Poetry 1: Qingming Festival
This is an ancient festival
Holier than any other festival
Look, it’s raining again
It’s still the same season, it’s still the same sky
But it’s no longer the rain
The longing continues and the weeping spreads...
The rain falls gently
It forms a curtain of water on the brow
The continuous spring rain
I wonder if I can remember the distant shepherd boy
Continuous spring rain
I don’t know how many lights have gone on and off
Continuous spring rain
I don’t know how many Qingming Festivals have passed by Xiaoxiao
Continuous spring rain
p>I don’t know how long I have been wet but the pain has not healed
I have never stopped missing them.
I think they just went to live in a foreign land
I guess that foreign land must be the Paradise
Those who went there never came back
That black funeral
It was the farewell to them
The old days fell to pieces
I stuck together piece by piece
I know that time cannot be copied
But I cannot lock the memories of the past
The scent of incense candles
Burning with sincere longing
The flames of mourning
Repairing the stranded past
A string of distant sobs
The low cry that breaks into the continuous rain
< p> Incense candles curling upSwaying resentment, turmoil from the past
A melancholy heart
With
The one hiding in the rain Sadness
Trembling in the slightly cold wind
Incense candles curling
Like our sorrow
Gradually burning into ashes
Icy and cold in the body
Desolate and desolate in the heart
It is so wet that it makes us worried
Sitting in April
Waiting Countless tears come to drown myself
Fold the body again and again
Look at those black butterflies, floating up and down
The continuous rain is also divided into droplets A drop of tears
Don’t cry again, don’t cry anymore
Their eyes
must be in the mist-like rain
We take care of you
Don’t let it go, don’t let it go
Choking with sobs
Disturbing their lives in a foreign land
Poetry 2 ：Qingming Festival
Light and drunk in this helpless world
Light a candle of fragrance
Worship the silence of a lifetime
In the blink of an eye
The memories are opened and overwhelming
The distinct annual rings
Response to the ruthless bells
The clear tearful eyes, the clear Soul
In the Qingming Festival, silence and peace of mind
Poetry 3: Qingming Festival
I traveled around the corners of the city
But I still can’t see you
Do you know
I have been looking for you
But you only left me a faint memory
The rain blurs my vision
Destiny brings you into another world
On the lonely road
I will often think of you
Another year of Qingming Festival
I send my most sincere blessings to you in heaven
Poetry 4: To Qingming Festival
Rising in the distance Wisps of smoke are rising
The distance between the world and heaven has shortened today
Whose yearning heart is full of poetry and painting
This year there is no rain but only tears
Everyone who comes and goes has a pious heart
Who can I tell my heart to?
An unbalanced heart wants to whisper
How many people can see things and think about people?
Walking out of that kind of spiritual space
They all have that resentful look in their eyes
Every now and then it is misty and misty.
I hope that the soul will not cut off the time and space of the past
Ancestors and relatives need to be calm and calm when facing the world of yin and yang
They can only recall and follow with their hearts
The sunshine outside the window is particularly charming
Sooner or later the heart of escape must be revisited
The dancing figure stretches so long
Holding in hand The chrysanthemums parted ways in an instant
The sky became a little gloomy
Whose tears turned into candlelight
In the season of spring
p>
There is no laughter or singing today