-A song for my mother
Stepping on the breath of spring
This beautiful day
Fuck you and fuck me.
My heart is as warm as the sea.
I really want to sing a carol for you.
I am neither a singer nor a poet.
I can't write a melody or sing a poem.
I lack flash inspiration and genius thinking.
I am ashamed that the deepest love can't be explained by a trickle.
But today,
I want to present a heart song for you.
May my song become a needle and thread.
Sew up the split wound for you.
May my songs turn into raindrops.
Moisten throat and quench thirst.
May my songs turn into clouds.
Bring fragrance to your life.
My original song turned into a cloud.
Refracting the luster of the sun for you
it's you
Gave me a beating pulse.
it's you
Gave me the joy of my childhood.
it's you
Teach me to take my time in adversity
2. Mother
Years climb on your forehead,
Time flies on my shoulders,
In the morning light, you smile,
There are still many vicissitudes,
Hold up my soft wings.
That sweet and delicious meal,
A warm and soft sweater;
Tireless teaching;
The complex of life is closely connected with me,
After being dissolved in the blood,
In the bone marrow,
In my heart,
Your love touched me.
I finally know that there is one thing in this world,
Richer than the water in the Yangtze River,
More thrilling than the Yellow River;
Tougher and evergreen than the green of pine and cypress;
That's your love,
Your deep love,
Selfless love,
My mother.
Step 3: Hands
I don't understand everything you gave me.
You polish my eyes.
So the world opened before my eyes.
I started walking up and down this strange street.
But you can always see a pair of big hands protecting and guiding.
I am chasing these big hands and stroking their vicissitudes covered by history.
However, I can't help sighing about the lost time.
It's these eager eyes.
You never stop, you must keep going.
I don't know what the destination is.
Your soul has left your body.
Does the soul not feel tired?
The world will eventually be gathered by eyes.
The street you walk on will no longer be strange.
Looking at those beautiful big hands, my eyes blurred.
4, March 8th poetry reading draft:
To mother before March 8:
Mom, mom
Thank you for the opportunity to call you again and again like this.
Let me call you softly over and over again.
Mom, mom
Is the rape in my hometown fragrant?
Your hunchbacked figure
Is it still among the little strangers?
Looking for a childhood daughter
Mom, mom
Thank you for giving me life in more than 40 hours of pain and struggle.
Let me wander all the pains, tears and smiles in the world.
Mom, mom
Have the willows in the small village sprouted?
Are you still looking forward to it under the tree
Waiting for a long-lost baby
Mom, mom
Thank you for hugging me in countless poor and cold days.
Let me dream sweet and gentle dreams all my life in your vest and arms.
Mom, mom
Are cats and wild dogs still fighting outside the fence?
Did you feed them white rice again?
Since then, they have a home to rely on.
Mom, mom
The continuous spring rain made her daughter's sad heart more sad.
Have you ever caught a cold, fallen down, or been alone in the light?
Mom, mom
If there is an afterlife, please be my daughter.
Let me love you so that we can live forever.
In the alternation of reincarnation, it becomes a warm dream.
If there is no you in the world-I want to give this document to great women:
If there is no you in this world,
What it would be like,
I can't imagine.
When you are away in spring,
Flowers are no longer fragrant,
Birds stop singing;
When you were away in summer,
As if I had lost the sun,
Every day is lonely.
The world will get cold;
When you are away in autumn,
Even if you get everything,
No one to share with me;
Not in winter.
What should I do,
The days that have passed seem so long.
If there is no you in this world,
What will happen to me,
I can't imagine.
When I was young,
Who will feed me and teach me to thrive;
In old age,
Who will accompany me and walk by the river to watch the sunset?
When you're lost,
Who will give me courage and guide me to the sunshine;
When you succeed,
I was reminded not to be too arrogant.
Why doesn't it matter if it has how bright,
I also think the world is sad;
Why even if the scenery here is unique,
In my eyes, too.
Why?
I loudly questioned the world:
the original
The world has changed without you!
If there is no you in this world,
What the world will become,
I can't imagine.
Fortunately, you are still with me.
All this is my ignorant imagination.
Dedicated to mother
Sitting quietly on a flower has been integrated with the book.
Because of her concentration, the book opened countless cold black eyes.
How beautiful and quiet! those years
I grew up healthily by tasting such scenes. She read softly, rippling in the air.
Love wave
Smell the homesick sea!
This bending posture makes the sun bend to the ground;
Such snow-white hair makes every winter pure and beautiful.
Old mother! Read longer than my life! Sitting quietly in the chill of early spring.
The waves are layered with my years. When I went to the seaside as a student, I wrote a magnificent poem.
Waiting for your reading!
Untitled
A river of youth suddenly flows away with a bang.
Mom! I stopped by a blue sky and my bike leaned against the sun.
Underwater blue sky and deep water: boundless clouds
At this time, clouds are wandering around.
The flowers in my life suddenly bloom.
This is a mess of beauty everywhere! I drank the waves and rode away on my bike, the wheels rolling.
I'm far, far away ―― completely gone!
The rest of my body is next to the endless blue wave.
The rest of my poems record life, in full bloom-
What is left to me is green mountains and green waters, living and working.
I can only live in my mother's poems.
Living, melancholy, singing, full of hope.
Waiting for your return!
tornado
This is one of countless spring mornings, a roar of thunder.
Mom! The bamboo basket for washing vegetables is so ethereal that it seems that a thunderstorm will not come in the red morning light!