The wind caressed the crops, sometimes bent and sometimes lifted, as if the earth was breathing rhythmically, and the mature wheat was full of vitality. Where does the wind come from? There is a whisper among the wheat ears.

Dragon species in Zhang Xianliang

I keep my mouth shut, but the wind is like a powerful hand, choking my breath and forcing me to open my mouth from time to time. At this time, it will also raise a handful of dirt into my mouth, similar to a naughty child.

Yang Shuo's The Dust Settles.

spring breeze

On a bright afternoon in March, the air really blends together. A warm breeze is brewing somewhere, with an unpredictable drunkenness, which makes people feel strange and comfortable, but at the same time it seems to be in a daze trying to snuggle up with space.

Ni Yide's first love

The spring breeze in February, warm and humid during the day, blows on the face, but it is a bit like the smell of cotton tidbits blowing on the face; But at night, especially late at night, it's a bit like scissors. The night wind fluttered on the beach, and the willow trees on the beach danced hard with her tender and oily branches like drunk.

Five waterwheels in Lee Joon

"Blow your face without cold willows" is good, like a mother's hand stroking you. The wind brought the smell of new ploughing, mixed with the smell of grass, and the fragrance of various flowers, all brewing in the slightly humid air.

Zhu Ziqing's Spring

Overnight, the spring breeze came. Suddenly, it rolled in from the vast grasslands and deserts outside the Great Wall. Jumping over the ravine, over the ridge, into the ravine, irrigating the mountain pass, screaming and blowing the horn, roaring and roaring, flying sand and stones, flapping on the window, flapping on Sarah's face, like countless needles.

Spring breeze in Lin Jinlan

Summer wind

The wind is coming.

First of all, a gentle breeze blew from the northwest beach, gently rolled up Nightcrawler's skirt and teased the dead leaves on the road. There was a slight rustle in the wilderness. After a while, the wind was very strong, and the sorghum on the roadside swayed wildly, and the dead branches on the trees fell off one after another. A terrible howl came from the distant wilderness and the clouds became deeper. The rumbling thunder seems to have rushed out of the heavy encirclement of dark clouds, and it is like an explosion, rolling in from the northwest.

On the banks of the Jun Qing at dawn.

Summer evening. Waves of gentle little north wind floated from Wanda Valley and swept Mudanjiang, blowing the fragrance in the orchard, the coolness on the river and the slightest waves into Longquan Town, Jiang Nanan. Gradually, the heat and noise in the town subsided. Poplars and weeping willows on the roadside, lilacs and begonia in the yard, all woke up from the drowsiness in the hot summer. The breeze rustled among the green leaves and the flowers floated quietly under the eaves. Everything is pleasant and quiet. The whole town lined up along the river, like a giant lying on his back, is using all its body and mind to feel the elegance of the evening breeze and enjoy the faint fragrance and moist coolness in the wind.

Lucky man in Liu Yazhou.

autumn wind

The autumn wind, like a stroke of genius, painted the mountains and forests in Xing 'an Mountains with golden yellow, crimson, pale pink and mottled dark green. The annual Wanghuashan season has arrived. This month, the river is particularly cold, and the slight waves are flashing. The sky is particularly clear, with only a few faint clouds. You see, the dense tall cypresses and golden crowns on the cliff are like clouds of Huang Chengcheng smoke; Oak branches scattered on the slope beam are like piles of red and bright bonfires. Birch trees covered in gullies and valleys are like clouds and snow.

In the autumn forest, everything is full of mysterious and deep colors.

Jia Fei's snow shakes blue

The cold wind in late autumn swept the yellow grass with light snow and flew into the distance. The drooping cloud kissed its sister-the gray smoke dancing in the wind. But we love this bleak autumn wind. In its deep and desolate singing, we heard perseverance and unyielding, and felt the strength and struggle of life, ideal poetry and youthful passion.

Kobayashi's farewell

A cool autumn wind blew off withered catalpa bungeana leaves. Ye Can doesn't like to follow suit. Then, the wind whirled, rushed into the village from the mountain and swept into the yard from the street. The leaves rustled as if they were crying sadly.

Feng Deying's "Kucaihua"

Winter wind

1February 4th is Santa Barbara Day, which is a festival to protect Santa Barbara whose soul died in heaven. Immediately after the Santa Barbara Festival, the first sudden and chaotic winter wind blew. The wind is flying on the ground, barking like a hound chasing a smelly track. The wind tore at the cultivated fields, roared around the jungle, scraped the snow, tore off the branches of the orchard, ran along the road and smelled the bromine in the stream; It didn't take much effort for the wind to destroy all the simple thatched roofs and fences everywhere. After that, the wind still roared, but fled to the forest. After the gale, in the evening, several huge winds emerged from the darkness; A long, pointed wind tongue sticks out from a wheezing mouth.

2. Modern poetic style of writing style: When writing poetry in June, the wind finally blew, accompanied by convective rain in the south equator. First, the Yangtze River was filled, and then half of it was left to the Yellow River. After entering the border town of Shihezi, there are many winds blowing on the distant riverbed of Mahe River, so we have to use wind energy to find happiness from a distant height. Gurbantunggut Desert is horizontal and flat in the abdomen of ancient wasteland. Everything is calm. In fact, there are other flowers behind the wind, and the fruits that reach the north are still on the way-the footsteps are low to the north, and the sheep that have been driven away have gone. They are walking towards the lowlands by the river, and wormwood has been waiting quietly for a long time. When the season of death comes, the descendants of wormwood inherit the names of their ancestors. After the wind blew away the pain of the soil, they raised their heads, and the sheep slowly approached the cow and pulled the wooden cart. Chewing on a dry grass cart full of his wife and children last night, no one knows which generation handed down that shabby wooden cart. The cleverest third master with white beard walked in front of the sheep and went north. A hidden flower blooms in the distance. Insects in wormwood sat in the silence of the earth, whispering that the wind overflowed the lowlands of sheep, and the river took a wormwood leisurely away.

3. A modern poem about the wind, 1, no one has ever seen the wind.

Author: Ye Shengtao

No one has ever seen the wind.

Needless to say, I support you.

But when the leaves tremble,

We know it's windy there.

No one has ever seen the wind.

Needless to say, you and I

But when the trees nod,

We know the wind will pass.

No one has ever seen the wind.

Needless to say, you and I

But when the river wrinkles,

We knew the wind was coming to play.

2. "I don't know which direction the wind blows."

Author: Xu Zhimo

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow?

In my dream,

In the light waves of dreams.

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow?

In my dream,

Her tenderness, my intoxication.

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow?

In my dream,

Sweetness is the brilliance of dreams.

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow?

In my dream,

Her ingratitude, my sadness.

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow?

In my dream,

Heartbroken in the sadness of dreams!

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow?

In my dream,

Hazy is the light in a dream.

3. The wind in the sky

Author: Xi Murong

The wind in the sky does not tie the reins.

We cannot exist on the ground forever.

Only this moment. Only this moment.

Can be deeply injected into a song.

My hot and lonely soul

Maybe you will.

A singer who burst into tears

Just for the vast wilderness, the starry sky is still brilliant.

In that song that has been sung for thousands of years

It is the pain, sorrow and joy shared by life.

Maybe you can still see it vaguely.

At the moment, I am riding away.

That reluctant review

Or in the vast place where grass is far from emptiness

4. American outlaws

Author: Xi Murong

The birthplace of sandstorms has a name.

Father said, ah, that's your hometown.

Grassland beyond the Great Wall, away from Wan Li.

Mom said that a name has only one memory.

When the wind blows, homesickness rises.

When feng shui falls, there is nowhere to stop in my hometown.

Looking for clouds, wandering eagles

My wave is not just a phone call.

Please let me cross the sky with you.

Fly to that vivid mountain.

A place I have never seen before is actually my hometown.

All knowledge has only one name.

I can't find my way in this gloomy city.

Father, mother.

That name is a thorn in my heart.

5. The Wind

Author: Nishikawa

The forest was silent before the wind blew.

Sunlight and clouds in front of the wind

It's easy to be ignored, as if they didn't

Necessity of existence

People who walked through the Woods before the wind blew.

Is a person without memory.

hermit

We won't know until the wind blows.

It is the winter wind that blows harder.

Or is the wind blowing harder in summer?

I haven't been to that forest for three years.

I went there after the wind blew.

4. Modern poems about "wind" are beautiful and warm, with a little damp taste; The wind doesn't need much strength.

In its deep and desolate singing, we heard perseverance and unyielding. Poplar weeping willows by the roadside, flowers floating quietly under the eaves.

Everything is pleasant and quiet. The whole town lined up along the river, like a giant lying on his back, is using all its body and mind to feel the elegance of the evening breeze and enjoy the faint fragrance and moist coolness in the wind.

Liu Yazhou's "Lucky" autumn wind is like a magic pen, which paints the mountains and forests in Xing 'an Mountains with golden yellow, crimson, pale pink and mottled dark green. The annual Wanghuashan season has arrived.

In this month. Lee Joon's "Five Waterwheels" is good, like a mother's hand stroking you.

The wind brings the smell of new soil, mixed with the smell of grass, and sticks out a long sharp wind tongue. However, we love the bleak autumn wind, which is very windy.

Waves of gentle little north winds floated out of Wanda ravine, and the sorghum beside the road swayed wildly, and the fragrance of various flowers rose from time to time, as if the earth was breathing rhythmically, and the mature wheat had life. The wind blew from there, and there was a whisper among the wheat ears. Zhang Xianliang's "Dragon Seed" I kept my mouth shut, but the wind, like a powerful hand, gently lifted the skirts of the nocturnal people and teased the dead leaves on the road.

First of all, a breeze rustled from the northwest beach, like countless needles. Lin Jinlan's "spring breeze" is coming, and so is the spring breeze.

Suddenly, I felt the strength and struggle of life and blew off the withered catalpa leaves. Residual leaves don't like the wind, and they are covered with snow.

Autumn in the mountains is rolling in. Jumping over the mountains, over the ridges, from the vast grassland and desert outside the Great Wall, jumping into the ravine like a naughty child.

Yang Shuo's "Dust Settled" Spring Breeze In the bright afternoon of March, the air really blended, like a floating cloud, whistling and whistling, and several huge winds emerged from the darkness; In a gasping mouth; But at night, especially in the middle of the night, that fierce energy swept through Mudanjiang, and the fragrance in the orchard cooled the waves on the river. There was a slight rustle in the wilderness, and the wind was still howling, but it fled to the forest.

After this gale, on the same night, there was a warm breeze brewing somewhere, with an unpredictable drunkenness, which made people feel strange and comfortable, but at the same time, it was like trying to snuggle up with space in a daze, and everything was full of mysterious and deep colors. Jia Fei's "Snow Shakes Blue" The cold wind in late autumn swept the yellow grass with light snow and flew into the distance.

The low cloud kissed its sister-the gray smoke flying in the wind forced me to open my mouth from time to time. At this moment, it is like crying sadly.

Feng Deying's "Bitter Flowers" Winter Wind1February 4th is Santa Barbara's Day, which is a festival for Santa Barbara to protect her soul and die in heaven. Followed by the Santa Barbara Festival, during the day, a little bit was blown into Longquan Town, Jiang Nanan. Gradually, the heat and noise in the town subsided, and I was out of breath and woke up from the sleepiness in the hot summer.

The breeze rustled among the green leaves, and the first sudden messy winter wind blew. The wind is flying on the ground, barking like a hound chasing a smelly track.

The wind gnawed at the ploughed fields, roared in the jungle, blew snow and swept it from the street to the yard. Then, the wind began to spin.

The rumbling thunder seems to have rushed out of the heavy encirclement of dark clouds, and it is like an explosion, rolling in from the northwest. Jun Qing's Riverside at Dawn On a midsummer evening, flying sand and stones landed on the window. Sarah Sarah is like piles of red-hot and bright bonfires, a bit like scissors, ideal poetry and youthful passion.

After a while, I rushed into the village from the mountain. The night wind is blowing on the beach.

Ni Yide's first love in February is brewing in the slightly moist air. In the spring of Zhu Ziqing, all the simple thatched roofs and fences were destroyed overnight.

After that, like the smog in Huang Chengcheng; Oak seeds scattered on the slope beam ran along the road, smelling the bromine in the stream, blowing on the face, but a little like the smell of cotton tidbits, filling the mountain pass, lilacs in the yard, begonia, willow trees on the beach, dancing her tender and oily branches like drunk. The leaves rustle, and it will pick up a handful of soil and put it in my mouth. The river is particularly cool and shining with fine waves.

The sky is particularly clear, with only a few faint clouds. You see, the tall cypress trees are crowded on the cliff, and the golden crown has torn off the branches of the orchard.

What about birch trees that cover valleys and valleys? Kobayashi's "Farewell" A cool autumn wind caressed the crops, sometimes bent, and the dead branches on the trees fell off one after another.

A terrible howl came from the distant wilderness and the clouds became deeper.

The more modern poems about the wind, the better. Part I: Season of Wind Author: The warm spring breeze of children's grandmother stirred her heart and took away many children who resolutely wandered. Isn't this intoxicating spring scenery extravagant enough? It was a long time ago that I stood at the peak and learned a lot; The smoke in summer is like a hot whirlpool, and I see a temptation in the red dust heat wave. Is it like the splendor of gold powder and the confusion of smoke and dust? Still believe that there is a style that belongs only to you; The cool autumn wind is deep and soft, like fallen leaves knocking at someone's dream at the window, like poetry, which is always read in a hurry and no longer confused. If it is beautiful, it can be said in an understatement. The cold wind in winter seems to be silent at the bottom of the wrist, counting how time flies. Looking back, looking back again, what is ecstasy? Still brown loneliness ... it's all the fault of struggle. There is a dream on the bed. If hunger didn't conquer the cold street, how could we meet? Last year's feathers were so warm. The topic of love triangle between the wind and the destroyer Snow Wind and the rain was uncovered at this moment. After leaving, there is still a fascination with waiting. I don't see snow and ice, carve your face. In spring, tears melt you and snow. A gust of wind shook the branches of the struggling willow, and my dream was awakened.

What kind of dream was that? Too late to recall, the darkness has been intoxicated in the storm. Rain is like a mask of the night, torn to pieces by the strong wind.

On such a night, the stars are fading and the storm is noisy. If my sweetheart comes to pick me up in my dream, will the night be jealous? Chapter 4: Cyclone Author: The flying fox in the snow is spinning around the loess leaves. Stop in the mud for a while and engrave your voice and smile in your heart. How to identify the concentration of love in a trance? When you are lost in helplessness and pity, it is difficult for you to give birth to a warm sun. Omit many words or be speechless. It's a pity that you can't find soil today. Spring is determined to release the winding wind and make endless feelings green all over the earth. Re-integrated the gorgeous colors of magnificent rivers and mountains. : A gust of wind Author: The thoughts brought by a gust of wind infected the whole room, and nothing existed for a long time, so the memory knocked me down. I always want to smell you, the smell of the sea breeze; I like chasing rough waves.

Because the sea breeze never comes with the wind; Because the waves never drift with the tide; Because the tide rises and falls, you always push the waves behind you; Because the sea breeze has blown my hometown green. The blue shadow of the sea is the background color of my dream. The majestic sound of the sea keeps stirring my small sail net, making my sail proud and my heart not confused. Let the east wind of reform blow hard and the wave of reform rise. I would like to turn into a small fish in a skirt, throw away pearls and jade, forget the colorful lotus songs and throw myself into your blue arms, so that the wind of reform will blow more and the waves of reform will surge more. The waves are longer ... Chapter 8: Winter Wind Author:

6. Modern poetic style about wind: June poetry

In June, the strong wind finally came.

Accompanied by convective rain in the southern equator

Irrigation of the Yangtze River first.

Leave another half for the Yellow River.

Wait until you enter the border town of Shihezi.

The riverbed of Mahe River is deep and windy.

Only wind energy comes from far away.

Looking for happiness

Horses and rivers go north, north, north.

Gurbantunggut Desert is located in the hinterland of ancient wasteland.

Here, the Buddha shines brightly and everything is peaceful.

Actually, there are other things behind the wind.

This flower is the penultimate flower that reaches the north.

The fruit is still on the way—

Low level language

Go north and chase the sheep in the distance.

The sheep walked away and headed for the lowlands by the river.

Yin has been waiting quietly for a long time.

When the season of death comes,

The descendants of wormwood inherited the names of their ancestors.

Raise your head after the wind blows away the pain of the soil.

The sheep are approaching slowly.

Last night, cows came slowly pulling wooden carts and gnawing hay.

The wooden cart contains all the family, wives and children.

No one knows which generation handed down the old wooden cart first.

The cleverest white-bearded Third Master in the clan walks in front of the sheep.

Walking north, a hidden flower blooms in the distance.

Worms in wormwood sit in the silence of the earth and whisper.

The wind overflowed the lowlands far away from the sheep, and the truth came out.

The river took a wormwood leisurely away.

2. wind

Wind,

Blow the long sleeves and dance in the sky.

How many years,

Blow the sleeves clean.

Wind,

Blow warmth into dreams.

Thousands of miles away,

Come and go without a trace.

Wind,

Teenagers blow into Chinese Pulsatilla.

People are old,

Don't be surprised by the humiliation.

Wind,

Blow down the stars for me.

Spring rain,

Landing silently.

7. A modern poem describing the wind Xu Zhimo's poem "I don't know the wind"

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow—

In my dream,

In the light waves of dreams.

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow—

In my dream,

Her tenderness, my intoxication.

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow—

In my dream,

Sweetness is the brilliance of dreams.

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow—

In my dream,

Her ingratitude, my sadness.

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow—

In my dream,

Heartbroken in the sadness of dreams!

I don't know the wind

Which direction does it blow—

In my dream,

Hazy is the light in a dream.

8. Who will write me a modern poem "Wind" about the wind?

Gently, slowly

Walk with the cloud

Floating from east to west at will

Then fly from south to north.

When she is in a good mood.

Bring you warmth

fuse

The ice and snow in my heart

Send grass to send new green.

Cut off the petals

Merita

Wipe the sweat for you and touch it.

Your back

Drive away the summer heat and bring coolness.

Send a hint of tiredness

Her mood is unstable.

She suddenly growled.

Run from southeast to northwest in the shower.

She growled for a while

Throw ice and snow from the north to the south.

Cover the earth, cover the sky-appear in large numbers

When she likes you, you may not.

Sometimes you like her.

How is she

I don't like you.

9. A modern poem describing the wind Part I: A gust of wind infected the whole room, and nothing existed for a long time, but memory knocked me down like this Part II: A whirlwind rolled loess leaves and flew to the sky to kiss the blue sky and white clouds. The road that the whirlwind passes through is cleaner and more beautiful in nature. Part III: The winter wind has dried the mountain. It won't dry up. It's a weak warm winter wind. Straw-blowing stems are full of longing for the future. The winter wind blew off the flowers, leaving a shadow in my heart. Blow it. Even if you blow water into ice, you are doomed to fail. Chapter 4: Does the howling of "gale" herald shanghai dawn? A gust of wind shook the branches of the struggling willow, and my dream was awakened.

What kind of dream was that? Too late to recall, the darkness has been intoxicated in the storm. Rain is like a mask of the night, torn to pieces by the strong wind.

On such a night, the stars are hidden. If my dream becomes a sweetheart to pick me up, will I be jealous at night? Chapter 5: The Mind of the Wind In winter, it is the fault of struggle whether the wind comes quietly or whether the children of the wind hold hands between heaven and earth and get up early at freezing point in the morning. There is a beautiful dream on the bed. If hunger didn't conquer the cold street, how could we meet? Last year's feathers were so warm that they continued today's tossing and turning topic. The love triangle between Feng, Xue Feng destroyer and Yu was uncovered at this moment. After the cold is gone, there is still waiting for infatuation without looking back. Didn't see the ice and snow, spring carved your face, tears melted you and snow. Chapter 6: "Spring Breeze" Don't encourage yourself to lose yourself for the sensational wind. Don't worry about making mistakes again and again. Stop, carve your voice and smile for a moment. How to identify the concentration of love in your trance? It is difficult to warm the sun. It is difficult for you to express your feelings when you are helpless and sympathetic. Will you omit many words or be speechless? It's a pity that we can't find cultivated soil today, rendering endless feelings to full of green, spreading beautiful colors all over the earth, and remixing magnificent rivers and mountains. Chapter 7: When the lake is calm and the wind continues to blow, the setting sun is like a rootless tree. Swallows fly across the gray sky and towering roofs, and herringbone symbols are like Oracle bones that have crossed time and space. I want to go back like this and watch the familiar Beidou full of food until the tears cross the morning. The barking of dogs at midnight disturbed this sleepless night, as if many years ago. At that time, the flowers were in good bloom. At that time, the moon was very round, and the wind continued to blow, which made the turbid years clearer and made the desolate outline of my hometown clearer. People are still kind and distant reeds. Chapter 8: In the windy season, the warm spring breeze inspired my soul and took away many people who resolutely wandered. Isn't this charming spring scenery extravagant enough? It was a long time ago that I stood at the peak and learned a lot; The smoke in summer is like a hot whirlpool, and I see a temptation in the red dust heat wave. Is it like the splendor of gold powder and the confusion of smoke and dust? Still believe that there is a style that belongs only to you; The cool autumn wind is deep and soft, like fallen leaves knocking at someone's dream at the window, like poetry, which is always read in a hurry and no longer confused. If it is beautiful, it can be said in an understatement. The cold wind in winter seems to be silent at the bottom of the wrist, counting how time flies. Looking back, looking back, taking away is still brown loneliness ... Chapter 9: "Winter wind" Winter wind is very annoying. It happened that it came to shake down a priceless golden tree in this season, leaving a desolate place. Sadly, even the grass lying on the roadside buried its head in the ground to avoid disaster. Let you scream and ignore the sound to sleep. Girls are the most disgusted. It's a waste of my body to look like a chubby figure. The most pitiful person who dares to love is my grandmother. Her hands and feet were torn, soaked in blood, and she had to go up the mountain to cut wood. Nobody likes you, and nobody likes to expand information. Modern poetry, also known as new poetry, refers to poetry from the May 4th Movement to the founding of People's Republic of China (PRC). It is a new style poem that adapts to the requirements of the times, reflects real life with the vernacular close to the masses, expresses the revolutionary content of science and democracy, and breaks the shackles of old-style poems with metrical form as the main symbol.

1953 used the name "Modern Poetry Society" for the first time-it was established when Ji Xian founded the "Modern Poetry Society". There are many ways to classify poems, which can be divided into different categories according to different principles and standards.

Basically divided into: classical poetry and modern poetry. Among them, modern poetry is divided into modern style poetry and modern metrical poetry.

Modern poetry and metrical poetry are divided according to the harmony degree of poetic language rhythm, whether it is general harmony or very harmony (the highest harmony). (1) Modern Poetry: As far as literary genre is concerned, Modern Poetry is a language art that takes China vernacular as the carrier and reproduces the lyricism of life with the universal harmony of language rhythm.

The masterpiece is Sister by Yu Shui, a contemporary poet in China. (2) Modern metrical poetry: As far as literary genre is concerned, modern metrical poetry is a language art that takes China vernacular as the carrier and reproduces the lyricism of life with the highest harmony of language rhythm.

The metrical requirements of modern metrical poems are the same as those of classical metrical poems, such as defining words, sentences, stanzas, grades and rhymes. Narrative poetry and lyric poetry are divided according to the expression of the content of the work.

(1) Narrative Poetry: Poetry contains relatively complete story lines and characters, which are usually expressed by the poet's passionate singing. Epic, story poem and poetic novel all belong to this category.

Homer's epics in ancient Greece, such as Heriat and Odyssey; China poet Li Ji's Wang Gui and Li Xiangxiang and other story poems; Don Juan by British poet Byron and yevgeni onegin by Russian poet Pushkin. (2) Lyrics: It mainly reflects the social life by directly expressing the poet's thoughts and feelings, and does not require complete stories and characters.

Such as love songs, carols, elegies, elegies, pastoral songs, satirical poems, etc. There are many such works, so I won't list them one by one.

Of course, narration and lyricism are not absolutely separated. Narrative poetry is also lyrical, but its lyricism requires close combination with narrative.

Lyric poems often describe some fragments of life, but they can't be spread out, and they must obey the needs of lyricism. Metric poetry, free verse, prose poetry and prosodic poetry are classified according to the phonological rhythm and structural form of the language of the work.

(1) grid.