About the Author
Takeda Ping, born in 1963, hometown of Saibei. At the age of sixteen, he not only liked literature, but also took advantage of the opportunity to go to secondary school, fooled around the profession, read a wide range of Chinese and foreign masterpieces, and filled in a "Qingping Music" and the class blackboard newspaper. After joining the work, a volume of the notebook of the original manuscript of modern poetry accumulated during the two years of school, repeatedly revised, and prepared to be submitted was lost by Zhiyou. Another accumulation of literary books in two cartons was left in the warehouse of the storage unit by a child from a hole in the glass window (because he found a copy in his house). She cried tired and put down her favorite words for more than forty years. After retirement, there is nothing to do, and occasionally I find that there are still groups of people who are engaged in near-body poetry writing, which is suitable for my lazy and thoughtful people. So I participated, the skills were average, and I only wanted to express my heart.
A selection of poems
The second Yan Ze Huai Brother "Wenxin Hongtai Mountain Climbing to the Top" rhymes
Climb to the top of the white clouds and return calmly.
Read all the colors of the world, and hide the Wan lingfeng in your chest.
Long goodbye home (two first choice)
The flying car is out of the customs, and the sky is open.
The trees and grass are low on the plains, and the yin mountains are coming.
Heavy snow is enough
The short winter is approaching, and the ice and snow make flowers.
The head of the building is obliquely counted, and it is jackdaws that come and go.
Tsumen February senses spring
The cypress order is warming up, and the peach blossoms are sprouting.
The partridge couldn't go away, and it made me miss the mountain house.
For the first time, he rode a shared bicycle to visit his postpartum daughter and grandson
Spring breeze vanilla breath, magpies around the branches low.
Pick up the fun of the year, light car racing horseshoe.
Li Qiu has a feeling
The leaves move and the autumn wind rises, and the cloud river gradually opens.
Once half a lifetime, I don't know how to come.
Locust flowers
The red powder has disappeared without a trace, and the sweet taste is suddenly strong.
Looking up at the wind, a tree and a moon are hazy.
Title Mr. Feng Zhengrong snow map
The snow is not as white as the peaks, and the corner of the Banwo Mountain is low.
Silent pine seeds fall, and the color is in unison.
The gentleman idly threw away the rolls, and stayed by the fence to watch the chickens.
The peach orchard is not ancient, and fireworks cross the East Stream.
Visit your fall-after-fall mother
Don't rely on the guilt for the time being, and toddlers and tones.
Middle-aged Pepsi is tired, and the first difficulty is filial piety.
Qiqian Village looked around
A beach of grass and a river, several families guard the nest.
Still and silent non-canvas, Bian Jun pointed to the right Kun'a.
Stroll around Sun Island
The water of the Songhua River is unknown, and a long song and tears have invaded.
The half-age leads the black earth to the east, and it is good to see it for a long time.
Note: The long song refers to "Songhua River".
View the waterfall of the Hanging Corner Tower of The Lake
The morning sun shines out of the neon, and the falling roars with water and wind.
The creation of graffiti should believe in the pen, it is difficult to ask taibai to write Lu Gong.
Early winter morning
Wind frost first tried the grass yellow, na qi still smelled the fragrance of fallen leaves.
The eaves are amphibious family finches, and they are cold with people.
Drive over the Kunlun Mountains
Kunlun birds are sparsely grassed, and lonely mountains are accompanied by sunset.
Suddenly, the yak was shocked, and the clouds were sent to the mystery.
Don't go home for a long time
Bai Lu gave birth to a cold wanderer, and the blue sky looked at the pure heart.
A few remnants of flowers are still there, stretching out the idle clouds and the opportunity.
Mourning Mother (3)
When the new clothes are still waiting, the pain of children and grandchildren is not yet in place.
Wearing a torn vest is easy to use, and that can be folded into sadness.
Admire the maple leaves
The curtain is magnificently red, and the beauty sighs the same.
In the coming year, the king can follow the spring and autumn, and the white hair can be lush again.
Juyongguan
The ridge winds and winds with nine clouds, and Xiongguan looks up to the former dynasty.
Cangsang fell full of imperial dreams, and the bones were piled up into a Mengnu ballad.
The iron horse He Kan shot a gun, and the city wall was already Jing Qianyao.
Mizhen history is known to people small, and the ancient autumn wind plugs the outer string.
At the end of the year, Gengzi lived in a comfortable place
Tea is made several times to taste quietly, and the camp is hot and cold.
Du Shan Yan can ignore it, and Shuang Ying would rather swallow himself.
The wind hissed outside the window, and the shadow of the moon's branches grew.
Looking north at Yanguan for three hundred miles, why bother with the blue sky and cold air?
A thousand poems
Editor-in-chief: Zheng Wancai
Deputy editors-in-chief: Wang Huiling, Hu Min, Liu Chenghao, Wang Tianming, Hu Xiaona
Editors: Liu Yanfang, Yang Yulong, Liu Aihong, Wei Huabiao, Xie Xunlie
Copyright note: The poems issued by "A Thousand Poems" are authorized by the author
![The willow outside the green skull, the red song at the water's edge, is just suitable for decorating the parting of the vastness[fig]](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAP///wAAACwAAAAAAQABAAACAkQBADs=)