Author: forefinger
When cobwebs mercilessly sealed my stove.
When the smoke of ashes sighs the sorrow of poverty
I still stubbornly smooth away the ashes of disappointment.
Write with beautiful snowflakes: believe in the future.
When my purple grapes turn into dew in late autumn
When my flowers snuggle up to other people's feelings
I still stubbornly use frosted vines.
Write on the desolate land: believe in the future.
I want to use my fingers to stir the waves that rush to the horizon.
I want to hold the sun in my hand.
The warm and beautiful pen flickers with the dawn.
Write with a child's pen: believe in the future.
I believe in the future.
Yes, I believe that people's eyes in the future
She brushed away the eyelashes of history.
She has a student who can read through the years.
No matter what people think of our rotting bodies.
Those lost blues, the pain of failure.
It was tears of emotion and deep sympathy.
Or give a contemptuous smile and bitter ridicule?
I firmly believe that people are interested in our spine.
Countless explorations, lost ways, failures and successes.
I will definitely give a warm, objective and fair evaluation.
Yes, I am anxiously waiting for their comments.
Friends, believe in the future.
Believe in indomitable efforts
Young people who believe in overcoming death.
Believe in the future and love life.
enjoy life
Author: forefinger
Maybe my thin body is like climbing kudzu vine,
Unable to grasp the future of one's own destiny,
Then please listen to my voice in the biting wind and rain,
Still whispering repeatedly: love life.
Maybe after the fierce struggle in life,
I died more peacefully than the lake.
Then please go to the cemetery to find my inscription,
It also says: Love life.
I made up my mind to use pain as a weight,
I have confidence: make Libra with my life.
I want to measure the value of a person's life,
I hope future generations will follow my example: love life.
Indeed, I cherish what belongs to me.
That winding path,
Through this winding path,
I just realized that life is so hard.
I came barefoot like a waif,
I deeply felt the hardness of the hard rocks on the road.
Plus the brambles in the way.
Let me leave blood behind every step.
I walk barefoot like a beggar,
Knowing the hunger and cold in the snow in winter,
As hot as the poisonous sun in summer,
This makes me cherish every trace of warmth a hundred times.
But I have the personality to challenge the old forces,
Although I have experienced setbacks, I will never take it lightly.
I can live tenaciously until now,
That is: believe in the future and love life.
1978 Beijing
Say goodbye to youth
Author: forefinger
Farewell, youth
Drunk all night
Now open the bottle and soak the herbs.
Carefully fill a small handleless wine cup with eight dollars.
Then taste it bit by bit.
A little bitter life
Farewell, youth
Smoke from an argument
Still lit one by one.
Spend a long day quickly
The difference is that I am willing to keep the peace.
Although, loneliness is a kind of relaxation.
Farewell, youth
We are in the hot sun and heavy rain.
Seven points smart, used for a smooth life.
Finally, fame and fortune raped chastity.
After earning comfort, I still feel something is missing.
Because I lost my soul and bid farewell to my youth.
1989
To Kane
Author: Pushkin
Written in 1825, Kane (1800- 1879): Pushkin met her in Petersburg. Later, when Kane was imprisoned in the village of Mihailov, he came to San Shancun near the village and kept in regular contact with Pushkin. Pushkin gave this poem to Kane when she left.
If life cheats you.
( 1825)
If life deceives you,
Don't be depressed and don't be angry!
Restrain yourself for a while when you are unhappy,
Believe it, a happy day will come.
Our hearts look forward to the future,
Today is always sad:
Everything is temporary, fleeting,
The dead will become lovely.
Writing background This poem was written when Pushkin was exiled by the czar. This poem was written in the form of a gift poem to Ye Fu Bracia, the daughter of neighbor Osipo Dole. Nikolayev na? This is from the welfare album. The Russian revolution was in full swing there, but the poet was forced to be isolated from the world. Under such circumstances, the poet did not lose hope and fighting spirit. He loves life and pursues his ideals persistently, believing that light will come and justice will win.