.

Kneel on the bridge.

I am a squire, and I look at the stone tablet beside me.

It says "Supreme Bridge",

Beggars stay far away and follow the stone steps.

Goddess of Mercy Pavilion

Zen. Paper money. Mom and dad.

The gate was last night, a yellowed document, leading to the past?

The depths of the cave were buried,

I hear songs, songs, noises,

Go away. Those old streets, disappearing pedestrians.

All over the world. speak the spell

Zhang's daughter-in-law, Li's girl, you damn fool last night.

The Yangtze River is covered with rocks, and the walkers on the river are carefree.

I remember that the north of Yushui is three kilometers below the Yangtze River.

The ancient town became attached to Guanyin Pavilion.

Lotus blossoms outside the temple lead to tomorrow.

Inch beach, your disappearing back

A group of pedestrians are waiting in line until the edge of the Ming and Qing Dynasties.

Those bones are glowing. Are they from the past or the future?

The caravan crossed the stone bridge and slate street, and its figure was elongated in the night sky.

Squire worries, autumn leaves fall. In my memory,

The smell of horses, horse urine and horse manure are all engraved in the depths of history.

The smell of tofu pudding is floating in the stone street. My eyes wander,

Either you or me, or tomorrow morning.

Boil winter at night, prolong it,

In the shops on the street, I saw the women in the caravan.

She closed the window and let the night cover, and the river flowed through the ages.

She reached out and touched me, throwing me into her memory.

Small towns, old streets and years are all in the north of Yushui.

Night, day, day, night,

Under the light of two fingers,

The upside-down sea is dotted with stars.

Think of the mirror lake, or the old waves.

Disappearing shadows on the beach.

I am the star and night in the night sky.

Change the angle and position of cutting.

The green hills faded in the golden light, and those guiguzi were in the sound of thousands of years ago.

Play with and fiddle with the flowers of the past.

Bullets flying overhead circled in the bamboo forest.

Those falling, crawling, falling, exaggerated cries,

Fireflies are put into glass bottles at night,

Glow in a collision, or glow in a collision,

This is the knot of my childhood.

Until, the adult traffic lights lifted the dust.

Crawling on the ground are memories of his years,

Carved out the laughter of the bamboo forest.

Walking through the gaps in the fields, rows of valleys,

The grain my parents cut this morning,

Tears of hope are in the air, on the slate and on the earth dam.

The sun was shining, and there was a relieved expression on my mother's tired face.

Just like my father's expression after drinking sorghum:

This year is a good harvest!

I am my parents' crop, protected by rain,

Today has become a tree in the sun,

Looking at my hometown from afar, I was cut down!

Become one new home after another,

This is a picturesque world since the middle of the Eastern Zhou Dynasty.

Those early morning air always bring the breath of spring.

Spring is coming, look! On the temple of Hong En, some flowers are in full bloom.

Spring is coming, listen! There are birds singing everywhere in Geleshan;

Spring has come, and the stones in the mountain stream and the clear spring water flow through.

It slipped my mind.

At this moment, there must be vegetable farmers who are full of food.

Stumbling on the mountain road;

It slipped my mind. At the moment, the streets are full of spring.

Those young people who put on thin clothes early put their hands into their pockets.

I can't forget it. At this time, those lazy wooden windows,

There are colorful fructose hidden in it, which is my youthful yearning.

Remember, I was held tightly and walked happily in the street.

The flowing water on the slate is the harvest of half a month, and they are fused together by filthy mud.

I've been waiting for you all my life.

Those are steaming, and those oil flowers are splashing. They don't care much anymore,

My eyes also escaped from the slate, and I decided to smell those by my parents.

Drag the step forward.

It slipped my mind. I heard the sound of tomorrow,

In yesterday's memory, there is nothing to fiddle with.

In the sky, at sea, I have forgotten those rural parties.

I don't even have time to say goodbye.

I am a cicada's net, I can't touch it.

In the gap, it was mildewed by the sun,

Become those cold statues in the precipitation.

Modern poem 7 describes that Chongqing is green. The whole mountain has changed since the snow.

Even the yellow leaves began to fade away.

Underground angry weeds, desperately climbing.

It wants to climb the dirt and enjoy the wonderful world.

The city is no longer crowded, and those buses are pleasant.

In the reinforced concrete tower,

The nanny also put on new clothes, and her skin was no longer soft.

Touch the breath of spring.

The daffodils and magnolias that opened last night,

Smile at her, the beautiful kind.

People crowded the hills and parks,

Under the tree, under the flowers, deep in the Woods, in the camera.

Wrinkles are hidden in green trees, and bright colors match spring.

Those fiddling postures are myriad, but they remind people of Qinhuai River in the shadow of plasma lamp.

The heart is on the road, passing through the heart of a tall building,

Twelve scenic spots in Bayu.

The main cherry blossom garden, the magnolia in the west is in full bloom.

Cherry blossoms in Nanshan, peach blossoms in Hongen Temple.

The flowing water in Hongyadong is full of happy voices.

Or hug, or hold, those young fingers, it is another spring!

I saw the flowers on the branches, like the big red flowers in that autumn.

They put them on their chests and wrote down the myth of spring.

Spring blossoms among thorns, and those days, the future is picturesque.

It is said that since the prosperous Tang Dynasty, crop after crop,

China is full of spring every year.