Cook, take medicine on time, and put yourself in when the sun is good, like putting a piece of dried tangerine peel. Drink tea in turn: chrysanthemum, jasmine, rose and lemon.
These beautiful things seem to take me on the road of spring. So I hold down the snow inside again and again. They are too white and too close to spring. I read your poems in the clean yard. This favor is like a sparrow flying suddenly, and the time is bright.
I'm not fit to be deeply grieved. If I send you a book, I won't send you poetry. I will give you a book about plants and crops. Tell you the difference between rice and barnyard grass, tell you that a barnyard grass is scary, spring.
My dog, Xiao Wu. It followed me when I limped out of the yard. We crossed the vegetable garden, crossed the ridge and walked north to grandma's house. I fell into the ditch and it wagged its tail. I reached over and it licked the blood on my hand. He was drunk. He said that there is a woman in Beijing who is more beautiful than me.
When they are desperate, they go dancing. He likes dancing women, watching their hips shake. He said they would call the bed and have a nice voice. It's not like I didn't say anything. Burying his face all the time, eating without saying a word, shouting "little witch, little witch" and throwing some meat to it.