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Autumn days
I follow the generosity of poplar trees.
Go to the northwest of my dream
Back to the frog skin drum
A fragile childhood.
Unscrew the lost childlike innocence
Pour out a string of homesick poems
Into my sweet dream
A spring is like a string.
Go back to that dream.
Go back to the spring-like enthusiasm and sunshine.
The withered leaves are still spinning.
Also downstream.
The grass is too old to climb the tree.
Cicada is finally dumb.
I really can't remember what season it is.
Autumn in my hometown in my memory
How did you gently solidify the loneliness on both sides of the strait?
Yellow roses are in full bloom on the shore.
And wild lilies.
That life has been warmed up.
That's my pastoral for many years.
Jade is clean and ice is clear outside the bamboo fence.
There are countless grasses, green birds and sheep, antelopes and deer in the garden.
You can chew the details of spring here.
Every day, I can bet on endless spring scenery.
Unfortunately, everything can only be in a dream.
Memories are sweet and painful.
Autumn is full of sadness.
However, it is also infinitely clear and poetic.
Everything is just the poet's frivolity.
He is safe and auspicious.
His pen is extremely impulsive.
No matter spring, summer, autumn and winter
He put his ideas on
Unknown life
Winter night tune
Dusk in winter is always torn off.
Shanshan always comes late at dawn.
Flowers and streams have become vicissitudes by the wind.
A round that can never be changed.
A clean and flawless moon.
Be carried away by the tide
Looking at the stars, the night birds in the reeds also felt the thin chill.
Pickled poems, love poems
Mixed with a handful of salt of missing.
Pickled out the fragrance of poetic rhyme
In the exciting voice of love
I heard a cry like kimchi.
Elephants are bleached and dyed in vats.
Long-term pickling
Poems of love
Salty and sour has long been a foregone conclusion.
In your ignorant heart
I can't smell any sour taste.
Only that poem is so salty.
I hid that poem in a salt dream.
After many years, the cellar will be raised.
I will smell salty incense.
Lure my appetite for poetry
Pick it up with chopsticks
Put it in your mouth.
It tastes delicious when chewed.
Just to my taste.
Hidden in my poetic dream
Wine can refresh the mind.
The same is true of poetry.
Such as brewing in wine.
Many years later, Dionysus also became a poet.
Like Li Bai's "Hundred Wars Wine Order"
Write acacia in poetry
Brewing and salting
Immerse yourself in a dream
The most beautiful poem
An altar of wine flies out of the rhythm of poetry
But I really want to get drunk
I will pickle you like pickles.
Be my poetic god
Hidden in my poetic dream
Love poems of fallen leaves
to be short
An unchangeable fate
Destined that day.
The taste of falling hurts in my heart.
Lying on the cold ground
I can only cry.
What's the use of crying?
The golden joy of autumn
Who cares about withered tears?
remote
A distance of several meters
Two different worlds.
A day of solitude
Never come back.
Memories and memories
A clear sky with birds and flowers.
It's already yesterday.
Tree, my love
I know you're sad, too
Cold wind, lonely and thin figure
But I don't want to see you decadent.
Your heroic spirit in the wind and rain
This is my pride.
to be short
What I hope
Because I can't be with you anymore.
Then use my body, my love.
Nourish you
spring
The starting point of the next life cycle
I have to find you.
Come back to you.
Waiting for love poems
I used to like other people,
Are you liked by others now,
After all, people are bound to get hurt,
In the pursuit of love,
It's doomed to be painful before you know it,
No one is right or wrong in love,
Only like it or not,
There is no eternity or life,
Only a brief tenderness,
Without holding your hand and vowing to grow old with your son,
It's just that things have changed,
There is no mountain without edges and corners, and the sum of heaven and earth is an eternal commitment to break with the monarch.
Only turning around is a stranger's lie and deception,
In our life,
Many people are just strangers who pass us by.
A passerby who turns around and never sees you again,
But it is undeniable that,
Somewhere in this world,
There must be someone who belongs to us in the vast sea of people, waiting for us to find and hold hands.
In the process of searching,
Maybe there will be many people looking for him, and suddenly looking back, that person is in the dim light.
Maybe there will be a turning point, and it will be missed forever.
But we can't linger on the edge of letting go and persisting.
Always have the courage to find true love to the ends of the earth.
At the end of the love journey,
Maybe you're really rewarding,
Maybe you really have nothing,
But you really went after it,
You can still smile and say to the sky,
I believe that true love will always exist!