Shu Ting
That night
I seemed to be only eight years old
I didn't know what my willfulness
required
You pushed aside the wet bushes
led me to the beach
Where the gentle wind
stroked the fringe of the moon
The tide rhythmically < Star
Suddenly you turn around
and ask me in an unsteady voice
What's wrong with the sea
I can't see anything. Look
We have come to the edge
Then restore
all your pride and dignity
and return to the cold base
to the times and history
with all of you. Let the seagull and Guifan
your unwritten poem
beautify
the harbor of every heart
198.2
--------------.
Sail to the unattainable level
Dark clouds are like ringworm
The face of the sky
The flock of gulls
Spread white wings for her
Go
My little sun
If you sink
Sleep on the chest of the sea
On the silver tent of jellyfish
There will always be green.
August, 198
------------in the north. It shook every poplar
and made a tidal noise
Let's go too
to compete for the sky
or be a small leaf
to respond to the singing of the forest
II
I'm not afraid to look weak in front of you
Let the high-speed traffic jam
crush the majesty of the city
The world is on your shoulder. My thin shadow
stands with you
Three
When you are just you
I am just me
We argue
We make up
A pair of eccentric friends
When you are no longer you
I am no longer me
There is no melting point between our arms
. Foot sound
If you don't need to explain
If you don't need to fortify
Road posts, horizontal lines and traffic sticks
If you don't meet
If you meet, you can forget
Silence, shadow and long
Five
I feel that this moment
is slowly disappearing
becoming a thing of the past
.
under the street lamp, I only silently turned my back to
six
the night closed behind you
you walked to the night sky
and became an unsolved mystery
a cold teardrop
hung on the face of eternity
hid in my remaining dream
1979.12
-. ---------------
Early spring
Friends, it's spring
Dispel the sadness. Wipe away your tears
Smile at the sun
Although there is no flood of flowers
The shackles of winter are washed away
The fragrance of tincture is running down
Flooding the plains,
Although there are no birds' song waterfalls
splashing thousands of silver beads
scattered in the misty dawn
rolling on the avenue at dusk
, just wait
Once it thunders
the dark clouds will flee
It is the most beautiful and best dream
Maybe it will come brilliantly overnight
. The wind is still howling
in the trembling valley
as if they were wailing together
but there are already a few small cuckoos
like an eternal flame
that keep the world warm
even the clouds are no longer floating
friends, Let's say that
spring is beautiful, Rich
because it passed the last steep
1975.2
-------------. Few poets are tender in thinking about
how many songs are sung on the cliffs
and how many lines of footprints left on the beach
how many times sails raised to the horizon
are secretly buried
cursed
and praised by Haitao. There has been glory
the sea-changing life
life-turbulent ocean
Where is the cave dug in childhood
Where is the trace of first love
Ah, the sea
Even if your waves
can smooth your memory
There are still some shells
scattered on the hillside
like summer. Life
Although you have ruined
countless pure dreams
there are also some brave people
as calm as a flying petrel in a storm
as calm as a coastal night in the evening
The rocks in Leng Ye are as severe as death
From the coastal rocks
How lonely my shadow is
From dusk to midnight
. Everything in the past
Everything in the past-
This world
has the pain of sinking
and the joy of awakening
1973.2
---------. Dear old poet
Please show me the unfinished road
Let me start from your destination
Please give me the song that you just wrote
I want to sow sparks along the way
You have gradually buried the broken dream
the broken heart
and the damaged years
But your voice is enriched by freedom. The
buried in the mud is not a skeleton in chains
just like the poor mother earth, from which
countless humiliations and murders
have to grow a big tree
a towering road sign
spread its branches in the direction you desire
in the distance you pursue
Why did you sacrifice? Where did you fall?
The times are too weak to answer
History hides its face and won't answer for the time being
But in the future, People will
pick up your flag with a broken wing
and a bloody trumpet from the chest of the motherland when sweeping the battlefield ...
Poetry is immortal because of your noble life
Life is great because of your immortal poems
November, 1976
------------. -----------------
Dreaming
With a lily that I am familiar with
(the petals fall on the windowsill)
-I am confused
With the breath that seems to blow on my ear
(my face is deeply buried in my hand)
-I hold my breath. I can finally cry again
with neglected details
with a re-understood revelation
it's back, My enthusiasm
-with a fragment of the poem
September 1, 1977
My heart
is covered with dark and heavy clouds
There are cold winds blowing in my heart
Salt-saturated molten slurry is deposited in my heart
There are snow-covered peaks in my heart
Let me tell you that this is my heart
. You cruelly tease
you want to crush it with the heel of the spiked shoe palm
watch it deform due to painful convulsions
but it is still a heart
and it is pounding in my chest
I am determined to accept your challenge
But before I ask
I wonder if you have a heart
Yes, I hope you will cherish
1982
---------------. Yellow rice
wrote colorful poems
but before I finished harvesting the crops
my manuscript was desolate everywhere
only after the violent snowstorm
several lines of footprints were left on the white paper
1983
------------------. ---------
My little room
My little room
It's messy and warm
She's right next to the hall
In the dark brown closet
Old clothes are hung full
The drawer of the dark red desk is locked with romance
. With a few words written on his face, he said
Friends often meet here
Get together to discuss and argue
Light a cigarette and get drunk
Talk about poetry, art, yesterday, Tomorrow
this is my small room
messy and so warm
the door is open for you
my young partner
--------------------. Panic
always scares my soul
There are still flowers of hope in my heart
Boredom is like a snake wrapped around branches and vines
My mind can't get rid of it
Who can I call for help
I only have cheap joy during the day
Cheap joy is always a symbol of depression
I have to open my heart
Let you see me.
October 2, 1987
-----------. The veins on the face are full like veins
There is no golden glory
It is just a Zhang Qing gray face
It used to be so full and bright
Dark green leaves sparkled with hope
There was a fierce debate in the storm
The cover was comfortable and cool in the hot sun
Now it is driven by the cold current of fate
It is curled up like an old busker
. The dead leaves that people understand
are actually lost in my heart
--------------------. And people still trample on me at will
which makes me suffer such humiliation and torture
"You see, everything grows on me,
as for me, "the earth said," I'm getting poorer and hungrier.
It seems that you know something about happiness after all.
Otherwise, why are your words so sharp?
The fallen leaves don't say anything.
But I understand a lot
1985-1986
----. --------------
Fish Trilogy
A
Under the cold ice, the fish went with the water,
There was no painful sigh from the fish,
Since there was no warm sunshine,
How could we greet them? !
There are no waves in reality.
How can we fight with blood?
The future is so unpredictable,
How can you trust your hopes?
The only comfort for fish,
is to indulge in sweet memories.
Let the tears of pain and joy
hold up the faint past again.
It is neither a calyx pursued in the spring tide nor a peaceful rest in the hot sun;
It's neither the chilly wind in early spring nor the ripples of green water in midsummer.
but when