Selected Modern Classical Poetry: Dai Wangshu in Rain Lane
Holding an oil-paper umbrella alone
Wandering in the long, long
Lonely rain lane
I hope to see
Like cloves.
A girl with a grudge.
She does.
Clove-like color
Lilac fragrance
Lilac sadness
Mourn in the rain
Sad and confused
She lingers in this lonely rain lane
Hold an oil-paper umbrella
Like me
Like me.
Walk quietly
Cold desert, melancholy, and melancholy.
She approached quietly.
Get close and throw again.
Breathing eyes
She floated by.
well
As sad and confused as a dream.
Floating like a dream
Dingxiangyuan
I missed this girl.
She walked away silently, walked away.
A ramshackle hedge.
Walk through this rainy path
In the sad song of rain
Remove her color.
Scattered her fragrance.
Disappeared, even hers
Breathing eyes
Lavender melancholy
Holding an oil-paper umbrella alone
Wandering in the long, long
Lonely rain lane
I hope to float over.
Like cloves.
A girl with a grudge.
Selected Works of Xi Murong's Modern Poetry II: A Flowering Tree
How to let you meet me
In my most beautiful moment
for this reason
I prayed in front of the Buddha for 500 years.
Pray for Buddha to let us have a dusty relationship.
Buddha made me a tree.
Follow the path you may take.
Under?the?sun
Carefully full of flowers.
Every flower carries my previous hopes.
When you get close,
Listen carefully
Trembling leaves
This is the passion I am waiting for.
When you walked under the tree, you didn't notice me.
On the ground behind you
My friend,
Not falling petals
It is my withered heart
Selected Works of Modern Classical Poetry III: Wen Yiduo of Dead Water
This is a backwater of despair,
The breeze doesn't move at all.
Why don't you have some rubbish,
Throw out your leftovers.
Maybe copper will turn green into jade,
Several petals of peach blossoms were embroidered on the tin can.
Let greasy weave a layer of Luo Qi,
Shape a steaming cloud for him.
Let the stagnant water ferment into a ditch of green wine,
Full of pearl foam;
Little beads' laughter turned into big beads,
I was bitten by a flower mosquito who stole wine again.
A desperate backwater ditch,
A little clear.
If frogs can't stand loneliness,
Dead water again. It is singing.
This is a backwater of despair,
This is definitely not the beauty,
Why don't we leave it to ugliness to cultivate,
Look at the world he created.
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