The eighties of poetry

I am a young man.

poplar

About the author: Born in 1944, 36 years old. This is a lynx. Living in the desert for a long time, he has carved three long lines and two short articles on his forehead; Because of the blood heat in the brain, my hair has gone bald by about 25%.

People still call me a youth. ......

Ha ... I'm a young man!

I'm young, my God!

Thank you for giving me a furnace that doesn't produce steel.

Seal and sniff out my youth;

Thank you for giving me a refrigerator.

Refrigerate and preserve my soul;

Thank you for giving me the ashes of the burning mountain.

Bury my germ in a deep stream;

Thank you for giving me a diaosi that I can't figure out.

Let me be a cocoon of the river of time.

So I'm young-when my poems

When you appear in front of people,

Like the sheepskin pockets of Kazakh herders.

Fermented yogurt is as fresh as yogurt!

..... Ha, I'm a young man!

I am young, my Hu Da!

Like countless young companions of mine—

Youth is lost in the desert,

Only the ding-dong camel bell hypnotized me;

Youth is exposed to the scorching sun,

There is only one dried apricot that tastes terrible.

The bald forehead may be a mound that has long been abandoned.

Curved wrinkles may be random parabolas.

I was young when we came back.

In spring,

You look at me, I look at you,

Ha ... we all have the characteristics of a generation!

As a young man,

Participated in numerous youth conferences,

To tell the truth, I don't doubt my condition when I was young.

Thirty-six years old, MINUS "ten",

Just ... no, the group is only over a year old!

The author of Scream

He was older than us,

Compared with those who never get old during the Long March,

Young soldiers,

We are just a "children's group"!

..... Ha, I'm a young man!

Irony? And laugh at yourself,

Bitter taste is spicy-salty.

Motherland!

You should feel sorry for a child like you,

Or is your child like this?

Should feel bitter for you?

I often look at naive children,

Stranger, I also caressed my rosy little face.

They looked at me strangely, tilted their heads,

Like a flock of birds watching dinosaur eggs.

They're gone, they're gone,

Maybe you are going to be young,

I only have the footsteps of my heart trembling slightly. ......

..... No, I have to tell my country:

The most precious thing in the world,

Nothing is more important than the autonomy of youth!

I love, I want to, but I'm not jealous.

I cry, I laugh, but I don't complain.

I am ashamed, I am ashamed, but I will not give up.

I am angry, I hate, but I don't lament.

Since this special era,

It has become a special concept of youth.

I will say to the blue sky, I am-youth!

I'm a young man-

My blood vessels will never be blocked by sand;

I'm a young man-

My pupils will never be covered with fog.

My bald forehead is a piece of Yuan Ye in early spring.

My wrinkles are the starting point of a big river.

I'm not an alcoholic, I don't want to dream during the day;

I am not an old woman, sighing for the New Year;

I'm not a turtle. I sleep longer and live longer.

I am an eagle-there is ambition in the clouds!

I am a horse-with a saddle on my back!

I am a bone-there is calcium in the bone!

I am Khan-there is salt in sweat!

Motherland!

Because you have too many disabilities.

Put us in the youth echelon,

We have young people and middle-aged people-shoulder to shoulder!