Facing the Sea With Spring Blossoms
From tomorrow on, be a happy person/feed horses, chop firewood and travel around the world/from tomorrow on, care about food and vegetables/I have a house facing the sea in spring.
Starting from tomorrow, I will write to every relative/tell them my happiness/what the lightning of happiness told me/I will tell everyone.
Give every river and every mountain a warm name/stranger, and I will bless you/wish you a bright future/wish you all lovers all get married/wish you happiness/I just want to face the sea and bloom in spring.
To mother (poem)
Mother/old, white hair hanging down/mother, you go to rest/there is a quiet son on the hillside/like quiet water on the hillside/flowing in the sky. I sing Cloud/Sister Rain/Beautiful Proposal/I know my poems praising couples are useless. I sing the cloud/I know I will be happy in the end/get together with all the holy people/be in heaven.
snow
My mother is sitting on a low stool in my hometown, thinking that I/that stool seems to be my snow roof, my mother's roof/tomorrow morning/Xia Guangwan Road/I want to see you, mom, mom/you face the barn/set foot on the dusk, mom, mom/I know you are old.
Motherland (or dreams are horses)
I want to be a loyal son from afar/and a short-lived material lover/like all poets who take dreams as horses/I want to walk on the same road with martyrs and clowns, and everyone should put out the fire. I want to hold myself high/this is a big fire, blooming in the sacred motherland/like all poets who take dreams as horses/I want to spend the long night of my life with a second fire.
This big fire, the language of the motherland and the rocky Liangshan Castle/dream of Dunhuang-in July, cold bones/such as firewood and hard snow, threw the mountain of the gods/like all poets who dreamed of horses/into this fire. These three are the lamps that imprisoned me and spit out brilliance.
Ten thousand people will go through my knife to build the language of the motherland/I would like to start from scratch/like all poets who take dreams as horses/I would also like to go to prison. Of all the creations of the gods, only I am the most perishable and die at an irresistible rate/only food is my treasure. I will hold her tightly and hold her to have children in my hometown/like all poets who take dreams as horses/I would also like to bury myself in the mountains around me.