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All the great poets of the New Year's Poetry Club in 2111 help.

CCTV anchor's 2111 New Year's Poetry Club Poetry Draft (Theme: Hope) (2111) Table of Contents Unit 1 Eye of the Night 1, Zhu Ying's Birthday "The Wind of the Ancient City" 2, Ai Qing's "Handcart" 3, Cang Kejia's "Refugees" 4, He Qifang's "Chengdu, Let me wake you up 5. Ye Ting's Prison Song 6. Chen Jingrong's Departure Unit 2 Light of Nature 7. Liu Hui's Wild Flowers on the Hillside 8. Han Zuorong's Firefox 9. Yang Xiaomin's September 11. Xi Murong's A Flowering Tree 11. Li Shaojun's Frontier Unit 3 You and Me 12. Liang Xiaobin's Snow White Wall 16, Bai Lianchun's Me and You Together 17, Cui Jian's Nothing Unit 4 Song of Hope 18, Lu Xun's Hope (Excerpt) 19, Dai Wangshu's Paradise Bird 21, forefinger's Believe in the Future 21, Li Gang's Blue Sailor 22, Wang Xiaoni's I Feel the Sunshine. Snow Unit 1 Eye of the Night The Wind of the Ancient City (Zhu Xun) The wind of the ancient city of Zhu Ying's birthday is blowing like a tiger. Do you think this wind is from Taikoo? However, the indigenous people feel more peaceful in the wind. I think I'm going to say this: it comes naturally, and I think people should enjoy this strong wind and this freedom. The wind in the ancient city blows the trees in front of the window. In the winter when peanuts and persimmons are harvested, the wind stops at the lights of the ancient houses and at the fire in the middle of the night. The wind in the ancient city is like stormy waves. Ah, where are the wanderers' houses? It's a canoe, right? Let it flow! Let it go everywhere! Then, you can blow, wind, the wind that makes a metallic sound, like the wind that melts in the night. The night is deep, and the more quiet I feel. Just blow, blow, wind, with the power of persuasion and joy, and the lamp is extremely bright. On September 22nd, 1949, carts (Ren Zhihong) Ai Qing was in the area where the Yellow River flowed. In countless dry river-bottom carts, a single wheel made the gloomy sky convulse through the cold and silence. From one foot of the mountain to that foot of the mountain, the sadness of the people in the north was heard. On the day of freezing snow and ice, between poor villages and small villages, the carts portrayed deep ruts on the gray loess layer with a single wheel. Crossing the vastness and desert, from this road to that road, the sadness of the people in the north is intertwined. In early 1938, Chengdu, let me shake you up (Wang Shilin Jing Yidan) He Qifang does have a big and lively Beijing, but my Beijing is small and quiet. -Chengdu, B·R·Epomehk is desolate and small, and it looks like people who have spent countless absurd nights are asleep. Although there have been torches burning in parades, there have also been piercing alarms. Although children in boats have been transported to Chongqing from various war zones, only the country is their parents. Although the enemy bombed Guangzhou day and night, our only remaining gateway to the sea, although the new Great Wall in Wan Li is the flesh and blood of frontline soldiers. I can't help sighing sadly like B·R·Epomehk: Although Chengdu is asleep, it is not a place for people to sleep, and this is not an era for people to sleep. This era makes me want to laugh loudly and shout loudly, but Chengdu makes me lonely, which makes me think about Mayekovsky's criticism of Ye Saining's suicide: "It is easy to die, but it is more difficult to live." Once upon a time in the north, I sang like this: "North, you have been paralyzed for many years, and the robber's fist has hit your joints. Why don't you slap him back?" North, I want to leave you and go back to my hometown, because in your rigid Yuan Ye, happiness is so little and winter is so long. " So Marco Polo Luo Qiao's cannon rang, and his arm, which had been paralyzed for many years, also raised the banner to resist, so the enemy snatched our Peiping, Shanghai and Nanjing, and countless cities groaned under his ravages, so everyone forgot their personal sorrows and sorrows, and the people of the whole country were connected into a steel chain. I am a tiny link between the long steel chains, but I am as stubborn as the strongest. I finally opened my eyes like a blind man, and saw the light from the depths of darkness. That great light came to me and came to my country ... 3 However, I was in Chengdu, where there was an atmosphere of enjoyment and laziness, and I paid attention to food as much as in the decline and fall of Rome. Moreover, because of filth, stale and sin, I filled my stomach with everything, so I fell asleep in the sunny morning, although there was a torch burning in the parade. Let me open your window, your door, Chengdu, and let me wake you up. On this sunny morning! In June, 1938, Ye Ting, a prison song in Chengdu, locked the door for people to come in and out, opened the hole for dogs to climb out, and a voice shouted:-Climb out and set you free! I long for freedom, but I deeply know-how can a human body climb out of a dog hole! I hope that one day the underground fire will burn me even this living coffin. I deserve eternal life in fire and blood! 1942-11-21 Departure (Guan Tong, Zhang Zequn) When the grass was quietly green that night, a message spread all over the universe softly-what was lurking in the shadow? What fire, what light, what trembling hands? Oh, don't ask; No matter how strange the road is, don't remember how many memory snakes are crawling behind you, joy and bitterness, expectations and disappointment ... Stepping over the sloping walls, let the dying century sleep deeply. When the grass was quietly green at night, a message spread softly throughout the universe-the frame-up of time could not stop us. Didn't the desolate distant generation already have that bright first lamp? Cruel civilization is killing primitive humanity with hypocrisy and conspiracy, let us be ourselves first; Each transformation has its own beginning and completion. When the grass was quietly green at night, a message spread softly all over the universe-countless lines were drawn from a point. A point, a small dot, leads to countless larger circles. Oh, we can't let cunning lies deceive us! Let's set out, in every morning that abandoned the night! Unit 1948 The Light of Nature Wildflowers on the Hillside (Sun Xiaomei) Liu Hui Wildflowers are in full bloom, and the flowers all over the mountains face the sky like the lips of spring. A teenager is singing a song. Who can hear the vague lyrics clearly? The wild flowers on the hillside, this small, broken color seems to be fragments of time flowing out from the cracks in spring. This heartbreaking beauty is even a little beautiful. The wild flowers in the remote sun and the wild flowers in the rain die on this mountain without regrets. Who can see this scene if he has no comfort in roaming? If he is facing the wild flowers on this hillside more and more lightly in pain, who can not be ashamed? The wind is blowing. The wind is interwoven with the sound of sunshine. Who is not whipped by the whip of everything? The lost will be gone forever, and I will continue to travel on the earth. Who knows the secret of wild flowers? How can my tears not come out when they will soon disappear? Firefox (Ji Xiaojun) Han Zuorong Firefox crossed the snowfield and drew a bleeding wound in Shan Ye. Perhaps this is a potential injury close to instinct, just like the wind can't help dancing on the grass tip and being adjacent to silence. It is the sadness that is pale due to blood loss and indifferent to elegant and restrained emotions. The eyes are washed with ancient liquid day and night, and two piles of anxious fires in the pupil are extinguished. Firefox is still beautiful, like a brilliant lie temptation to bring me into a seemingly calm and violent oh. Your false fire, the red cloth that performs magic, I count your mysterious footprints. A drop of rain in Eglitis drowned in summer, and your false lips will never roll up again. The sun is far away. Not in my veins. In September (Li Xiuping), Yang Xiaomin's distant sky, a bird landed on any pile of grain piles, and this day became full. I gradually bent down into the most beautiful flowing water on the earth, and the red leaves fluttered over all the mountains and all the banks. I matured in the unobstructed blessing. Even on a gloomy rainy night, I looked up with the best. The sun shines on you, and the sun shines on the edge of autumn (Hai Xia) in Li Shaojun. I have been to many small towns in Kashgar in the west, Miao Village in western Hunan and Jingbian in northern Shaanxi. Zhaotong, Yunnan ... These borderlands with different dynasties and different customs are now scattered on the edge of the desert or hidden in the mountains and jungles. They are lonely corners, peacefully content with the forgotten fate. What I miss most about these borderlands, big or small, are the red and white wildflowers that are not desolate on the desolate land. Unit 3 You and I Beyond the Smoke (Dong Qing) Love called your name in the waves and your name has come outside Qian Fan. The tide has gone to the shoe print on the left, and the shoe print on the right is dusk in the afternoon. June used to be a very sentimental book with such a sad ending-you still stare at the pure white in that man's eyes when the sun sets. He kneels down to you and looks at the cloud and sea that was beautiful all afternoon yesterday. Why can you catch that blank light among all the lights? Your eyes, which were once called clouds, are now called cigarettes, not goodbye (Yao Xuesong) Gu Cheng. We have said goodbye for two years, and the result is always goodbye. Tonight, you really have to go, really, not goodbye. What else do you need? Cold hands, is it a letter without a handkerchief? Letter? In that world of paper, there is our garden. We used to play in the garden and draw patterns on the clean steps. We danced with the patterns, forgetting that the sky is dark and the huge Mars is still slowly spinning. Now, let the flame finish reading. How warm it is with a bright smile. I miss you to look at me again. However, no, the smoke is floating. Let's go, love is still burning. Let's go. Go further and further. When everything disappears in the sound of insects, you will see the fence of dawn. Please open the door of that fence and stand quietly. Stand and sleep like a flower. You will get the sun in silence. This is my wish: the snow-white wall (deer). Mom Liang Xiaobin, I see the snow-white wall. In the morning, I went to the street to buy crayons and saw a worker painting a long fence with great effort. He turned and smiled at me. He told me to tell all the children not to doodle on this wall in the future. Mom, I see the snow-white wall. It used to be so dirty that there were many rude words written on it. Mom, you cried, too. Because of those insults, dad is gone, forever. Whiter than the milk I drink, whiter than the wall, has been flashing in my dream, it is still standing on the horizon, shining charming light in the daytime, I love white walls. Never scribble on this wall, no, it's as mild as a mother's clear sky, do you hear? Mom, I see the snow-white wall. I have nothing (Sha Tong) Cui Jian. I have been asking you endlessly when you will come with me, but you always laugh at me for having nothing. I want to give you my pursuit and my freedom, but you always laugh at me for having nothing. Oh, when you walk with me, the ground is flowing beside you, but you always laugh at me for having nothing. Why do you always laugh too much? Why do I always pursue? Do I always have nothing in front of you? When will you come with me? I've been waiting for a long time. I'll tell you my last request. I'll grab your hands. You'll come with me. At this moment, your hands are shaking. Are you telling me that you love me and have nothing? Oh, you can come with me. Unit 4 Song of Hope Paradise Bird (Ju Ping) Dai Wangshu is flying, flying, spring, summer, autumn, winter, day and night, without rest. Paradise bird in Yu Hua. Drink dew when you are thirsty, and drink dew when you are hungry. Yu Hua's paradise bird, is this a delicacy for the gods, or is it for homesickness for the sky? Did you come from paradise or go to paradise? Yu Hua paradise bird, in the vast blue sky, do you feel lonely on your way? If you're from paradise, can you tell us, paradise bird of Yu Hua, how deserted the garden on that day has been since Adam and Eve were banished? Believe in the future (Yang Chen, Zhu Jun) My forefinger seized my stove mercilessly as a spider's web. When the smoke of ashes sighed with poverty and sorrow, I still stubbornly paved the ashes of disappointment and wrote with beautiful snowflakes: Believe in the future. When my purple grapes turn into dew in late autumn, when my flowers snuggle up to other people's feelings, I still stubbornly write on the desolate land with frosted vines: Believe in the future. I want to use my fingers to wave to the horizon, I want to support the sea that holds the sun with my hands, and the warm and beautiful pen that shakes the dawn writes with the child's pen: Believe in the future. The reason why I firmly believe in the future is that I believe in people's eyes in the future-she has eyelashes to brush away the dust of history, and she has pupils to see through the chapters of the years. No matter whether people give our rotten flesh, those lost sorrows and the pain of failure, they send moved tears and deep sympathy, or give contemptuous smiles and bitter ridicule. I firmly believe that people will give a warm, objective and fair evaluation of our spine, which has been explored, lost, failed and succeeded countless times. Yes, I am anxiously waiting for their evaluation. Friends, firmly believe in the future, believe in indomitable efforts, believe in the youth who overcomes death, believe in the future and love life. Blue Sailor (Kang Hui Chai Lu) Li Gang Blue Sailor Your voice is blue, Your cry has a lot of small serrations. What do you want to saw off and take away? You breathe deeply and breathe in so much transparent air. Are you going to dilute the blue salty sea breeze? The blue sailor jumped up from the beach and tore up a calendar casually. Put it in his trouser pocket and raised the Taiping axe to cut off your eyes. You floated into the sea blue and sky blue, waved your double fin drum and pushed the shore to the distance. You amphibious blue sailor, blue sailor, swam in your blue uniform. Hidden in the ocean in blue mist, the South China Sea sings a shallow song about Yangcheng in Cantonese, bleating and howling the tsunami whistle in the distance. The sun is rough. That guy's beard is itchy in a mighty blue. Anyway, you are a blue whale. After spring, you dive into the shell and listen to the heart sound of the sea. You can swim backstroke all summer. You can swim sideways and jump lightly across any sea area. If you are happy, you can spread your wings and fly to the Milky Way. It is nothing easier for you. Is that spectacular meteor shower an air battle or a naval battle? Anyway, you played well enough.