Shi Miao Tan Jiahui
On a cold snowy night,
I'm waiting,
Waiting for spring to come to me-
I heard.
Running water brings the pace of spring,
The wind is spreading,
There is also a distant gentle call and
Whispering of seeds.
Before spring comes,
I decided,
Forgive the silence of the mountain,
It's like understanding the lowliness of dead branches.
Waiting for a ray of light,
Preferably a strand,
Long-lost sunshine,
Jump happily over the mottled window,
Jump into my cold heart—
I want to write off all my grievances in the spring,
Smile at every flower and rejoice at every new leaf.
Eager eyes. Look who says peach blossoms are as frivolous as the wind.
Tell a joke to a beach of grass,
Watching them laugh their heads off in the breeze,
If you reach out and fold the note,
Waiting for the spring scenery, dripping water.
I have to wait on the windowsill,
Boring
Look at the clouds hanging in the blue sky, one, two, seven and eight.
……
Carefully observe the beautiful colors of lyric pigeon feathers,
Clap for its unbridled sliding between the kite and the breeze.
Pedestrians in crowded streets are in a hurry and have serious faces.
See others hide their eyes and ears.
Act alone.
In this disastrous season,
I'm waiting-
Waiting for spring to come to me,
Waiting for a long meeting,
Life like a storm.
When the sun goes down,
Sophora japonica falls,
I will hide the spring in the drawer and the memory in my gentle heart.
——2022.04.06 13:5 1