"Silent Night Thinking" poem: The foot of the bed is bright, and there is frost? . I looked up at the moon and looked down, feeling nostalgic.
The bright moonlight sprinkled on enough paper in front of the bed, as if the ground was frosted. That day, I couldn't help looking up at the bright moon in the sky outside the window, thinking about everything in my hometown, thinking about my relatives at home, and I couldn't help but bow my head and meditate.
Just four poems, written fresh and simple, clear as words. Its content is simple, but it is also rich. This is easy to understand, but it is endless. The poet said nothing more than what he had already said. Its conception is meticulous and profound, but it blurts out without trace.