Ah, the sun, my friend,
Stretch your golden lotus!
Rise the shining giant graupel.
Split the dark clouds of suffering full of tears!
I know you're sitting among the lotus flowers,
Loose hair glistened with golden light.
Sanskrit that awakens everything.
Burning strings fly out of your arms.
this present life
At the first dawn, you kissed everything.
My pure forehead.
The light flow ignited by your kiss
There are brilliant waves surging in my heart.
A flame that never dies.
Jump and whistle in my song.
I wrote a game program with a hickey.
Dance in the rhythmic torrent.
Crazy music
Mixed with passionate feelings
Floating in all directions.
Your kiss will also make your heart cry for no reason,
Inexplicable sadness.
I would like to salute you in the burning fire.
The image of the truth I seek is a tribute.
Ancient poet, sleeping seaside
You blew the reed flute to dispel the darkness.
It is my heart;
The wind stays away from the flute hole
Lots of clouds in the sky,
The fragrant wheat straw in full bloom in the forest,
Ding-dong of rock spring.
Dynamic spring in the ups and downs of the melody
I'm all over.
My soul is a lost song.
You board the boat of music,
Embrace the vast land curiously,
Wandering on the river of years with a smile.
Ashwin Moon (1) Warm sunshine.
My bound soul
Unwilling to be lonely, restless
Like jasmine with dew.
Refracted light.
I was dumbfounded by your dancing beam on the mountain peak.
Look me in the eye.
What's in the treasure house of heat?
You gave it to me?
What dreams are woven in my heart?
All kinds of colors?
The female messenger you sent.
Painting in the high hall of Hirono,
In a flash, it's been a long time.
That intangible and wonderful fantasy
Hiding.
Laughing and cursing back to normal-
Don't lock me up.
Slav Moon (2) Female Ambassador
Hiding in trembling green leaves,
Ankle and jump over rocks
The gurgling sound of spring water;
Vissac month (3) drinking the wine of the storm,
Drunk dancing, the sky shook.
The spring of parting.
Gifts are soft.
Busy for a while,
They disappeared on the horizon of poverty,
No footprints.
Ah, the sun, in your palace
The golden flute in autumn plays divine comedy.
Have a world of morning glory, dew, tears and sweet smiles.
Sometimes cheerful, sometimes melancholy.
I don't know who to listen to my song,
Suddenly there was crazy enthusiasm,
Like a monk traveling along the road of space.
Fly to you intently,
Carrying a flower basket.
A bright beggar can walk in like a sleepwalker.
Your temple?
Ah, Sun, open the door.
Hold my long-awaited song in my arms;
The bank of the fire spring pursues the baptism of "tranquility"
Wash away all confusion and fear.
Sunset in cinnabar belt at dusk
Colour her distribution line red;
Use the morning star at dawn
In her delicate eyebrows
Describe auspicious moles;
Accompanied by the powerful rhythm of the waves
Play twilight.
(1) Print the solar calendar in June, and the solar calendar in September is 10.
(2) printed calendar in April, solar calendar from July to August.
(3) printed calendar in the first month, the Gregorian calendar from April to May.
dewdrop
Tears said:
"My life is so short.
Like a child's fantasy,
Born to be human, died to be human.
Alas, I just woke up.
At sunrise, Fairy Fairy cried with joy.
As long as she stops smiling,
Immediately atrophy and disappear.
Roses raise pink cheeks,
Show a sweet and moving smile.
Jasmine is the nectar of life,
The wind is addicted to sipping.
Butterflies can't make up their minds,
Who have you been married to all your life,
Flap your tired wings.
Flying among the flowers.
Oh, why can't I be here?
Immersed in their joy forever?
Why does it bounce off like eyelashes?
That brief moment of excitement,
With a dissatisfied smile.
Sad to leave a beautiful world? "
Lying on the green leaves of worry-free flowers,
The dying dew lamented, "Alas,
The joy is not over yet,
Why did life wither so early! "
The young poet said with a sigh:
"Why am I not a dewdrop,
Open your eyes every morning,
Life withers at once.
Oh, my God, you created.
My wet life,
Why not give it to me?
Dew-like death? "
Qimxy
Full of time, full of vast and clear sky,
The sleeping God is dreaming a grand dream.
In an empty dream,
Vast land
Like a bubble floating in his heart,
The rising sun and moon, the rising dusk and dawn,
Hundreds of millions of bright galaxies have risen.
Planets and satellite groups rotate endlessly,
Day and night are ups and downs in the sky.
The lonely sea sings all year round,
The spirits of thousands of rivers gather at their feet.
The river is gurgling and the spring is trickling.
Clouds roar dull, tsunami solemn;
Feng Gang, grinning, walked out of the old mansion.
Countless rough hands pluck the pipa of trees;
Like Shan Yao's icy laughter,
Glaciers howl and roll into deep valleys;
The head of the forest shook his hair,
The songs echoing everywhere are sad and sad.
Pieces of land emit wonderful sound waves,
A hymn to a broad mind.
The scenery and creatures of this dreamland.
A constantly changing new body shape.
Flowers bear fruits, and fruits become seeds.
The new trees in the forest are colorful.
Water vapor condenses into clouds, which turn into showers.
The waterfall broke through the confinement of the mountains.
Melting snow in summer flies to the crematorium,
Put out the flames of the burning body.
Summer rain turns into white-haired winter,
It is also like the beautiful mountain flowers that Zhu Chadi sent back to spring.
Everything is new except the eternal heart,
New dreams are brewing in the eternal heart.
People created in incomplete dreams are slaves of habits,
Make unremitting efforts to win sober perfection.
His only wish is:
Understanding has torn the veil of confusion.
When can the best soul wake up from sleep?
Will the dream of a world deficit gradually come true?
Shadows of the sun, moon and stars.
Dissolve in the twinkling heart.
The earth exploded, one star after another.
Like one broken bubble after another.
A creature brighter than a star.
It seems that all the blisters have disappeared.
Great God, is there really a moment when great dreams are gone forever?
Half truth and half falsehood will sink into the sea of truth?
Your heart lurks in half destroyed water,
When will it be completely destroyed? Tell me, Great God!
(1) the powerful son-in-law of Venus in Indian mythology.
Shuixiang town
The children are fast asleep,
The game is over.
The soft evening breeze passed through the window lattice,
Comfort their eyelids.
They are playing games and lying down one by one.
Playing at your feet.
They stagger, the love of the gods.
Hanging over them like a shadow.
Thick hair that the wind blows again and again.
Scratch their faces.
Xinghui landed in the air with a smile.
Kiss and then kiss.
Their slightly parted lips.
The bright stars looked down all night,
Whispering to each other,
Whispering to each other,
The skirt pocket is woven with light and shadow.
A sweet dream of laughter,
Walk into the hearts of children.
The next day, the rising sun pushed the fields away.
Colorful flowers,
The children opened their eyes from their dreams,
Fatigue has been eliminated.
The bright red sun woke them up,
They have more fun.
Flower-like children bathed in the sun,
The early bird is chirping and singing.
Yoga walker
The waning moon arrival. Yoga walker
Facing the vast sea,
The sky above him, unkempt long hair shawl,
Waiting for the red sun to rise,
Tall, naked, the vast sky is shining,
Hands folded, serene,
Staring at the eastern sky, the moist and warm sea breeze.
Blowing his thick chest.
The ends of the earth are clearly visible, and the earth is asleep.
The yogi stood quietly.
The timid tide receded and came back,
Wash the dust off his feet.
It's quiet around, and I can't smell the noise of the world.
The sea sings softly,
Full of piety, with the grandeur of Hongbo
Praise the rising sun.
Yogis are like statues. A ray of light at first sight
Reflect his calm face.
The ghost behind him closed his eyes,
Start a day of meditation.
Looking up at the east, the bright glow.
Drowning the forehead of the morning sky,
The monk who abandoned his family suddenly pointed to the sky.
Recite the Vedas.