I will accept the young ideas of Marxism-Leninism.
Thoroughly defend those unfair crosses.
For example, a vine planted by my mother when she was young.
One year is one meter longer, and now it has spread all over two-story bungalows.
Seen from a distance, the vines of this grape are thin and strong.
Like an old thinker riding an eternal scepter
I can't bear to watch my mother bend over all the time.
Bend down and grow down day by day.
Close to the ground, into the beloved mud layer.
Then comb it into a A Qing dynasty hairstyle, and it will fall off at the rate of 1000 hairs per minute.
Pain makes people suffocate, make people deaf, and can't hear insects and birds.
History and dusk connected mother's backbone.
Remove it bit by bit, all the way to the liver.
You can't do this. It should be a lazy vine.
In the same year, the pig was sold many times, but it was still fruitless.
Or eat the land under your feet until it is barren and the countryside until it is backward.
Like a dead snake, its hands are as scary as lizards.
Destroy the new grass along the dirt road and the flowers of Pinellia ternata
Even tease the cheeks and hair of those girls.
At night, there are voices knocking on my doors and windows from time to time.
Little by little, madly invade the place where the soul is hidden.
During the day, it sucks all the sunshine into its stomach, and then puts it
24 hours of darkness was crammed into bed for the night.
This can't be done, in the slang of 1 1 month.
I want to conceive tomorrow's blue sky and ordinary land of hope.
Without the protection of vines, the thoughts in the iron house can be released.
Some novel words will also grow new green.
Like life, dim light does not affect the brightness of moonlight.
Just like now, I hear the sound of cheering brother, the black man in the slum.
Prove that this is a world that needs time to polish.
I want to commemorate my mother in a special way.
I want to cut down this barren vine with the sickle of the farmer's uncle.
Cut my mother into a crutch and prolong her life.
I must stay awake after my beautiful desire.
If the pain of all mistakes is not reasonably alleviated,
Then the repetition hidden in suffering will remain silent.
It will go from the other end of the past to this site now.
Whether it is the end or the beginning, these are unsolved mysteries that cannot be explained clearly.
Hell, the first night after death is better.
But if all the criminal laws add up, the death of soul and flesh
It won't be as smoky as it used to be, nor will it happen overnight.
For 5,000 years, China has been keeping silent records.
Now, it seems, or the appearance of adolescent girls.
Occasionally dysmenorrhea, out of a variety of love fluids.
Like the book of songs, like the book of filial piety.
Commonly known as the constant feeling that blood is thicker than water.
Now, the mother who has suffered all her life is old.
She curled up in the fruitless vine shadow in front of the door.
Only farming has no harvest, only autumn leaves have no good news.
Satisfaction is like a bamboo basket, taking a nap outside the door.
I am not used to this kind of life, nor to the connivance of mountains.
While I am young, I will walk out of the dirt road opposite the village.
I want to say goodbye to all the still life in my hometown and pack my bags.
To pursue a book "Birds", in the second rich hometown.
In fertile fields, I will personally plant 1000 fruitful grapes for my mother.
Summer black is early and seedless; Venus is medium mature and seedless; Early honey fragrance and late maturity seedless.
These grapes were my mother's favorite varieties before her death.
Mother loves grapes all her life and never eats bitter and spicy fruit.
I remember my mother saying that the times she lived in were too bitter and spicy.
In this life, I will take over my mother's unfinished sweet dream.
I will personally plant grapes all over the mountain for the mother of the world.