Love's poem
1. Graveyard by the River
Notes on going to the grave for my dead mother
My knees are a little
not painful
When I knelt on the loess
I tried to stretch my wrist
I shook your thistle-like hand
I just had a fight. Stealing
A green bristlegrass ran around the graveyard
and returned to the soil where I laid my forehead
I pulled it up by the roots
There were still
your warm snorts
2,
Beyond Smoke calls your name in the sound of the waves, but your name
has gone out of Qian Fan
The shoe print on the left is only in the afternoon
The shoe print on the right is dusk
June used to be a very sad book
The ending is so sad
The sun sets
You still stare < Kneeling to you, I look at the cloud that was beautiful all afternoon yesterday.
Hey, why
among all the lights, what can I catch by lighting that one alone
?
Your eyes that were once called clouds
Now people call them
Smoke
3, Peeling Pears at Midnight
Cold and thirsty
I quietly looked at
a Korean pear
on the coffee table at midnight. It was indeed a
pear with cold tentacles
a brassy complexion
and it was cut open
and its chest
was hidden
. Thumb and forefinger gently twist
a small piece of pear meat
white is innocent
the knife falls
I bend down to find
! There are
my brassy skin
4. Reading Letters at Midnight
The midnight light
is a naked river
Your letter comes like a tail fish
Reading the warmth of water
Reading the moving scales on your forehead
Reading rivers is like reading a mirror
. Rainy Evening
Rainy night
Pass your cable
I'm a wingless boat
Pass your arm
I'm going to your port, I'm going to dock
I'm coming from the storm, and my wrist is covered with moss
Oh, Let me dock
If the sun rises from your chest
Please move the sunflower out of the window into the house
It also needs suction, just as I
If I am deeply attracted by you, Tie
6. Under the Window
When the twilight is decorating the window after the rain
I can detect the depth of the distant mountain from here
Take a breath on the window glass
Then draw a long path with my fingers
and a figure at the end of the path
Someone has gone from the rain
7.
heavy snow in Hunan
to Li Yuanluo in Changsha
I used to be gone
I'm thinking about it now
it's raining
the date of your return
it's already written in the rain in the late Tang dynasty
the rain in Bashan
and it took me two thousand years to get through my rain
. The mountain
falls on your sleepless window
the snow falls on
a complex and simple silence
Silence is also like
the candlelight shining on your desk
suddenly a cold wind sweeps up the door curtain
I walk in with my crown on my head. Go straight to your study
and look back. The snow light on the walls of Jiao Ran
dyed my beard
and also dyed it
The place in our hearts
Before greeting
There was some distant palpitation
Fortunately, the smell of wine on the stove
gradually dispelled the historical chills
You said: < p Ok! I gladly raised my glass
and then gave a heavy cough
with a strong accent of Hunan
only scared
the cold snow that came out of the window
flew backwards
you and I gathered here on this snowy night
the world suddenly shrank into an inch
the tea leaves withered early
the flowers were ruined < Although the candle is short
, the words in the ashes can be piled up into a history
You frequently advise to drink
Words start with a there's a stir of red in the quiet stove
Drinking is a shallow smile
It is a silent sigh
It is a sour feeling that you want to say but can't be broken
It is a pile of old letters
It is a cold feeling today. The warmth of tomorrow
is a plate of bacon fried
is a bowl of crucian carp fried
is Jiang Tao in your chest
is the wave in my blood
is a poem of Chu people that is more successful than tears.
It was the thrill of the fifties
It was the flying spirit of the sixties
At this moment, there was a rustling sound outside the window
Shh! You listen
fortunately
it's just a pair of spikes walking through the snow
the snow is silent
the street lights are awake
the soil is asleep and the roots are awake
the birds are asleep and the wings are awake
the temple is asleep and the bells are awake
the mountains and rivers are asleep and the scenery is awake
the seeds are awake in spring. Books are asleep and poems are awake
History is asleep and time is awake
The world is asleep and you and I are awake
The snow is silent
The night is deep
You still keep adding wine for me. Charcoal
It's extremely cold outdoors
It's extremely hot in the body
Have a cup of herbal tea
Let me wake up a little to adjust my body temperature inside and outside
Tomorrow, I won't panic
Because we finally understand that
Wash my eyes with white snow
refine my thoughts with condensation in snow
The myth made up in the past
is nothing more than a bed
. Nightmare
We have been through
frost
injury
pain
persistence and giving up
sometimes holding our heads high
sometimes burying our heads in the sand
those lost years
those years of holding lanterns to search for our own shadow
are already
. Or we can allow some arguments
some bashful faces
some solemn and stirring
I want to say too much
and forget to say more
The lamentation is not that I have no choice but to be forced back by bursts of hiccups
The rivers and lakes are vast
The clouds are stirring
I am visiting in the snow tonight
. Never * * * The boy who passed
fat horse and light fur
is talking about the boundless universe
how ambiguous the world is
Who can decipher the impermanence of this life
Pushing the window to ask the sky
The sky should say goodbye with a bone-chilling wind
Just in the instant darkness when you cut the candle again
I fly up < The sun outside Wan Li chases away
only to seek an answer
8. Reading Du Fu on the Bus
news at this far western station! The north has been recaptured!
The car is too long. At first sight of Anxi Road
The dust and smoke are like the panic of An Lushan's defeated army
When Xuanzong returned to Beijing from Shu, he accidentally looked back
but it was inevitable.
at first I cannot check the tears from pouring on my coat
The tears accumulated for many years
finally flooded and soaked the whole history
Lift the tattered sleeves to wipe away the vertical and horizontal sides of his face
Followed by a deep sigh
Dust fell on the walls in shock
Put away the unfinished poems on the case
Problems such as uncoordinated rhythm, lack of imagery and so on
Wait until the wine is hot, then scrutinize them carefully
. What's the worry?
Eight years' separation from chaos
It's the last time for couples to worry about this.
The news of worry comes suddenly for fear of inaccuracy.
Worrying about life is too long and it's too short.
Where is the end of tomorrow?
I'm worried about going home for a while, but I see my wife's smile as warm as a fire.
It's snowing outside the window.
. Suddenly stopping on Heping East Road
I found that the car was full of clothes in the middle Tang Dynasty
There was a sound in my ears
I saw a Confucian in the back seat packing his bags in a hurry
The old shirt of books and poems was scattered all over the floor
Seven points of ecstasy, three points of sighs
Sometimes I looked up intently, sometimes my eyebrows were low and I thought
The heart after the robbery was fire. It's also gray
and loud my song and deep my drink
Let me be drunk to death once
More waking up
Nothing more than a shallow foot in the mud
No more poems
Nothing more than a bloody villain
Nothing more than a black and blue wine in a scar
. It's the only way to take me home.
on the green spring-day that starts me home
The mountains are full of water
The sunshine is full of flowers
The sky is full of birds
The spring and the hiccups are on the road
The rain is full of snow
The river is full of boats
The roads are full of cars
The timidity of approaching the countryside is on the road < p. Out of Chengdu Road
I can still hear the chanting of watering the flowers in the thatched cottage
Beyond it is Baidi City, which is the whistling of apes on both sides of the strait
From Baxia and Wuxia, the mind is like a torrent of water
Half of them are on the river
The other half has already arrived in Luoyang
What a panic it was to pull fibers into Sichuan in those years
Today, I sit at the bow and read the sunset on the cliff
. Out of Sichuan
I trudged all the way from Chang 'an in spring
to Kuizhou in autumn
Now you're finally back in Luoyang, which is full of peonies
and I got off at South Hangzhou Road halfway
and bumped into the misty world of mortals
I couldn't see where the misty and rainy West Lake was
Where is my Jiangnan water town
(one)
. Accidentally
after chills, he was classified as an irregular verb, and wondered
why the sun kept running in the direction of blood
except for the snow
only the thin paper kite hanging on the dead tree
the sound of partridges. Its penetrating power is
better than all knives
and
why does the bronze statue in the square never make a sound
He said that he was unclear
He was the man who
had a pupa hidden in his chest
He put his finger into his throat to reach for it
How he wished that a butterfly would
flapping its wings from vomiting. > hats for father
clothes for mother
shoes for children
pillows for wife
ties for friends
umbrellas for neighbors
(he yawned)
beds for termites
books for cockroaches
photos for walls
letters for fire
poems for wind and rain < Leave it to the moon
(he crouches down slowly)
Give the hands and feet back to the forest
Give the bones back to the soil
Give the hair back to the grass
Give the fat back to the flame
Give the blood back to the rivers
Give the eyes back to the sky
(he suddenly raises his head)
Give joy back to the birds
Give anger back to his fists. Give the mirror
hatred to the bomb
blank to the history
(prepare for the sprint)
He began to melt into the street
He began to melt into the dust
He began to melt into the snow
He began to walk into the trees
He began to melt into the steel
He began to blend into the flowers
So he was promoted to
Longer. It's also hidden and obvious
It seems to be
naked
mountains are generally naked and loose
water is generally naked and fish is generally
wind is generally naked and smoke is generally
stars are generally naked and night is generally
fog is generally naked and fairy is generally
face is generally naked and tears are generally
(the third) Sound
1,
Epiphany
The thorn vine projects into the sky
The cemetery, as vacant as we are
the dead and the undead, are all looking for an epiphany
a kind of
simplicity
that the moonlight shines on the grass. We once laid down our lives for love, and really
a Grenade that attempted suicide can testify.