家，對我們而言，是葉落所能回歸的根;是孤雁所能向往的'巢;是江河所能擁抱的海;是航船所能依靠的岸。家是我們溫馨的港灣。以下是關(guān)于家的外國現(xiàn)代詩歌，歡迎閱讀。

　　關(guān)于家的外國現(xiàn)代詩歌1

　　The home has more than a thousand years.

　　scar

　　I walk my life with it.

　　In the spring and autumn winter and summer

　　I'm holding it through the years.

　　bie

　　The scar is deeply rooted in the body.

　　Under the heart

　　The scar and the cheek cannot cover it.

　　Hide it

　　I look at it in my heart.

　　Ge leave

　　You can't take it off with it.

　　caring

　　After all, it's a shame.

　　scar

　　After all, it makes the day short.

　　Decent talk

　　This millennium is ugly.

　　scar

　　Let my feet go to the world.

　　Want to scar

　　The scar made me see the neighborhood.

　　Face lights up

　　It's hard to keep the rain going.

　　And under the

　　There are so many of them.

　　So much fear

　　I want to change my family and be afraid of plastic surgery.

　　Tweezers shear knife and fork

　　The long clay bowl refused.

　　Put down the

　　The shortsighted eye for killing the goose that lays the eggs makes the poor.

　　Home every year

　　The idea of a year in a year is to let the bottle.

　　Speak for the lazy

　　The country sold the cattle.

　　Now the flower

　　It is a pity that a hundred mu of mulberry garden is full of roots.

　　Every slope Wa

　　A home of ignorance and ignorance.

　　Old school and sloth are like giving.

　　magic

　　I can't lift that scar for myself.

　　Under the sad heart

　　I wore my old coat for the old parents.

　　Surface flatness

　　You can't take it away.

　　Under the heart

　　I haven't changed my clothes.

　　Give up it

　　The one that affected my hometown.

　　scar

　　Sooner or later, somebody needs to get rid of it.

　　I'm looking forward to the new meat breeding home.

　　One day he was humiliated.

　　關(guān)于家的外國現(xiàn)代詩歌2

　　In the afternoon

　　The sun was rolling in the sky.

　　The sun was sprinkled on the clean ground.

　　They looked like the eyes of a few tearful flowers.

　　It was like a heap of glowing white fire.

　　The casement window was burned.

　　The smell of sunshine.

　　The smell of solid wood rosin.

　　There was also the smell of paper smell from the old house shelves.

　　The old cat was sleeping on his chair.

　　It's getting old

　　It never seemed to wake up.

　　The dream is full of butterflies.

　　Two or three jumps between the calla lily.

　　Suddenly high and low, came and went, and came again.

　　Never leave the old cat's butterfly.

　　The hostess is usually sewing at this time.

　　Her man is far away.

　　She will wait for him.

　　She will wait for him to come back and put on his new cloth shoes.

　　Because of that thousand layers of shoes that the woman wanted to say to the man.

　　She has to put a man's mind on it.

　　Tether the house

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