The short poem "Comfort" can be regarded as Zheng Xiaoqiong's persistence and sobriety to "self";
I have a bright and stubborn heart, which has its own annoyance.
Repentance, heavy misfortune and fatigue, small resentment, they come across and immerse themselves in the soft parts of my body.
Become a distant thing in my blood and bone.
Rotation creates hope, pain, disease, happiness,
These pictures, lines, utensils, they will say to me
We will fall in love when we meet in life. I am here.
Polishing life on the machine, surging like a flood.
In the future, I will collect love, hate, youth and sadness.
It is being assembled by assembly line, which has become elusive to me.
Past, ideal and future, they are entangled with love and relatives.
Like an old black branch, waiting for the arrival of spring.
My past has sunk into the blue sky, leaving a star-like memory.
It is looming, soothing my lonely and warm heart.