As a wet nurse, I cried and sang.
Pat the child to sleep.
Children don't sleep,
I'm going to bed!
The child is still crying,
I can't cry.
I sang while humming,
Clap gently;
I don't know when,
The child hardly fell asleep,
I just barely fell asleep.
I fell asleep.
Still singing;
Still filming,
In my dream, I saw patting my own child,
He fell asleep on my chest.
? Ah! ? The child woke up again,
I, my dream, woke up.
London, 192 1
At dusk of two small farmers, she cooked under the stove.
Newly cut mountain firewood,
Must be peeled off.
A purplish fire in the kitchen door,
Shining with her purplish face,
Her blue dress glowed red.
He has been smoking a pipe for ten years,
Slowly come back from other places;
A hoe hung in the corner,
Sitting on the rice bed,
Play with relatives' dogs.
He also strolled into the column,
Look at his cow,
Go back and say to her:
"What's the matter ─ ─
Our new wine? 」
On the top of the green hill opposite the door,
The top of the pine tree,
It has been exposed for half a month.
The children looked at the moon in the field.
Stars still in the sky for a few days:
One, two, three, four
Five, eight, six, two
They counted and sang:
"There are many people on the ground,
The stars in the sky have not been bright for months. 」
192 1
Three echoes and one echo.
He looked at the white sheep on the grass.
Eat slowly.
He is in a dark building.
The edge of the forest,
Doing nothing.
The breeze stirred the rain on the tree,
Cold dripped on his head.
He listened to the bell ringing around the sheep's neck.
Sing in a low voice
He was holding a piccolo,
In response to the murmur of running water,
Sob and blow.
He sang and blew,
Think for a long time;
He sighed slightly;
His fiery tears,
Flowing quietly.
two
It should be as sweet as a kiss.
Should there be a kiss as sweet as honey?
what's up
Where is it?
The sea there,
Infinite wave edge,
Vertical, horizontal,
Expand, fold,
Turn over, turn over,
I'm on this wave,
Where is she?
I seem to see her,
Rose's lips,
A body as white as jade,
It's just that my eyes are too dull,
I didn't see the face,
She was immersed in tears of shame,
Bury it silently.
In the dark Woods!
I really can't see through you,
I really see through you!
I don't want you in the wind.
What to say to me;
I am weak, too,
You can't hook the crocodile's cheek,
You can't wear a crocodile's nose,
I can't let it beg me,
Can't let it flatter me;
I'm just asking,
Where is she?
"there?" That's what the echo said
Alas! The water in the stream,
Who are you winking at?
Boring grass, how do you spend it every year?
Make clothes for the grave?
Why don't you go? -Live! ──
Alive -Go ahead! ──
This is an ancient tomb,
Here are the bones of the deceased;
There is a new grave,
This is a dead man who is going to become a bone.
You! -What's wrong with you?
"What's the matter with you?" -the answer is this.
Flowing quietly;
He sighed slightly;
He thought about it leisurely;
He is still blowing, singing:
He still has a piccolo,
In response to the murmur of running water,
Whoops blowing;
He is still listening to the bells around the sheep's neck.
Sing in a low voice
The breeze stirred the rain on the tree,
Cold drops fell on his head;
He is still in this dark building.
The edge of the forest,
Doing nothing.
He is still full of hope,
Watching Aries on the lazy green grass,
Eat slowly.
192 1
The fourth chapter tells me how to avoid her floating clouds.
There is a breeze blowing on the ground.
Ah!
The breeze blows my hair,
Teach me how to miss her.
Moonlight loves the ocean,
The ocean fell in love with the moonlight.
Ah!
Such a honey-like silver night,
Teach me how to miss her.
The falling flowers on the water flow slowly,
Fish swim slowly downstream.
Ah!
Swallow, what did you say?
Teach me how to miss her.
The dead trees shook in the cold wind.
Wildfire burns in the twilight.
Ah!
There is still some afterglow in the west,
Teach me how to miss her.
Thirty, early fifties and thirties, come quickly!
I sang that song when I was three years old, and I still love it:
? Bright mobike? ,
Worship the beautiful world in the coming year.
There are many in the world! Don't do anything!
San Qian bought a Dagong goose with money.
Fly around the river.
Cross the river? Many sisters,
Don't live to sing. ?
I won't say anything today,
Don't live to sing.
Notes? Bright, still called luna; Bright mobike,
It is called the God of Yue Bai, which is the language of children.
? Crossing the border means that side, or the other side
London, 1920