Lan Yu, Blue Star Poetry Society, 1954.
Stalactites, Chinese and foreign pictorial, 1960.
Halloween, Blue Star Poetry Society, 1960.
Lotus, satellite, satellite association, 1964.
Wuling juvenile, satellite, 1967.
Paradise Night Market, Sanmin, 1969.
Dale, Blue Star Poetry Society, 1969.
During the Cold War, Blue Star Poetry Society, 1969.
Dida Baiyu Bitter Melon, 1974.
Sirius, Hong Fan, 1976.
And the eternal tug of war, Hong Fan, 1979.
Selected Poems of Yu Guangzhong (1949- 198 1), Hong Fan, 198 1.
Guanyin crossed the water, Hong Fan, 1983.
Bauhinia Fu, Hong Fan, 1986.
Dream and Geography, Hong Fan, 1990.
An pomegranate, Hong Fan, 1996.
Five elements are unimpeded, nine songs, 1998.
Selected Poems of Yu Guangzhong, Volume II (1982- 1998), by Hong Fan, 1998.
Tall building facing the sea, Jiuge, 2000.
Lotus God, Taiwan Province Jiuge Publishing House, 2008.
Among Yu Guangzhong's three most famous poems, which one do you like "Homesickness"? What impressed you most was Yu Guangzhong's deep yearning for his relatives and compatriots in the mainland and his desire to cross the shallow strait and return to the mainland. If the impression is to write a poem, it is that homesickness is ... in.
Looking for Yu Guangzhong's four poems
Okumo in the new world is at the forefront.
In the center of the dense net, small insects devour astronomical figures.
Digest it with its venom.
I jumped in and fell into the net—
One is subtropical.
Indigestible
Golden beetle
Civilized beasts, skyscrapers crush us.
With three-dimensional indifference, with sinister geometry
Press me, there are many zeros after the number.
Press me, press me, but keep pressing.
Flowing in the gray eyes of strangers
Look west at the horizon.
Lost in the steel canyon, the sun sets early-
He is going to have a picnic in the South China Sea at dawn.
The baton in the bell tower provoked the prelude of dusk,
Vaguely, from Michigan, melancholy and sad.
Jazz came and the street lights turned on in clusters.
The color wind is rolling, and the crazy century is formed-
Sin is maturing, there are snakes and eve in the nightclub,
And the black cat barked and drowned God in the cup.
And the forbidden area of history, in front of the serious art museum,
Persians on the Great Wall are keeping vigil.
The blind lion is watching the vigil,
Wandering in the age of the threshold building, afraid to set foot,
High stone steps.
The nineteenth century woke up, the Renaissance woke up,
Delacroix woke up, Rodin woke up,
Many souls are sleepless, whispering and listening,
Listen-
Outside, the noise of the collapse of the twentieth century.
1958
-
My solidification
Here, in international cocktails,
I'm still a piece of ice that refuses to melt-
Always keep the temperature below zero.
And the hardness of the solid.
I am also very mobile.
It is also easy to move and boil.
I like playing the rainbow slide.
But the sun in China is too far away from me
I am crystalline, transparent and hard.
And cannot be automatically restored.
1959
-
West Luo Qiao
Suddenly, the soul of steel woke up.
Serious and quiet.
The sea breeze in Xiluo Plain shook the building violently.
The pattern of force, the beautiful net, shook the building violently
Every nerve in the tower of will,
Trembling violently, screaming in despair.
The teeth of the nail bite tightly, and the hands of the iron arm hold tightly.
Serious silence.
So, my soul woke up, I know.
I will be different from the one I crossed.
I didn't cross the line, I know.
I can't recover from the other side.
I'm on this shore
However, Yi Meteor Capsule recorded the fate of C extension.
A thousand welcome arms, I have to cross the river.
Facing the door to another world
In the corridor, I trembled slightly.
But the glory of Xiluo Plain
Tell me face to face that the sea is on the other side.
I trembled slightly, but I
Must cross the river,
Standing, great silence.
Wake up, soul of steel.
1958.3. 13
Note: On March 7th, I will return to the north with Xia Qing, cross Xiluo Bridge and stop to take photos for multiple frames. The police officer guarding the bridge asked me to borrow Roy.
Looking at the other side of the bridge, the mirror said, "I've been guarding the bridge for so long, and I still don't know what that side looks like."
-
River of no return
The river of no return, the waves leap into eternity.
The sun rises and the moon sets.
What wave is "The Moon Catcher"?
Which wave is the drowning doctor?
Under the red cliff, people still hang bearded Su, just like bearded Su in ancient times.
Listen, the ichthyosaur went east and disturbed many aquariums.
When I get old, thousands of feet will have grey hair.
I should stall Li Sao.
The lingering Li Sao dragged me home.
Luo, let me swim across the quarry.
Let the immortal river wash away my sins.
The cold river wishes me eternal life.
Like mom's fingers, when I was a child.
Tickle gently, that kind of touch
In The River Never Returning, Chisai, who has thousands of lips, is the mother.
Lick, I gently, kiss, I gently
Kiss, my body *
Backstroke posture is sucking posture.
A steady stream of irrigation for 5 thousand years
Holy liquid that never weans.
Every drop is sweet and sad.
Every drop of water on the top of Kunlun Mountain
In the wind, frost and fog.
Myth from Curtain Kuang Kuang
The long river does not return, and the Long Ping media belongs to Sun.
At dusk, the dragon's tail enters the morning light.
Changlin turned a page of history, a scale.
Page after page, endless sound of running water.
Winners and losers win the same wave.
Floating is eternal, sinking is eternal.
Shun is eternal, and reverse is eternal.
You must follow the prone position and backstroke.
The river of no return is the sound of the river under your pillow all night.
While moving to the left, it is surging in the left ear.
From side to right, cheeks surge on the right.
Lateral rotation
Keep brandishing a knife
People with insomnia have their heads in the Three Gorges.
-
White jade bitter gourd
-The Palace Museum
Like waking up, wake up slowly in the soft light.
It seems that you have been awake for a long time.
Melon is slowly maturing.
Bitter gourd is no longer a bitter color.
The sun grinds and the moon grinds, and the pregnancy is carved.
Look at that stem, that caressing palm.
In which year will the bumper harvest be sucked up in one gulp?
In ancient times, China was fed with milk.
Perfect, round, greasy and full.
These tentacles, constantly expanding outward.
Enrich every butter grape.
Until the tip of the melon, I still stick to the freshness of the day.
The vast Kyushu is only reduced to a map.
When I was young, I didn't know how to fold it.
Spread out endlessly.
As big as my mother in memory, her breasts
You just told that orange?
Her elegant solution uses pedicels and root ropes.
Painful sympathy is hard to satisfy.
Whether it's misfortune or luck, baby.
The love of the whole continent is in a bitter gourd.
Leather shoes have been trampled, horseshoes have been trampled,
The tracks of heavy chariots step on it.
Never left a scar.
It's hard to believe that there is only glass left.
With the blessing of the afterlife.
In the strange light outside time
Cooked, a self-sufficient universe
Full of rot, a fairytale fruit.
Not in the fairy mountain, but on earth.
Long rot, your predecessor, alas, long rot.
A tire-changing hand, a dexterous wrist
I am eager to extradite you.
Laugh at the soul flowing in the white jade
A song sings the bitterness and bitterness of life.
Be extradited forever, and the result will be sweet.
-
Night in the Central Plains
-Above, he looks for the green void, below, the yellow spring.
But he couldn't find what he wanted in two places.
The moon is the soul of lovers and ghosts, and the moonlight is ice.
Light an ever-burning lamp with a blue flame
On the night of Mid-Autumn Festival, ghosts are awake and people are awake.
People on the bridge froze.
Stretching out my cold white arm, the fence on the bridge stopped me.
Stop me from fishing for Li Bai's moon
The moon is an illusion, and so is the moon in the water, not to mention.
Tonight in the Central Plains, people are as poor as ghosts.
Unfortunately, unfortunately, Tanabata is a myth of the blue sky.
Fall to the earth. Mid-Autumn Festival is the hope of the world.
Send in the blue sky. And Zhongyuan.
The Central Plains belongs to the dead, another dimension.
If you come to the bridge in mysterious clothes, if
You cry, you cry on Naihe Bridge.
Laugh as you like.
Are we the protagonists of ghost stories or myths?
It is always the sun that invades, and the light is soft and has no edges and corners.
Floating clouds, floating clouds
Like the smoke around the Buddha lamp
Phosphorus under the bridge, phosphorus on the bridge, my eyes are phosphorus.
The moon is the devil who steals dreams. Can you go back tonight?
The soul on the other side is crowded, and the soul on this side is crowded.
On the way back, my soul was in * * *
And water, flowing under the bridge, tears, flowing on the bridge.
-
Wuling juvenile
The aquarium in Bashixia is very crowded during the typhoon season.
There is a tributary of the Yellow River in my blood system.
The Yellow River is too cold to permeate a lot of alcohol.
Floating at the bottom of the cup is my family tree.
Hey, another sorghum.
In my anger, there is Suiren, and in my tears, there is Dayu.
The drums of Zhuolu are in my ear.
Legend has it that grandpa shot down nine suns.
Having an uncle's name can scare Khan away.
Did you hear that? A bottle of sorghum, please
The golden autumn hangs on the yellow line of the window.
When you lose a horse, all you have is arthritis.
There is no more weekend waiting for me in Ximending.
So a nest of martial arts novels hatched under the pillow.
Have a bottle of sorghum, bartender.
-
Fire bath
Eternal yearning for different elements
Hot and cold in different spaces.
I don't know whether to go up or down.
Rise like a phoenix in fire.
Or a transparent swan floating in the flow
The pure white image reflects the self.
A long neck and a full body are made up of arcs.
Have a desire to wash and burn.
Both are needed in the purification process.
Precipitation needs precipitation, and it's high.
Go into the water to put out the fire for birds, firebirds and waterfowl.
Which process should I choose?
There is a swan swimming in the ice sea in the west.
This is a cold zone, a superhuman climate.
That ice is lonely and frozen.
Silence is time, how complete the reflection is.
Once upon a time, every wild goose was a swan
The water waves are sparkling and unreal, as if they were really in the East.
There is a phoenix in the hot east.
What comes from the fire still has to go back to the fire.
Step by step, a fire danced in the flames.
A burning crow can't burn Feng Chu.
A feather of the sun rises forever, trembling.
A person clearing fire is a journey of a warrior.
Glorious reincarnation is the soul from element to element.
White peacock swan crane white fan
Time stood still, and there was a wise hermit in the middle.
An eternal flame that flows forever
Wash away the sins of warriors, the blood of warriors.
How should you choose your soul?
Choose cold in cold or hot in hot?
Choose the ice sea or the sun.
A neat soul is unclean.
Either ice bath or fire bath is complete.
The enviable completion and bathing in the fire.
Fire bath is more admirable and more difficult.
Fire is more transparent than water and deeper than fire.
Fire, the door of eternal life is arched by death
The challenge of arching an arc with death
Said the dead can't live without hugging.
It's a crow or a phoenix that decides instantly.
A moment of will □ fire.
Accept the death penalty of 1000 sticks
Shout calmly at the thousand words criticized.
I'm not guilty, I'm not guilty, I'm not guilty, flip my back.
I still am. I still am.
Wake up my soul. What's wrong with waking up?
Make public seemed to smell the burning arm in the distance.
The hurricane of time roared my wings.
Hair, crying, bones, moaning, with your own blood.
Put up with flying to Feng Chu, your freshman.
Chaos yue:
My song is an eternal yearning.
My blood is boiling and I jump into the fire bath soul.
Listen to the song of fire in blue ink
Raise it more clearly and loudly after death.
-
Star funeral
The color of night overflows into the window, and summer is too full.
The firefly's dream of a small palace lantern
Dream of Tang Palace and chasing little fans.
Dreaming of a star's funeral on another summer night
Dreaming of the extension and disappearance of a moment
And your sigh, my review and a moment of silence.
-
wind bell
My heart is a wind chime hanging under the eaves of seven floors.
Ding Ning.
Knock on a person's name one after another.
Do you feel a slight earthquake on the tower?
This is a silent pulse, which keeps going day and night.
Did you hear that? Knock, knock, knock.
This annoying tone cannot be banned.
Unless all the winds turn.
Take off the bell and knock down the tower.
Just because my heart is a high and low wind chime
Ding Ning.
Rise in succession
Knock on a person's name
-
Yarn tent
Midsummer night when I was a child.
Naive dreams are all cut with white gauze.
Luo Zhang's dome gently tilted down.
Pore of nebula □□
Looking up is a little hypnotic.
And dream catchers are always dense.
Cann't fly into a bloodthirsty assassin
-Nightcrawler in a black shirt with a dagger.
I had to complain outside.
But I have to add moonlight and shadows.
A few timid insect calls
A wisp of Zen mosquito-repellent incense
Recruit people to sleep, meander to sleep-
open one's eyes
The crimson light is half a bed.
-
Give it to the painter.
They told me that this summer
You may have plans to travel far away.
To see Van Gogh or Xu Beihong.
With an easel and gray hair
He Haoxiao's Sichuan Mandarin
As soon as you left Taipei, my friend was empty.
Long streets and short lanes don't see you turn back
This is a rainy season that cannot be done.
Black umbrella all over the sky, yellow mud all over the ground.
Why can't we wait until the Mid-Autumn Festival?
You can't just take paddy fields in the south.
Those earth temples, those buffaloes
At dusk in summer,
There is always an egret and two egrets.
As if from your ink painting.
Remember something to fly.
-
third-quarter
The third season belongs to flute and clarinet.
Nabikuni always likes to be under the grape trellis.
Count her rosaries.
Purple whispers beat on my window.
Sun is a newsboy who gets up late.
Can't throw any gold news.
I can't put melancholy
Throw the remains of a hexapod like that.
Throw it over the wall.
When the wind is like a greedy wild child
Sweep your long hair, whose round neck are you looking for?
I want to board a Lanyi coach.
To the south. It's still there.
Ask Yu Guangzhong to play Li Bai in a poem.
Yu Guangzhong
You are the reason why the Yellow River water flows out of heaven.
Yinshan east
Longmenkai
Now the Yellow River comes from your words.
Surging laughter
Wan Li surges into the sea.
The great waterfall that sensationalized Kuanglu.
create/beget/fabricate (sth) out of nothing
Not stop.
But where's your little hip flask?
The Yellow River comes from the west and never returns.
Besides, it has been silent for five thousand years.
You are busy enough with the Yellow River.
Dajiang, just give it to Sue's hometown brother.
World dichotomy
All belong to Shu people.
You are in Longmen.
He led Chibi.
How many words can't be said in Yu Guangzhong's two poems?
You put it in red beans and give it to Taiping.
Then travel silently.
You have no ambition.
The turbulent situation makes you have to travel to avoid it.
From then on, you were lonely and calm.
Taiping's bright eyes are covered with autumn water.
In the wind and rain.
Taiping holds your red beans.
Hate you, why only give her a lovesick thread?
In the cool moonlight like autumn water
In the lonely sound of falling flowers
In the whimper of clear spring drifting
You sleep on a clean stone.
You dream of peaceful tears and sad sweet smiles.
You woke up with laughter.
Looking at the moon, tears fall into the mountains.
Your clear thoughts
Infiltrate red beans
In the idle thinking of red beans
You have peace.
Your pure and strong love for red beans
Accompanied by clear mountain springs
Into the hearts of future generations
Lucky offspring
Enjoy eternal spiritual peace from it.
Please listen to the rain with a poem by Yu Guangzhong.
A dozen teenagers are dizzy from listening to the rain. Two dozen middle-aged people listened to the rain, and in the boat, the river was wide and the clouds were low. More than 30 bald heads are listening to the rain under the monk's house.
: the first essay. /sici jianshang/xiandaishi/2344 12 104 . htm
This is all his poems. See if there's anything you want.
Starlight night
-One of Van Gogh's Centennial Celebrations
When all the eyes in the sky are open.
All eyes on the ground are closed.
There was only one pair left at the vigil, yours
Leave the dream on the ground and the light in the sky.
Witness the miracle of the sky.
A plate, a circle
Has become a warm whirlpool, Tianhe
The rolling echo was spit out and swallowed.
The silent Oracle lasted all night.
A straw hat under a dark blue dome
White candles are inserted around the brim of the hat.
Small altar of worship, raised to
All the cutting-edge revelations
A hundred years ago tonight, your eyes
Once rose to this starlight.
A city of bright skies that never goes out.
Never-ending ceremony
I want to go to the audience generation after generation.
A hurried audience.
No, you were alone that night.
The town at the foot of the mountain is under the starlight.
Everyone fell asleep, except the classroom.
The cypress trees on the hillside are swaying with green flames.
Pray with your candlelight.
Just like our eyes in a hundred years.
Also rise to this cluster of stars, Vincent
Follow your silent prayer
1April 5, 990 (source: mittag.bokee./6588300. )
Urgent! Ask for a poem by Yu Guangzhong! It's this
Legend has it that there is a folk song in the north.
Only the vital capacity of the Yellow River can sing.
From Qinghai to the Yellow Sea
The wind also heard it.
The sand also heard it.
If the Yellow River freezes into glaciers,
And the most maternal nasal sound in the Yangtze River.
From plateau to plain
Fish can also hear.
The dragon heard it, too
If the Yangtze River freezes into a glacier,
And me, my red sea is roaring.
From early tide to late tide
Wake up and listen.
I even heard it in my dreams.
One day my blood froze, too.
And your blood. His blood is singing.
From type a to type o
Cry and listen
Listen with a smile.
Du Fu's most famous poems are Eight Poems in Autumn, Five Poems for Generals and Five Poems for Places of Interest.
Three officials: Xin 'an official, Tongguan official and Shi Haoguan.
Three Farewells: Wedding Farewells and No Country for Old Men Farewells.
Wang Yue, climb the building.
The poet Lu You's most famous poem is a visit to Shanxi Village.
Don't laugh at the farmhouse music brewed in the muddled month. In the harvest month, the dishes for guests are very rich.
There is no way to go because of the winding water flow in the mountains, and a mountain village suddenly appears in the willow-green flower bay.
The day of playing flute and drums is approaching, and the villagers are still dressed simply.
In the future, if you can go out in the moonlight, I will knock on your door at any time with my cane.
Show children
I know that when I die, everything on earth has nothing to do with me. But the only thing that hurts me is that I failed to see the reunification of the motherland.
Therefore, when the great Song Jun team recaptures the Central Plains, you will hold a home banquet ceremony. Don't forget to tell me the good news!