Chapter 4 Chapter 4

Knowing that he failed to become a painter, he decided to write poems as a poet.He has an acquaintance with a poet who lives on Dandelion Avenue.The poet's real name was Little Putt, but it is well known that all poets are very fond of pretty names.So, after Little Putt started writing poems, he chose another name for himself, called Little Flower. Once, Quan Zhi came to Xiaohua and said, "I said, Xiaohua, teach me how to write poetry. I also want to be a poet." "Are you talented?" Little Flower asked. "Of course I do. I'm very talented," replied Quan Zhi.

"It takes a test to find out," Xiaohua said, "Do you know what rhyming is?" "Rhyme? No, I don't know." "Rhyme—that is, two words that have the same final vowel," Xiaohua explained, "for example: crow-shrimp, elephant-fat. Do you understand?" "understood." "Then, you say a word that rhymes with 'pole'." "Azure," replied Omniscience. "Gan—Tianlan, what kind of rhyme is that! It doesn't rhyme at all." "Why don't they rhyme! Aren't they the same finals?" "That's not enough," said the little flower, "you have to have two words that are similar, so that you can be symmetrical. Now listen: pole-mountain, stove-candle, a big book-two small bundles."

"Got it, got it!" Quan Mo shouted. "Pole-mountain, stove-candle, a big book-two small bundles! This is great! Hahaha!" "Hey, you want a word that rhymes with 'seed dust'." Little Flower said. "Kaqiu," replied Omniscience. "What is Kaqi?" Little Hua asked in surprise, "Is there such a word?" "Isn't there?" "Of course not." "Then, tear it up." "What is Slue?" Little Hua asked again in surprise. "This is when... when you tear something up, it's tearing up sketches." Quan Bu explained.

"You're talking nonsense," Xiaohua said, "there is no such word. You should choose the word that everyone uses instead of making it up." "What if I can't choose another word?" "That means you don't have the talent for poetry." "Then figure out how to rhyme yourself," Quan Bu replied. "I'll think about it right away," agreed the little flower.He stood in the middle of the room, put his hands on his chest, and tilted his head in thought.Then he raised his head again, looking at the ceiling and thinking.Then resting his chin in both hands, he looked at the floor and thought.After doing this for a while, he began to walk up and down the room, muttering to himself in a low voice: "Small, stubborn, plundering, stuck, torn..." He closed his eyes for a while. After a long time, he said, "Bah! What kind of word is this? It's a word that doesn't rhyme."

"Look!" said Quan, happily, "you've come up with words that don't rhyme, and you've said I don't have talent." "Okay, you have talent, you have talent, just don't pester me any more!" said Little Flower, "I have a terrible headache. As long as you do it with thought and rhyme, it's poetry." "Is it that simple?" Quan Wu asked strangely. "Of course it's simple. The main thing is to have talent." I didn't know that when I got home, I immediately started writing poems.He walked up and down the room for a whole day, looking at the floor for a while and the ceiling for a while, resting his chin on his hand, muttering to himself.When the poem was finally finished, he said, "Brothers, listen to my poem."

"Okay, okay. What is this poem about?" Everyone asked with interest. "The poems I make are about you," said No Knowing, "just a poem that tells you everything— The know-it-all walks to the river, Suddenly skipped the little sheep. " "What?" cried the Know-it-all, "did we skip the little sheep?" "Hey, that's what it says in the poem, it's for rhyme," Quan Bu explained. "Are you making up lies about me just to rhyme?" Know-it-all irritated. "Of course," replied Quan Zhi, "why should I make up the truth? There is no need to make up the truth, it is the truth."

"Try to make up another one, and be careful!" Passenger threatened, "Quickly tell me, what else did you make up?" "Listen to the poem about Impatience," said All Knowing. Little Irritable is so hungry, Swallow a cool iron in one gulp. "Brothers!" cried Little Impatient, "what kind of poem did he make for me! I didn't swallow any cold iron." "Don't yell," said Clueless, "it's just for rhyme that you swallowed a cold iron." "I haven't swallowed any irons, neither cold nor hot!" shouted Little Impatient.

"I didn't say you swallowed the hot iron, so you can be quiet," Quan Mo replied, "Now listen to what Little May said: little may under the pillow There is a bundle of sweet twist. " Xiao Mayu walked to his bed, took a look under the pillow, and said, "Nonsense! There is no twist here." 'You don't know anything about poetry,' replied Quan Wu, "it's said to rhyme, but it doesn't.I also made a song for Xiaoyaojiu. " "Brothers!" shouted Doctor Xiaoyaowan, "this kind of insulting talk should stop! Shall we just sit quietly and listen to his making up for us?"

"That's enough," cried they all, "we don't want to hear any more! It's not a poem, it's a catchphrase to cheer people up." Only Know-it-all, Little Impatient, and Little May shouted, "Let him read! Since he has read ours, let him read other people's as well." "No! We don't want to hear it!" someone else yelled. "Since you don't want to hear it, I'll read it to the neighbors." Quan Zhi said. "What?" everyone shouted now, "you're going to insult us in front of the neighbors! How dare you! Then you won't come home."

"Well, brothers, I won't read," Quan Zhi agreed, "but don't be angry with me." After that, I didn't know anything and decided not to write poetry anymore.