Modern Long Poems by Famous Writers 1: Under the Appearance
The empty shell of cicada has abandoned its essence and echoes the wind.
Without exception, green and red and black cut the earth.
Black and blue
The cultivated land extends all the way to the top of the mountain.
Think of people's situation as straw.
Low head eats grass like a cow.
Walking in a row of crescent mud
A terrible flood came.
Go downhill with a downhill hat on your back.
Cooking smoke makes peace.
An old man's tired face was painted in candlelight.
The truth is in the virtual shadow.
The roots of bean sprouts must be wrapped around the stick.
The rice is soaked in wooden barrels.
There is not much rain, snow and mountain wind left.
Blowing yellow leaves and bending bamboo branches.
Evening arrival is halfway up the mountain.
Qingshi xiaosui road
Mountain sunrise, a bunch of morning dew at two o'clock, exhaling cold.
Whether you come back or not.
I'm not saying that wheatgrass doesn't envy dogs barking on summer nights.
I didn't come back until I visited the mountain temple and the forest dream.
It's invalid anyway. Why don't you get angry
Pack up your wings and fly angrily north.
Modern Long Poems by Famous Writers Part II: Begonia
No matter what kind of tea it is, it is quiet.
The red ytterbium shines on the branches.
Said we couldn't hear. It was blown by the wind.
Three days and three nights are long, and they are whispering.
I can see clearly, one tree and one ya.
The bone flap opened its mouth and pistil.
Hatching insects, in which
Walking around in circles, chatting gossip.
Who loves to look at it like a madman?
Judging from the way it blooms, this flower
No flicker, just a shrug.
Idle overflow, smiling.
I don't have to look, and neither does she.
My little sister and my brother are smiling and frowning.
Because of the beauty of this flower, its fragrance
That tree is full of red flowers.
Modern Long Poems by Famous Writers Part III: Shocking My Melancholy Heart
It's not the language that an axe can cut off branches.
Not the words of an axe can inspire a living tree.
The language of the violent man cannot hide the language of the axe.
It is not the decoration of a violent person that can hide the thought of an axe.
Branches with their arms cut off, holding green branches in their hands.
Speak in the air and complain in the air.
It's the eyes, not the mouth.
Witnessed the great inspiration of the axe
Witnessed the great danger of the axe
The spirituality of an axe is like splitting life in the soul.
Scattered debris fell into the cool autumn lake like stars.
Walking by the lake in cool autumn, I heard about the heritage.
Pearls ooze by evaporation.
Flash from the danger of weeds and black axes.
Shocked my melancholy heart.