North Island
Rainy night
When a new leaf is shaken in a puddle at night
It's like shaking one's own child to sleep
When the light is strung with raindrops
adorning your shoulder
flashing, and then falling to the ground
You say. No
The tone is so firm
But the smile reveals the inner secret
Haizi
Night
Dark village with water
Birds croak under the shallow sand
The fruit grows up underground like a dumb man's door
The fish quietly sneak in the arms of a dreaming girl
Part of the night Who is the mother of the night?
That night, I grew up in front of the door like a mute and called the door.
Birds called like birds dedicated to the lips of the night.
On the lips of the night outside the door, I wrote your name.
Yu Guangzhong
The night is like a net.
Do you know how the night is blurred?
from the sea? A fishing fire after a fishing fire?
from land? Street lamp after street lamp?
from the wind? One bird after another?
The great skynet is sparse but not leaking
The hand that casts a net creates something out of nothing
Do you know how to put it and how to collect it?
Look at the oblique line of Pinus massoniana under the slope.
It's full of hair and fluffy hair. The backlit posture
is becoming more and more ambiguous and hazy.
The long window facing the sea
is about to say that dusk is coming.
Suddenly it changes color.
Say that the night is coming.
Say that the sky net in the grey sky is full of everything.
It is fine.
this virtuous desk and chair is as close as a friend;
The paper fragrance of this ancient book comes in waves;
A good teacup is as white as a virgin;
The nursed child gulped in his mother's arms,
Snoring reported the news that my eldest son was healthy ...
This mysterious quiet night, this round peace,
My throat trembled with a song of thanks.
But the song immediately turned into a curse,
Silent night! I can't, I can't take your bribe.
who wants peace inside your wall?
my world has a wider border.
Since these four walls are separated from the constant noise of war,
What can you do to stop my heartbeat?
It's best to fill this mouth with sand and mud.
Others will only sing about personal sorrow!
It's best to let this head dig holes for voles, and
let this mass of flesh and blood feed the corpse worms;
If it's just for a glass of wine and a poem,
the pendulum swings in a quiet night,
you can't hear the moans of your neighbors,
you can't see the trembling figures of widows and orphans,
the cramps in the trenches, crazy people biting their sickbeds,
and all kinds of tragedies under the mill of life.
happiness! I can't accept your personal bribe now.
My world is not within this square wall.
listen! There was another burst of gunfire, and death roared.
quiet night! How can you stop my heartbeat?