The beginning of modern poetry in spring

( 1)

Thirty degrees below zero

The cold shook its solid tail.

//

water damage

Stick it under the soil again and again

Shrugged, winter

Open a clenched fist

//

Liujiutou

Kites are faster.

Turn over and fly into the sky

//

A well-designed hen

Look around.

Zhu liewai

A pile of straw hung cold.

//

Get down and listen.

The thickest piece of hard ice.

Loose in the gurgling pulse.

(2)

Spring, probe

The tide is coming to the shore.

There are three waves.

//

The dam is thin.

The shepherd walked on it.

And his proud flock.

//

The whistle whirled in the sky.

The sheep whip rattled.

(3)

Last night, the lights on the tower

Become warm

At night, hold up its seven flashing lanterns.

//

I am also under that sky.

Search all over the world

A brush that can draw dreams.

//

or

Comb out a negative with you.

Bake a bunch of candied haws.

And my rich desire

//

After all, the world is too big.

I'm too young.

(4)

It's also evening.

There is still wind beating against the window lattice.

The feeling of hiding in the window

faintly discernible

//

Headache, slight sweating

All the wounds

It is being repaired bit by bit.

Like all days.

It should be as warm as ever

//

You can go out for an outing tomorrow.

Get to know the spring breeze

I meet you