1974 jumped the queue in Changping county, Beijing after graduating from high school, and then began to write poems, becoming one of the main authors of Today magazine.
1983, famous for its long poem Nuorilang. 1988 was selected as one of the "Top Ten Poets" by Chinese mainland readers. In the same year, he founded the "Survivor Poetry Society" with Munk and Duoduo in Beijing.
Main work
* Ritual Soul (1985)
* Wild Soul (1986)
* yellow (1989)
The end of the sea (1998)
Banpo group poems
myth
Sunset of ancestors
An angry voice broke the evergreen green.
Heaven and earth suddenly turned over.
Crows are like a pool of black water lilies.
Screaming through every dusk.
Scattered bamboo slips, a small fragment of history.
From another world, Stone.
Climbed the steep cliff and regained his face.
Sunset of ancestors
Into my arms.
Like this sharp-bottomed bottle filled with the spring of life.
A colorful heart praying for the sky.
The vast sand plain is approaching me from the horizon.
Leave the stone and return it.
I am a living sculpture.
Oh, the reddish-brown light shines on the same loess.
There, the ups and downs of my childhood cabin
Pine trees and bronze statues stand quietly in the ravine.
Beautiful animals give people warm patterns.
The days when bone beads are strung together
My earth-skinned child
When the dream is white, it is full of water that irrigates everything.
The first monosyllabic word, mumbling, was born.
I swam all over the beach during the day, a snake tail.
When a flapping bird becomes a dragon.
I walked hand in hand to the valley of the night.
Explore silent murals and become an eagle.
I'm not a girl anymore. I've been kneeling here for thousands of years-
And warriors who chase the sun to nowhere to hide
Powerful numbers were broken by stormy desires.
Birds tremble in the lonely sea.
Destined to fill your shallow soul.
The ninth scorching sun struggled to die.
Bowstring and pain sounded in vain.
A woman can only run to the moon coldly.
Living in another light
In retrospect, meditation has become a thing of the past.
A sower of infinite years.
Only this evening can touch your dark eternity.
Tell me: What does a golden complexion really mean?
Fruitful life is swaying on the ivy.
What did my soul get?
Six dragons fell at their feet and embraced an abyss.
This stone has original strong and leisurely handwriting.
The oldest race extends to the plateau.
Uncut beauty after collapse and abandonment.
Read the wind and cross the air.
I died a thousand times and was reborn as a god.
Look, the morning is intertwined with the green fields.
Every day's uncertainty is like a pile of ashes.
On the other side of the earth, the bonfire of the sun's hope.
Burn the first person to sow wheat.
The first person to shake the ocean with blood.
Fixed on the edge, always the first time-
Statue of mother.
Overlooking this silent country.
Standing on a pedestal as high as a cliff
Bottle with pointed bottom arm
It is always empty.
I stayed in the middle of evergreen years.
My eyes never leave the sunset of my ancestors who sank into the waves.
Once again, I dreamed that blue rose slowly from my hand.
Poetry of man and fire
dormant volcano
Experienced the deepest night and endured the cruelest light.
It remembers that the bird's song burned into the last wound.
The root of the tree slowly plunged into its heart, and it learned to be cruel to itself.
A thousand mouths used to be a thousand mouths.
Blood, shouting and begging, sank into the silence of precipitation.
Those bright red wings were cut off by time.
Rot into black soil and float into the clouds.
At dusk, another sunflower ripens on the horizon.
Over the mountains, as big as an eagle.
A thousand mouths are a thousand eyes.
It stared at the gravel under its feet.
Windy, nesting in basalt caves.
There is water, which treasures the waves thousands of years ago.
The sun shone violently on the moss-covered cliff.
The whole blue sky is shrouded in dreams.
Take it as a ruler to measure silence and light.
It wakes up in a deep sleep and is cruel to itself.
White smoke spread on the top of the mountain.
Pine needles grow upward, and green lightning destroys winter.
Is its lightest breath.
Long wait: growling, inevitable
Trembling fear and beauty are above all else, making the earth revel.
Just like a deer licking salt and alkali.
Endure secretly burning your own flame.
One heart, a thousand wishes to fly.
the underground forest
Larch, which can't escape, has long been used to the premonition of danger.
Cliffs towering around, the darkness at noon.
Along the path, the storm ten thousand years ago.
Still against the tide on the green moss
Lily of the valley dances like no one's watching.
Drive into the fierce rock waterfall
A flock of big birds.
Fold powerful black feathers
A round and deep valley
Thousands of tons of needle-like silence
Listen to the blood-red clock under the root of the tree
Watch: Hot and humid fire flowing through blood vessels.
Incense that keeps bees busy.
Fire turned into raindrops, streams, berries and squirrels.
Where is that grumpy heart beating?
How did the burning hand reach out to life?
Grab a green island.
Awaken ancient beliefs from every dawn.
The sky, shrinking into a circle of blue dazzling aura on the head.
Even if you die in one fire or another.
A fire that splits pine cones, a fire carved with red stones.
Ten thousand years later, there will still be this forest. Be quiet.
Lower than the earth
The small hearts of countless pine nuts snuggle up to the spring water.
Higher than the sky
It grows in the sun and extracts gold.
Basalt platform
That's it: boulders roar and all animals burn.
The back is carved by the hand of the sun, and the earth is hung with relief.
Into a darker and quieter moment than dusk.
Blood-red nests subvert and seize the world.
Like catching a bird. Stagnant flood.
Everything is slowly approaching a pair of glowing eyes.
Below me: river bed and wind, sleepless fish and thorns.
Shouts cannot penetrate the eternal twilight sky.
Dreams can't penetrate the most pictographic stone.
It is colder and heavier than at night.
Worse than death, this garden is full of porous black roses.
This pine forest suddenly learned to be as silent as greatness.
As far as the horizon, swaying due to weathering.
Stone's heart twitched under the dive of the stone eagle.
I won't forget my name all spring.
On the inscription, passionate love has a rough shape.
Shrubs are as hard as buried bones.
The river blocked the Lake of Birth, and the lake was full of seagulls with sparkling flowers.
From the shadow of memory to my end, the sky is blue.
The earth spreads its wings and flies quietly for thousands of years.
A lizard ignores time and space and dances to the sun.
The most painful pride comes from fire.
My burning chest stretches among countless stars.
The grass is red, and the smell of rocks
Never-ending: the most silent sea, the invisible pulse
In this way, I rushed into fate, for a moment.
The high-hanging scenery broke into history at dusk.
The sky is like a page that has been filled and wiped repeatedly.
Quiet and clean
A rescue force passed through the fire.
Open the heart of this washing world again-
Stones, darker in color.
Thousands of wild animals burned to death are still alive.