Modern poetry of small island birds at night

It was a quiet night.

There was not a star in the sky that belonged to me.

At night, I was as boundless as the sea as black paint.

I was a lonely soul.

I was only accompanied by a shadow.

I was bored, and my spirit was locked tightly.

I was happy, and I was no longer pious. Push open the blocked' heart door'

Open the boundless night

Pick up the bamboo pole of faith

Hold up the boat that didn't belong to me

Wander around secretly

The wind blows gently

Blow the boat to a brightly lit island

People on the island are talking and laughing

Wow, it's full of larks in the flower season <

June's red lotus

looks like her slim figure;

Qiuju in September

is as proud as she bathes in wind and frost;

The blooming Chimonanthus praecox

is that she dominates in the snow

Time is running quietly

One minute,

Another second

But we are totally ignorant

Night, and we walk too fast

Quietly

The dawn is coming

The misty sleepiness gives me a stretch. I don't want to leave

this happy island

but this

doesn't belong to my nest

At night, the island

lovely lark

everything

is like smoke

lingering in front of my eyes.