Modern Poetry 10

First, the tenth, Yu Guangzhong's "Waiting for you, in the Rain":

Waiting for you, in the rain, in the rainbow-making rain
The sound of cicadas sinks and frogs rises.
A pool of red lotus, such as Red Flame, in the rain

You can not come to all the same, actually feel
Every Lian du like you
Especially across the evening, through this drizzle

Eternity, moments, moments, eternity
Waiting for you, beyond the time, within time,
Waiting for you, in the instant, in eternity

If your hand is in my hand, right now
And if your Qingfen
In my nostrils, I would say, little lover

Connaught, this hand should be lotus in the Wu Palace
This hand should
Shake a handle, in the Mulanzhou

A star hangs in the eaves of the Science Museum
The earrings are generally suspended
The Swiss watch says it's seven o'clock, and suddenly you're coming.

After the rain the Red Lotus, dance, you come
Like a piece of Xiao Ling
From an allusion to love You Came
From Kang Baishi's word, there's rhyme, you come

Read a lot of comments on this poem, the deepest impression is a science museum and Swiss watch that tie down how wonderful text, said is the combination of classical and modern, but, personally, the appearance of these two images may be the only failure of this poem, suits and shorty collocation let people look how also uncomfortable.

Second, the Nineth, Lin Huiyin Sound of "laughter":

Laughing at her eyes, lips,
And a rounded swirl of lips.
As the dew is bright,
The smile of a blossoming flower
Hide in the glitter of the bass teeth.
It was laughter--the Smile of God, the smile of beauty:
The reflection of the water, the light song of the Wind.

She smiled at the slumber of her loose curls,
Scattered next to her ears.
Soft is like a flower shadow,
Tickle the Sweetness
It's pouring into your heart.
It was laughter--the laughter of the poem, The Smile of the painting:
A cloud of traces, waves of soft waves.

It is said that Xu Zhimo is because of the love of this talented woman began to write poetry, however, Lin Huiyin Tone finally chose Liang Sicheng, later many people know this name is also because of this allusion. I think a name that can write such a work does not need to be remembered by allusions.

Third, the eighth, the name of the "star":

A star in the sky,
The one said is the eternal spring flowers.
Begonia Flower shadow on the east wall,
The cluster is said to be the eternal Autumn Moon.
Waking up in the morning is a winter night dream.
The star of Midnight last night,
Clean as a net as it is,
Sparse and without losing,
Chunhuaqiuyue, too, yes.
The fish is not known as fish.

Feng Wen handle His love of the old village into the poem, the works are everywhere flowing ideas. Those so-called philosophical poems compared with him, is not at all a grade.

Four, the seventh, Bian Zhilin's "broken chapter":

You stand on the bridge to see the scenery,
Look at the landscape people are upstairs to see you.

The moon has decorated your window,
You decorate someone else's dream.

This is the most famous of all the works with broken chapters. However, many authoritative commentators have explained the author's own disagree.

The sixth, Zheng sorrow to the "error":

I hit the south to walk
The appearance of the season is like the Lotus's opening and falling

The east wind does not come, March catkins do not fly
Your heart is a little lonely city
If the streets of the stone are late
The sting does not ring, the March spring curtain does not expose
Your heart is a little casement tight

My da Da's horseshoe is a beautiful mistake
I am not a person, a passer-by ...

Perhaps this mistake is not just to the window wife said, for the passer-by is the same, because the window is not his wife. Many of Zheng's poems are worth reading, especially "Mistress".

Six, fifth, Wen Yiduo's "stagnant water":

This is a ditch of hopeless stagnant water,
The breeze cannot blow up the slightest yi.
Why don't you throw some more scrap,
Shuangxing splashed your leftovers leftovers.

Maybe the copper will be green and emerald,
A few peach blossoms were embroidered on the iron jar;
Then let the greasy weave a layer of sophistication,
The mold steamed him some clouds.

Let the stagnant water ferment into a ditch of green wine,
Full of pearly froth;
The beads laughed into the big beads,
and was bitten by a stolen flower mosquito.

So a ditch of hopeless stagnant water,
It's a bit of a compliment.
If the frog can't bear loneliness,
And the stagnant water called out the song.

This is a ditch of hopeless stagnant water,
The fault here is not the beauty,
Let the ugliness be cultivated,
See what kind of world he made.

Only such a character can write such a work.

The fourth, the Feng Zhi "snake":

My loneliness is a long snake,
There is no word in cold--
Girl, if you dream of it,
Don't be afraid to frightened!

It's my loyal companionship,
A warm homesickness in my heart:
It's thinking about the lush grasslands,
－－－
The rich Us on your head.

It was moonlight generally softly,
To sneak past you;
For me to take your dream to the title,
Like a crimson flower.

Feng Zhi was known by Lu Xun as "China's most outstanding lyric poet, and only he can write such works." His "Southern Night" is so good that people have nothing to say.

Eight, the third, he Qifang's "prophecy":

The day of the heartbeat is finally coming.
The footfalls of your night's sigh
I hear not the part and the whisper of the Night Wind,
The elk had a fine, fine hoof sound from the moss path.
Tell me, tell me with your silver song
Are you the young god of prophecy?

You must be from the south of Wenyujin,
Tell me the moonlight there, the daylight there,
Tell me how the Spring breeze blows open the flowers,
How the Swallow is infatuated with the green Yang.
I will sleep in your dream song,
That warmth I seem to remember, and seem to forget.

Please stop, stop your weary rush,
Come in, here's a tiger skin mattress, you sit,
Let me burn the fallen leaves of every fall,
Listen to my low croon up my own song.
The song was as gloomy and lofty as the firelight,
The light of the fire will tell my life.

Do not move forward, the front is the boundless forest,
The ancient tree is now a speck on the beast,
Half a half-dead vine-like Python,
A star is missing from the secret leaves.
You'll be afraid to let go of the second step,
When you hear the first step empty Liao Echo.

Must go, please wait for me to walk with you,
My feet know every path of peace,
I can keep on singing the song of Forgetting,
Give you again, and give you the tenderness of your hand.
The black of the night has broken us,
You can look me in the eye in an instant.

You don't listen to my excited song,
Your feet do not pause for my trembling,
Like a solemn breeze drifting through the dusk,
Disappeared, vanished your proud footfalls ...
Oh, you're finally coming out of the silent words as foretold.
Have you gone without words, young god?

What are the limits of language magnificence? This is. Of course, his "Dream Song", "Garland".

Ninth, second, Dai Wangshu's "Rain Alley":

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone
Wandering in the long, long
And the Lonely Rain lane,
I wish I had
A clove, like
A girl with sorrow and resentment.

She's got the same color as lilac,
Like cloves of fragrance,
The same sorrow as the clove,
Sad in the rain,
Sad and wandering;

She wandered in the lonely lane of rain,
Holding an oil-paper umbrella
Like me,
As well as I do
Walk silently,
Indifference, sorrow, and melancholy.

She approached silently, and threw out
Sighing the General Eye
She floats like a dream,
Like a dream, plaintive confused.

Like a dream that floats
A clove of land,
I passed this girl by my side;
She was far away in silence,
To the hedgerow of the decadent dilapidated,
Walk the Rain Lane.

In the rain of the Sorrow song,
Her color was eliminated,
The fragrance of her,
dissipated, even her
Sighing-like Vision,
Lilac-like melancholy.

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone
Wandering in the long, long
And the Lonely Rain lane,
I want to drift through
A clove, like
A girl with sorrow and resentment.

The precedent of opening the rhythm of new poetry is also the first Classic in the new poetry. His works, a lot of good, are interested to look at it.

Ten, the first, Xu Zhimo's "Again Don't Kangqiao":

Softly I'm gone,
As I come softly;
I waved softly,
Goodbye to the clouds of the Western heavens.

The golden Willow on the river,
Is the bride in the sunset;
The vivid shadows in the waves,
Ripples in my heart.

The green Xing on the soft mud,
The oil is ostentatious at the bottom;
In the soft waves of Cambridge,
I am willing to make a weed!

A pond under the shade of elm,
Not a spring,
Is the Rainbow in the sky, crushed between the floating algae,
Precipitate a rainbow-like dream.

A dream? To support a long pole,
To the green grass,
Full of a ship's star-shining,
Singing in the star-shining colors.

But I can't sing,
Quietly is the parting of the Sheng Xiao;
And the summer worm is silent for me,
Silence is the Kangqiao of the night.

Quietly I went away,
As I come quietly;
I waved my sleeves,
Do not take away a piece of cloud.

Modern Poetry 10