Native Poetry - Farm Tools (Poetry)

Text/Wang Deqiang

Farm tools

After my father got old

Farm tools Leisure with my father

Leisure farm tools with my dad

Silently recalling farm work

I failed to take over the farm tools

Sowing in spring and harvesting in autumn like my father

Ever since I left the country and lived in the city

I have been alienated from farm tools

Return in one day Arrive at my hometown

I accidentally touched the farm tools and made a noise

This familiar iron sound

seemed to remind me intentionally——

Don’t forget the hard work of your fathers

They used farm tools to tend the crops

The crops will feed you when you grow up

Watch the sunset< /p>

Facing the west window in the afternoon

Looking at the setting sun

The setting sun has set a little bit

My mood became dejected

The moment the sun set over the Western Mountain

The world suddenly fell into a vast expanse

My mood also reached the bottom

p>

This feeling and this scene is like watching

Another villager is buried

What are the old things in the old house

Stone mill, shovel, hoe, sickle

Back cage, shoulder pole, jar, wooden barrel,...

Farm tools and household utensils that were commonly used in old houses< /p>

Some are rusty, some are worn out and damaged

Some are scattered into pieces, and some are missing

Those stone tools Wood, iron, and porcelain

With the death of my father and my mother's old age

have been lying idle in the corners of the old house

covered with dust

Every time I see or think about the old things in the old house

I always feel a faint sense of guilt in my heart

Over the years, I have often learned from my deep memory

Pick up the old things in the old house one by one

Repair, restore and wipe them carefully

Put them back to their original places

< /p>

Old house and grave

At the foot of the mountain on the right side of the old house

Grandpa and grandma are buried side by side

Not far up there are Mother-in-law and cousin

Buried further up are my second uncle and cousin-in-law

On the left side of the old house are buried nearby folks

Behind the old house My father is buried in the mountain

On the hillside in front of the old house

Several older cemeteries

One after another Old grave, new grave

The old house is wrapped in the grave

Falling into deeper and deeper desolation

Day by day haggard

It’s like returning to my hometown in the past

Seeing my father covered in dust

I patted him with a towel

He just settled Standing on the ground

Not saying a word

Caomin

No matter whether the weather is cloudy or sunny

My father always goes out. Wearing a straw hat

Wearing a raincoat when walking uphill and downhill on rainy days

Wearing straw sandals every day in the sky

From head to toe, we never leave the grass

My father was a grassroots man

How could he leave the grassland?

After his death, he was buried on the hillside

He lived with grass all year round As a companion

But my father

I am not careless in my life

I am not careless in my work

< p>

A sentence that has been brewing for a long time

——Written to my wife

From meeting each other to knowing each other

From lovers to lovers to married couples

A sentence that has been brewing for thirty years

I have never said it to you

p>

A short three-word sentence

I have made you wait for a long, long time

The green hair turned into white hair

Some words become vernacular as soon as they are spoken

So I don’t want to say them easily now

It will have to wait until we are very, very old

We need to support each other when we grow old. Time

When we are so old that our speech slows down

I will say it to you word by word again

Say it to you really< /p>

This sentence has been brewing for a long time

Of course, this sentence

must be said before I or you die

p>