They trust each other,
It was a sudden passion that brought them together.
This certainty is beautiful, but it is not sure that it is better.
They have never met, so they are sure that they have nothing to do with each other.
But words from streets, stairs and halls
They may have passed each other a million times.
I want to ask them if they remember.
At the moment when the revolving door is opposite.
Or whisper sorry in the crowd,
Or dialed the wrong number.
But I know the answer,
Yes, they don't remember.
They'll be depressed,
It turned out that fate had teased them for years.
When the time is not ripe, it becomes their destiny.
Fate pushes them forward,
Distance hindered them,
Resistance disappears, and then step aside.
Facing the Sea With Spring Blossoms
-Haizi
From tomorrow on, be a happy person.
Comb hair, chop wood and travel around the world.
From tomorrow on, I will care about food and vegetables.
Living in a house facing the sea, spring is blooming.
From tomorrow on, write to everyone I love.
Tell them my happiness,
What did the lightning of happiness tell me,
I will distribute it to each of them.
Give every river and mountain a warm name.
Stranger, I will also wish you happiness.
I wish you a bright future!
May you lovers get married!
May you be happy on earth.
I only want to face the sea and spring blossoms.
Facing the sea, spring blossoms are a lyric masterpiece of Haizi, written in 1989 65438+ 10/3. Two months later, Haizi committed suicide by lying on the tracks near Shanhaiguan. Facing the sea, spring blossoms, a poem, the language is simple and clear, meaningful, fresh and natural, imagining a fresh and lovely and vibrant happy life in the world, expressing the poet's sincere and kind wishes, hoping that every stranger in the world can get happiness. Haizi's lyric poem "Facing the Sea" is simple in language, natural in image, elegant in thought and neat in form, which makes people feel unfinished after reading it. Aside from Haizi's life experience and shocking writing time, the focus of appreciation is mainly on the language and meaning of this poem.
I am a wayward child.
-Focus on the city.
I am a wayward child.
I want to paint windows all over the world.
Let all eyes accustomed to darkness get used to light.
perhaps
I am a child spoiled by my mother.
I am very self willed
I hope
Every moment.
As beautiful as colored crayons.
I hope
You can draw on your beloved white paper.
Freedom to paint clumsily.
Draw the next picture Never.
With tears in my eyes
A piece of sky
A feather and leaf belonging to the sky.
Light green night and apples
I want to draw the morning.
Draw dew
The smile you can see.
Draw all the youngest
Love without pain
She has never seen a cloud.
Her eyes are the color of a clear sky.
She always looks at me.
Forever, watch
Never turn around suddenly.
I want to paint the distant scenery.
Draw a clear horizon and water waves
Draw many happy rivers.
Painting mountains—
Full of fuzzy fluff
I put them together.
Let them fall in love.
Let every acquiescence
Every quiet spring is exciting.
Turned into a little flower's birthday.
I also want to paint the future.
I haven't seen her, and I can't.
But I know she is beautiful.
I drew her autumn clothes.
Draw those burning candles and maple leaves
I paint a lot because I love her.
Extinguished heart
Hua wedding
Draw an early-rising festival-
There is cellophane on it.
And illustrations of northern fairy tales
I am a wayward child.
I want to erase all my misfortunes.
I think on earth
Draw all the windows
Let all eyes get used to the darkness.
Accustomed to the light
I want to paint a style.
Draw a mountain higher than the last one.
Draw the desire of the oriental nation
Draw the sea—
Endless sweet sound
Finally, in the corner of the paper
I want to paint myself, too
Draw a koala
He sat in the dark jungle of Victoria.
Sitting on a quiet branch
stare blankly
He has no home.
There is no heart in the distance.
He only has, a lot.
Berry dream
And big eyes.
I hope
think
But somehow,
I have no crayons.
Don't get a color moment.
I only have me.
My fingers and pain.
Just shredded pieces.
Beloved white paper
Let them find butterflies.
Let them disappear from today.
I'm still a kid.
A child spoiled by an imaginary mother
I am very self willed