(1) Three In the snow
It snowed in March.
My mother died in the dust
It's not just the winter sunshine that disappears in the sky.
And flying pigeons.
The strings are broken.
I fell on the top of the mountain in the depths of Yuntao and cried.
March is the season when flowers bloom.
And my harvest is really the withering of flowers all over the world.
On the snowy road
Dance with dead leaves
I sat on the ground.
Look up at the gates of heaven every night.
And the river that can't swim.
The stars have long since disappeared.
There is no touch of the moon on the ditch.
I debug with my own tears.
Playing a prime minister's song on a snowy night.
(2) Unrequited love
look at you
Sprinkle light green in my lonely autumn
Grow into crazy spring grass
(3) My youth
The dark sky in winter
No beautiful birds fly by.
a pool of stagnant water—stagnant/lifeless condition
No fish swims happily
I flew into the sky.
Overlooking the flowers projected on the running water
I found that it had turned yellow in the wind of years.
Childhood is a complete mirror.
Youth is a mottled leaf.
Who is full of worried mountains and valleys?
Who sleeps in the dream of white clouds?
The cuckoo sings every night in spring.
But the passion that has passed away?
(4) Bright March
Bright March
Many flowers and shadows
The wind shakes the green leaves
I opened the window.
The sun came in.
Drive away the shadows.
I hear lonely and broken voices.
The shredded water of youth taken away by birds
Isn't it my sadness that shines?
Forget all this.
The wine I once drank.
Once lost mountain road
The snow on the mountain has melted.
In this beautiful March
Let's listen to the whispers of flowers and dreams together.
Youth without emotion
< 1 >
When I look back again,
The one in the back.
Yao Ming waved his hand for a long time.
but
Still nothing.
Only the leaves on those trees in the back.
In the wind
Show off gently
< 2 >
In these quiet days, I always look out of the window silently.
Look at that bare tree. It's a single old man who spends the winter.
My frozen wound is still slowly bleeding.
Lonely branches are bare and scattered in the cold breeze.
The roots are full of confusion.
A few finches are jumping under the eaves, looking here from time to time.
But never far from their warm home.
The sun is always pale in the dignified sky.
A monotonous and silent sigh over and over again
After shaking your face again and again, there is nothing left.
< 3 >
There are still seven or eight stars scattered on the hay that has not fallen for a long time.
A bird lay quietly in the grass, as if it had been dead for a long time.
I walked through this place, but I couldn't find my deep mark.
The clear river is covered with leaves of all sizes.
Many traps were laid leisurely in a wide valley.
Step on the accumulated fallen leaves carefully.
Find the way with a particularly gentle voice.
Sometimes you will find the shell casings left by old hunters in the years.
I suddenly realized that it was originally composed of some beautiful petals.
Steel plate
< 4 >
Is it to pray for the song of the wind again for the yellow land that has been dry for ten thousand years?
Is it for the end of that song to cross your wandering soul again?
Is it for the soul to surpass a banana that was originally far away from the jungle a few years ago?
Is it because of that unique banana that it continues to wander in the empty fantasy world?
Day after day, I was soaked in rain and exhausted by the scorching sun.
Day after day, dusty footprints make the ground fuzzy.
How many times have tears filled the sea and Wang Yang?
The environment is getting worse and worse, and we can't hit a brand-new human being.
The bitterness and saltiness of past lives still surround the dam you stepped on.
< 5 >
Sitting by the river, sitting on the rough black beach.
I'm thinking about that vast wasteland and yellow mud again.
I have been away from home for a long time, and there is nothing left.
The most disgusting silence is easygoing.
Let the footsteps of the years drift the black floating soil into a blank.
The two mouths finally became a muddled dead sea.
After millions of storms, it is still immortal silence.
< 6 >
Laughter came from a distance.
Flip the pages on the table with the wind.
It's like you're approaching through the distant waves.
This is a lotus flower that blooms in the snowfield in winter. . . . . .
youth
Those infinite memories
Slip out of the track of life quietly
Like a gap in the table.
From this year to next year
year after year
Record happiness and sadness
Confirmed the joys and sorrows.
Left traces of our growth.
You can choose these two! ! !