An inspirational ancient poem "Wandering Ballad"
When the sea breeze blows,
The dark water is full of blue roses.
-What about the homeless family?
The fence gate is the home of spiders.
The earth wall is the home of Ficus pumila.
The leafy fruit trees are the home of birds.
Wanderers don't even have homesickness,
He floats between whales and sea pythons:
Let the lonely flowers bloom and fall at home.
Because there are blue roses on the sea,
Does the wanderer want to haunt his deserted home?
There are more beautiful companions than roses.
A beautiful little traveling companion is a warmer home,
Homesickness of wanderers lingers there.
Well, forever floating between whales and sea pythons.
Inspirational ancient poem "My Memory"
My memory is faithful to me.
More loyal than my best friend,
It lives on burning cigarettes,
It lives on a pen painted with lilies,
It lives in an old box,
It feeds on fallen raspberries,
It lives in a half-drunk bottle,
On the torn poems in the past,
On the pressed flower piece,
On the dim light,
On the calm water,
Of all things with and without souls,
It's everywhere,
Just like I am in this world.
It's timid,
It's afraid of people's noise,
But when I'm lonely,
It visited me at close range.
Its voice is very low,
But its words are long, long,
Very long, very trivial, never willing to rest;
Its writing is ancient,
Always telling the same story,
Its tone is harmonious,
Always singing the same song,
Sometimes I imitate the voice of a girl who loves jiao.
Its voice is weak,
But also with tears, with a sigh.
Its visit is still uncertain,
At any time, at any place,
Often when I have gone to bed, I feel sleepy;
Or choose an early morning,
People will say it's impolite,
But we are old friends.
This is trivial and will never stop.
Unless I cry sadly,
Or fell asleep,
But I will never hate it,
Because it is loyal to me.
The inspirational ancient poem "Broken Finger"
Dai wangshu
In an old dusty bookshelf,
I soaked a broken finger in an alcohol bottle;
Whenever I am bored looking for ancient books,
It evoked a sad memory.
This is the severed finger of a dead friend of mine.
Very pale,
Thin, like my friend;
Always haunting me,
Obviously,
When he gave me this severed finger:
"Save this ridiculous and sad love memorial for me,
In a fragmented career,
This can only increase my misfortune. "
His words were comforting,
Calm, like a sigh,
There seemed to be tears in his eyes,
Although with a smile on his face.
I don't know his "ridiculous and pathetic love",
I only know that he was arrested in a worker's house;
Then torture, then miserable prison,
Then the death penalty, and then when we are all dead.
I don't know his "ridiculous and pathetic love",
He never told me,
Even when drunk.
But I think it must be a sad thing,
He's hiding,
He wants to be forgotten with the broken finger.
This broken finger is still stained with ink.
It's red,
It's lovely bright red,
Very dazzling on this broken finger,
Just like he blames others for looking at me with cowardly eyes.
This broken finger often brings me faint, sticky sadness,
But this is a very useful treasure for me.
Whenever you are depressed about a little thing,
I would say, "Well,
Let me take that glass bottle out. "