Modern poetry of "Years"

Modern Poetry 1 of "Years"

(There are thousands of reasons to catch up with me

You still don't stop, looking ahead...

Far away, I can’t reach the loneliness in the desolation

I’m just admiring, the beauty of the moon, singing in a low voice

Your dreams are far away from my ideals

Your ideal is like a wolf in the wilderness at dusk

I can’t bear your loneliness

And I can’t possess the power you burst into running

From now on, my covering up is just to heal myself

Autumn is coming, wrap up your soul and skin

Don’t let the thin cold clothes hurt you in my heart anymore

Spring is here, let go of yourself, don’t forget

The time to go will not pity your sorrow

Nor will it be in your sleep )

"Years"

Author: Nei Huang Laonan

Childhood appearance, after growing up

Intangible, the kindness like my father’s generation

Looking for my childhood, but I can’t return to my hometown

Kindness seems to be covered by a net, I am outside the net...

When I was trapped in a net in my childhood, I couldn’t find any relief

I searched back and forth outside the net, panting

Looking for my shadow, far away in a trance

My heart has put a thread into the childhood in the net

From the inside, he has passed through the net of time and deeply strangled me

How far have I come , and I keep unwinding the thread again

The wind is floating the shadow of the thread, and the light is ruthlessly hiding the thread again

Only I know:

One hand Tight, the pain is from childhood

As soon as my hand loosened, it floated now.

Modern Poetry 2 of "Years"

Father

Is a majestic mountain

His unsmiling face

Is a silent mountain peak, green and verdant The years

are like hard teeth, chewing the bones of the years with a stubborn character

Father

is a heavy title

Slightly hunched body

Mountain-like stature on shoulders

Holding up the blue sky

Dry verses

Unable to describe

Now, my father’s ravaged face

It is like a profound book

A candle burning the years

Under the torture of Parkinson’s disease, tremblingly uttered

The glimmer of life, modern poetry of "Years" 3

Scattered all the way

All the way Wandering

I can’t let go of my longing

I just wish that the fallen leaves lingered and no one could be seen

The wind and rain all the way

The obstacles all the way

I can’t break my long-cherished wish to return

I only wish that the tears of separation between life and death will reappear

The gentle raindrops sprinkle into my heart

Nourishing the boundless attachment in my heart

Thinking makes you worry and stopping makes you stay safe

Prosperity is gone

I only blame the solitary swallow at the top of the city

Take my thoughts to the horizon

Until the strings disappear and the strings are broken

When the loss is sad, it is missed

When the flowers are broken, the willows are lost

I scold the autumn wind alone

Let my sadness block my heart

Tears all the way

Sweat all the way

Create youth without regrets

But let love and hate cut both sides

Waiting for the miracle to reappear

Discovering while waiting

The sorrow and blame of the journey Modern Poetry 4 of "Years"

In May, the fragrance of flowers Pervasive

However, my flowers

withered prematurely

Looking at the flowers and kissing the lilacs

My heart, But it hurts

Those turbulent winds galloping in the wind, but there are more worries

The flowers wither, the flowers fly, the misty rain and the fence fall

The promise suddenly comes, or, say no Clear pain

Life, fleeting fireworks, and the passing of years, are they mostly sad years?

How can I save you as a stupid person?

The dusk rain brings so much sadness and carries so much melancholy

In the blur, the eyes have long since disappeared, so how can they pick up the stars and the moon

In the past Years, time? space? It has long been beyond repair

People in the past, time? space? It has long been impossible to play back

Why do you bother, why bother to mourn the world

——Foreword

The kapok has faded, the fragrance has died prematurely, and the flowers are in full bloom. Spring has already passed, and my heart has become dry inexplicably. In this year, time has long been ruthless, or maybe this is the whirling universe, and what is deserted must be sentimental. The last rays of the setting sun. Gradually, it turns away from the west mountain, forming an arc and disappearing into the mountains thousands of miles away. The clouds swirling in the sky have already turned the night sky crimson. The slightly tipsy thoughts danced along with the wind, spreading to the end of the world and filling the sky. The moon has already emerged, hanging on the treetops, shining brightly. Spring has gone, and now, the night sky with bright stars and clouds is the world of summer again.

My God, why do you always look hazy in the dark night? Is it to tell the existence of the moon?

Water, why do you still flow through the ditch in the dark night? It is to tell the passage of light.

What about me, a person in three thousand worlds, what should I perform and shine as the dust in the universe?

The moonlight has already filled the desk. In front of me, the cup of hot water has a slight warmth, blending with the cold light, trying to bring back my wandering thoughts. Wind, why do you rage in the dark night? The lonely atmosphere in the air is mixed with desolation, and the coldness of the night, like this, freezes the rare warmth and tortures a heart that has long been broken. Why do you have to worry about the vicissitudes of life, and why do you need to be heartbroken and weeping. The tenderness of that life has long been precipitated in memory, did you know?

What a stupid person, how should I rescue you, put you in the secluded world, bathe in earthly fire, and wait for your nirvana.

Tears have already blurred my eyes. Five hundred years? Why do people in the empty time rejoice and why do they rejoice. I am confused and still don’t understand. Then why, then why, time is always so careless, breaking youth and ruining appearance. Five hundred years? When the years have washed away the beauty, and there are more winds and frosts in the passing years, why do people cry and mourn.

Leaning against the window railing, staring blankly at the shadow of the moon, the quiet moon, the mottled shadows of the trees, the yellowing lights, a few chirping insects from time to time, another sleepless night, bright stars and bright clouds, The night sky shines brightly. The sky is like water, swaying with shadows, lingering with a touch of sadness

What a fool, it is spring when you raise your hand, and it is autumn when you drop your hand. You know how many years you have been wrong, do you understand? ? Those past memories have long been left in the dust of the earth with the wind. As the years go by, do you know how many seasons they have bloomed?

You are heaven and earth, why do you feel sorry for heaven and earth? Is it worth it? Should it?

The years are urging people, the wind is setting the flowers, and where are the flowers blooming in that season... Maybe a little bit of it has moistened both sides of the bank, and it is filled with fragrance. You What a pity...

Gradually I understand that water, moon, mirror, flowers are all virtual images, and birds and fish are just fiction. Five hundred years? Three lives of reincarnation?

Five hundred years? A joke, after several years and wasted time, what is left is finally filled with vicissitudes of life and sorrow.

Three lives of love? It’s a joke. I am a person of dust. I no longer believe in the afterlife, let alone talk about the afterlife.

Gradually I understand that Tianfang is just a legend and Shenglou is just a dream. It’s time for you to understand, it’s time for you to realize.

Well, melancholy should not be the reason why the ivy is spreading. It is climbing, and it is spreading the voice of the heart.

Let’s go, with the words in my heart, let’s go, towards the moon.

He left, walking step by step towards the sky. Until the end of time, the seas and rocks rotted away, disappearing in the shifting stars one after another, leaving behind inch after inch of footprints, which will remain immortal in the eight wilderness and nine states for a long time.

Well, he left, walking step by step towards the moon. The curvature of the corners of his mouth disappears in the years of each season.

What can save you? Your heart, a heart that has been broken long ago. What about people? Can you still piece together those broken mottled parts? Are you still greedy?

No, no. Originally it was Whispering, so why destroy it?

What has gone through is only the years, what has aged is only innocence, and what has passed away is only innocence.

It’s too heavy. It doesn’t matter if you throw it away or forget it. You shouldn’t fall in love with it, so why should you mourn it.

Gradually I understand that the earth is moving. Gradually it became clear that people are moving. Sadness pervades? Depression? The scar in your heart?

Joke, joke, I am the world, so why should I feel sorry for the world?

There is a little more light in the sky. yes? Well, a paper crane with a heart.

With the light flowing in the sky, what should be kept and what should be promised.

Cold the heart, extinguished the emotion, flashed the light, shined

Maybe, maybe

The dust, from which all things are born, will be destroyed Here

What about me? What kind of Dunhuang should the dust in the universe be like? Modern Poetry 5 of "Years"

The passing years are like water, taking away the joys and sorrows of the past, leaving only the indifference of the present.

The indifference today comes from the innocence and uneasiness of the past.

Because I am naive, I cannot see clearly this world full of malice;

Because I am uneasy, I bear too much sadness alone.

When you see it clearly, you understand it;

When you get used to it, you become calm.

I once thought that all the sadness would accumulate in my heart and become heavier and heavier.

Unexpectedly, the passage of time has diluted the sadness, washed away the tears, and cleaned the wounds.

When the pain becomes lighter, the tears become less and less, the sadness becomes less intense, and people become calmer.

When the sky is clear, enjoy the warm sunshine and cool breeze;

When it rains heavily, listen to the sound of raindrops.

In the warm spring season, the heart blooms like a flower;

In the bleak autumn season, the heart is as calm as a fallen leaf.

If there is no way to go through the mountains and rivers, if you look for it quietly, you will surely find a way out of the desperate situation;

If the road is tortuous and difficult to walk, if you patiently experience it, you will definitely have beautiful scenery and insights.

The passing years have taken away the persistence and sadness, leaving only indifference to the years.

Everything in the past is a part of life. Once you have passed it, you have to let it go.

Keep what should be remembered in your heart and leave what should be forgotten behind.

When the years are only indifferent, say goodbye to sadness and move towards the future. Modern Poetry 6 of "Years"

That year I said goodbye to my parents and left home,

I boarded a train in a foreign land and went out to work,

I carried the quilt on my back and carried my clothes,

I bravely ventured into the world.

That day, I came to a strange city and walked into the prosperity,

Lived in a low work shed,

Climbed a high scaffolding,

I spoke the native dialect,

I sweated as hard as I could.

It’s not easy to go out.

No matter how hard and tired you are, you have to grit your teeth.

The days of working are very difficult.

How old are you? Not afraid of any difficulties,

For the girl I love,

For my elderly father and mother,

For the dignity of life today,

In order to change my life tomorrow,

I will bear it no matter how hard or tiring it is!

Let the wind and rain blow.

I carried the words of my hometown elders on my back,

I bravely traveled to the end of the world,

Speaking the hometown dialect,

I tried my best to Sweating,

It’s not easy to go out,

No matter how hard and tired you are, you have to grit your teeth.

The days of working are very hard,

I am not afraid of any difficulties,

For the girl I love,

For the elderly Dad and Mom,

For the dignity of life today,

For changes in life tomorrow.

I carried the words of my hometown elders on my back,

I bravely traveled to the end of the world,

Speaking the hometown dialect,

I tried my best to Sweat. Modern Poetry 7 of "Years"

All original sins are not original sins, but the manifestations of greed and the consequences of excessive desire.

I let go and felt calm. If you hold it, you will never be at peace.

Time is not days, it is the rush of running water and the slight indulgence of floating clouds.

Don’t lose face because of your gains and losses, and don’t stop suddenly because of my hatred.

Sewing a crack, with a needle but without a needle, with a thread but without a needle, is all in vain.

Guard your castle, guard your stubbornness, guard the blessings of your descendants.

The heart is no longer the heart, the dream is no longer a dream, only a wisp of white hair, looking back at the blue hair.

The years will eventually go away, just like meeting your own death, like living a shameful soul.

What kind of sin will be infinitely expanded if the opposite occurs? South of time, north of time.

We are almost halfway through the journey, so why do we become so pale with virtual age? Why is the poetry turning yellow and so difficult?

The sun still shines in the east; the moon still blooms in the west window.

Look, that one is golden; listen, that one is charming. That peach, that plum.

The life one after another, the thoughts one after another, the feelings one after another.

Still looking for the years, looking for time, looking for the intertwining of wind and rain, curling up.

The mortal world is like smoke; the past is like a dream. A volume of poems with ancient rhymes, a deposit of inkstone fragrance.

The wind blows through the creek, all the way to the east, waving red, orange and blue all the way, and never returns. Modern Poetry 8 of "Years"

My years, I promise you to accompany me.

Let the casual glances become the eternal scenery in each other's memories.

If you remember, let’s meet Lan Zhou’s hand.

Do you still feel unwilling to accept the endless changes in your heart?