Poetry by He Zhongjun

In March, every flower raised a wine glass

The ship was still parked outside the gate of Venus

In the square, the mask on the advertisement

p>

Like a quilt, covering it

An open epidemic

Someone ran away from a high-rise building

No one took care of the stray dog< /p>

From the Liumian Ancient Road, we walked through Xishan Temple

The ground was full of kapok

There were also redbuds, bougainvillea and clivia

Mangoes from Xingzhong Road, lychees from Zimaling

Every flower raises the wine glass in March

I also drank my

cup of bitter wine in one gulp

Living sacrifice

The wind blew through the magnolia tree

The wind Sitting on a stone, I am a branch in the wind, reaching out to the horizon

The rooster is neighing at the top of his voice

The little bull thinks for a while, then becomes lonely

< p> Roar towards Phoenix Mountain

Those who hoe the ground remain silent

Only absinthium, zebra and green cypress

Mixed Breath

Floating across Sifangwan Wufangyan and Liufangzui

In my mind, every day is Qingming

Every time the smoke is lit , are all offering sacrifices in the distance

These living people, those

people who can’t even cry out their suffering

Storm

Door blocking Die, the window is tightly closed

Keep going back and forth in the room

Look at the desk, then look at the stool

Throw down the barbell, then pick up the mop< /p>

The stick is too light, the fruit knife is too small

There is no movement outside

You can rush out, you can slap your face

After drinking water, Throw the cup out

Try your throat, but the momentum is gone

Grab the beer bottle again and take a few gulps

Pick up a folding fan , iron

yanked the door latch. He was stunned

A four-year-old little girl

looked at the fluttering butterflies

on the window with her big eyes open. He hid the fan

behind his back. Like a deflated rubber ball

He gently turned around and entered the house and closed the door

The man who lost his only child

The potatoes in his basket fell through the holes.

Leaked one. When passing under the toon tree

I missed another one. Finally the basket was empty

He was left facing the sunset

Shutting all the shadows outside the wooden door

The old dog barked twice Barking softly,

are two stones thrown into the night lake

In the middle of the night, he slipped from the edge of the dream

Every time The sheep are all parked in odd numbers

The room is vast and the rice is rippling in the room

When one light is on, the other will go out

This is the way of life One thread of cocoon silk is taken out every day

Just like the grass in his hand

Every time he spreads it out, it is the callus

p>

The inner cliff

Starting from the thatched cottage, the hunter's fate

becomes a riddle or a nail in the coffin

The ax lies in your path Everything is eaten away in your hands

From now on, the hunter lives in everyone’s thoughts

The road is heading towards the sky, no matter whether you step first with your left foot

or with your right foot, there will be no difference. Exceptions

Eventually people will find out

You are trapped in your own trap or someone else's trap

Year after year, day after day

You wake up early and work hard at night, giving yourself and others

Setting up various cliffs and getting deeper into the obsession

Just like me, I like to solve mathematics and study suspense

In one cliff after another

You keep pushing yourself down or rebuilding

The tide

The tide rises an inch

p>

The bamboo was motionless, and the owl looked at it

and closed its eyes again. The radish was under the ground

I wanted to move, but it was nailed to the hard soil

The tide rose another foot

The old scalper looked at the distance. The sky

It wants to eat up this piece of green grass

The old man weaving bamboo shoots stood up

Listen, everything is silent.

Only wintersweet

burst into bloom. In the yard

The wedding was going on as usual, and the feast was in full swing

When the tide rose to ten feet high

The waves were coming, and the fisherman who ran out of the cabin shouted

The wind quietly covered his mouth

An iron

An iron, in my body

Twisting, growing

Stretching in different directions

Later, it awakened more iron

Comparing and competing with each other

< p> Iron flowers bloom vigorously and bear iron fruits

They are linked together to form a forest. Like a painting

The shaded part

The escape of an ant

There are no chrysanthemums and knives in the huge rivers and lakes

Invisible A haystack

I walked back and forth a hundred times on the edge of the tank

Only the wind leaked through the gaps in the trees

It gave me a lightness The wings of A grain of snow

Embracing each other for life. I don’t know

The hand of a grain of rice holds a hundred thousand mountains

I began to dig mountains, and I dug up one by digging them

I began to divide I don’t know which one is more important, mountains or hunger

My destiny is: push away the rice and find a way out

And the destiny of rice: plug the loopholes and quell the war

< p> The ending is: I turned into a grain of rice in the tank

Only black in color and slightly hard-bodied

The switch in the dark

Sometimes, you Like a stone

sinking to the bottom of the lake, sinking into

a certain object, a certain atmosphere

a certain slightly raised brow

Starting from the rebound after hitting the bottom

You are like a ball of cotton again

Floating up, down, left and right in the void

And you cannot be in a certain place Stop

At this time, a bird chirped

or a flute sounded, or a breath

inadvertently broke in.

Pengdi

This spark illuminates the dark world

Like someone, accidentally encountered

A long-lost switch

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