A long June poem with beautiful artistic conception

This is Beijing at 4: 08.

This is 4: 08 Beijing time.

The sea of handspring;

This is 4: 08 Beijing time.

A magnificent whistle sounded.

The tall buildings of Beijing Railway Station,

Suddenly there was a violent shaking.

I looked out of the window in surprise,

I want to know what happened.

My heart suddenly hurts. it must be

Mother's buttoned needle and thread penetrated her heart.

At this time, my heart became a kite.

The kite string is in mother's hand.

The rope is too tight and will break.

I had to stick my head out of the window lattice of the carriage.

Before that, before that,

I realized what had happened.

Wave goodbye,

It is necessary to take the station away;

Beijing is at my feet,

Has moved slowly.

I waved to Beijing again,

Trying to grab him by the collar,

Then shouted to her:

Always remember me, mom, Beijing!

Finally caught something,

No matter whose hand it is, he can't let go,

Because this is my Beijing,

This is my last trip to Beijing.

The second love is Yichun Wen/Jingchuan

Call in the dialect of birds

Run out of the low hut.

A lush summer

In my daughter's eyes

Covered with red dragonflies

It rained lightly last night.

Around the stick

It has attracted the attention of many elves.

Such as early pumpkins.

Wandering in the yard.

Look at my father-in-law's saw.

Thorn, thorn, thorn, thorn, thorn.

Break the long years

The sunset falls in the clouds in the beautiful sea.

Cities are villages.

A village is a city.

Every child of Korean pine here.

Are all with my daughter

It's childhood friends

The stream behind the house is like a comb mirror.

As clear as mercury

Mountain flowers in May

Reflected in the Tangwang River

My lover is like a child.

Put childhood fantasies

Send the kite out of the mountain.

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