Ask for a poem about bronze

I only found these articles, and I'll see if I can help you. Bronze ware (or: Sanxingdui) Category: Modern Poet Author: Bai Ma Nian Editor's Note: The writing style is calm, the pen is heavy, the poetry is long, and the meaning is heavy. Drunk for five thousand years in Sanxingdui Bronze Wine Jue. Fill every sacrificial pit with old love, light a fire and burn shrubs and caves. By the duck river, bronze grows in the river, and the ancient hometown is far from the hometown of the Central Plains, where osprey is raised. Until the two rulers in this area held the golden wheel of the sun to meet the short life of the only god who walked through the sun in his veins. The sun is hidden above his head. The ears and eyes of the sun god are covered with bronze sacred trees. At night, they use copper rods to shine through the sacrificial body and burn with the edge of the flame. -Wang Fuzhang lit a bonfire next to the Mayflower Column, and the brothers and enemies joined hands and danced together on a windy and dark night. Family and hatred shook hands and shattered the ancient starlight. Crawling dragons and copper are faintly visible in the morning light. The golden staff of the sun, the heaven is far away, and the road to Shu is difficult. In the cold sun of shallow water, the bronze in the early morning packed up the rammed wall of Qi Li and set foot on the cold waterway. Bronze with tears, bronze with golden scepter green, holy tree extinguished. By the river, bronze put out the eyes of the sun god one by one, and the pupils of the sunset were covered with verdigris. In a drop of water, the baby cried. Note: Sanxingdui was built in 5000. At that time, it did not belong to Shang Dynasty. After that, Qin destroyed the six countries and led the army into Sichuan to destroy Shu. This civilization was formally incorporated into the Central Plains civilization. This poem is about the glory and rebirth of this period of history. It may be a little difficult to understand without comments. ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆973 I can't see the sadness of bamboo tears. I looked at the window grilles on the wall and felt great. They are like my hopes. Some people sing, some dance, some cheer, some despair. When the smoke between your fingers burns out, a man's eyes will look. Women's faces are deeply engraved on bronzes. Some people are born, some people die, some people suffer, and some people revel. You can find a sexual partner if you like. If you want bronzes to tell you music, there are not many rings at the age of 20. The city is full of surviving boys begging in the street. The old women who look around miss or expect the light of God. The phoenix that died on New Year's Eve, you are nirvana, you are nirvana, there is a saying. A man died with a kind of pain on the bronze ware of the ancient temple. The old monk who sent me to sleep at night, orange candlelight, red candlelight, black candlelight, you live and die. The turbulent flow of people in the city devoured youth, dreams and eternity. At this time, the darkness of death gradually receded like the tide. At this time, men and women in the street embraced warmly. At this time, God bless the smooth passage of food through the people. I boarded the beacon tower, and my sad soul beat the bronze bell that had been silent for thousands of years. Sirius 1748 No matter what proportion of copper, tin and lead are matched, history can never be forged without blood, and an ideal bronze color will rust on your skin. The legend that my father doesn't complain or cry, I always thought it was just a habit, echoing in the general's account, singing Ji in the field of life and death, jingling on the city stage, singing Ji in the museum and meditating. I got up from you and gave up your idea of kisses and hugs. After drinking helmet wine, bronze chariots and horses smashed the romantic moon, and the sun rose like a full moon. Your light shines on my chest. Behind me is the hometown of bronze. Loneliness and desolation always pile up on the edge of dust on the way to departure and return. The rusted sound was buried by the chime, and then the bronze bell became excited. The soul in the bronze mirror is endless, and there is always a condensation and revival of ancient rhyme. From today's countless chamfers, a road of regeneration has been opened up. It is always a horseshoe, losing its voice in the drums and being deaf in vilen. One by one, seal script is always engraved on it. The sigh engraved on it and the endless paragraphs cast on it are the exhausted surnames of ancestors, but the vast desert behind the surnames is as boundless as grasslands. This is an oblate sunset. The muddy red bronze sword and bronze tripod cover the breath. There are still countless flags shaking, and there are still ups and downs of the city-states that have cracked and reunited. The first fire burned the sky, and the smoke of the Shang Dynasty caused the pain of the Zhou Dynasty. The city wall collapsed, the bronze ware collapsed, and the city wall collapsed. A gene that connects blood vessels? Invisible clouds propped up the injury without texture? This is an era of conquest, which is gone forever. Bronzes are always changing, storms are always changing, and the dead are so high. In a long time, young lakes will always be wet, old surnames will always be covered with bows and arrows, and the spirit of bronze will always be presented after today.