June, June, the scorching sun.
In June, cicadas know cicadas.
In June, get a pen and answer the test paper carefully.
In June, we will be separated.
Fairy tale castle
The fading June
Finger flick
Has disappeared in a dreamy and beautiful paradise.
In June, we packed our bags on our backs.
In June, we left our alma mater.
In June, we rushed to the distance.
Those mature smiling faces are a little naive.
Those little sober years.
at once
Has disappeared in the hazy memory of the morning light.
In June, I sailed alone.
June, inside and outside the threshold.
June, so quietly disappeared.
In June, friends in the street take care.
In June, it suddenly disappeared into the traffic of the future world.
February and June will be the end of June, the whole June.
I didn't finish one thing.
Father is lying in bed.
It gets smaller every day.
The time left for him in the world
Not much.
How much do I have left
I go to see him three times a day.
Look, five steps is nothing more than ten steps.
The window facing south is open every day.
Wooden plaid is his early work.
He woke up from a coma last night.
I suddenly confessed to my mother: when I left,
Take my carpenter's axe.
June is almost over, and the corn in the field is gone.
How tall is a person?
Empty mountains are full of cicadas.
Only newcomers appease those who are about to leave.
Only time has taken over human practice.
This is a poem from March to June. I wrote it to you in the third year.
Wake up and listen to the sunshine and distant mountains outside.
Insects are singing and disappearing. Cuckoo flies
Wake up service
Who is that
The prayer of water and the piety of waterfowl playing in the water
I came in quietly.
That moment
In the sleeping village, let's go.
People still live on the edge of dreams and awakening.
The cow and the old dog are still there.
The breeze on the summit is still there.
Those villages and wheat fields are still there.
You and I stood up.
On a foggy morning
I go out on all foggy mornings in my memory.
The starlight is weak and the cordyceps is mixed.
to cross a boundary
What about the ferry
Wake up in the village, understand?
It is always rice that surges, wave after wave.
Lush is always dew, drop by drop.
The bushes along the road are full of cicadas.
The sun in June
In summer, the sky is high and the clouds are far away
What is fresh is always morning, day after day.
Soaked is always a dream, one by one.
People who come in are always thinking
Then, I heard the sound of flowers beside me.
So I saw the forest in the distance.
Can I still sing at this time?
Who is lying at the table with running water?
It's just that the rough style is written for you.
The cicada is still chirping.
The cuckoo has flown away.
So-called piety
The so-called youth
I will tell you silently.
The gardenia in front of the table is still faint and clear.
Not withered
No yellow.
What seems distant but clear?
What will be the end of the world after planting the awn?
Summer again.
Who was burned by his tears and whose heart beat?
Over villages, rivers and distant mountains
I saw a child.
great
listen attentively to
The summer of death is quietly and secretly telling me the truth of happiness.
therefore
After the gardenia blooms, the summer solstice is gradually quiet.
How to speak is always me.
I will sing in the water and among the birds,
At that time, I will write for you,
And I will be surprised at my persistence.
Listen, I wrote this for you.
In the third year, I sat at noon in summer.
The Woods under my feet are rugged in my singing.
Lush green leaves will never be lonely.
Children's April and June
June
It was a memory that did not grow up.
Too much innocence
It's so funny.
Bright red scarf
How much beautiful youth
It's all engraved there
For a high school student,
June
There are too many expectations
Is to fly to heaven
Or go to hell.
After three years of long-term accumulation
June
It is the critical period of phoenix nirvana.
Have an ideal pursuit
Have expectations for love
For us today,
June
Like a dream.
In the dream we are chasing.
Wake up, let's move on.
We are not afraid of temporary setbacks.
Don't be intoxicated by the pride of love.
Just like this June, all the flowers are gone.
There are occasional thunderstorms in hot weather.
The past will pass.
The future belongs to us.
Endless motivation?