Early in the morning, two old people are always in front of the window sill.
As satisfied as facing ten thousand acres of fertile land.
They grow whole grains in flowerpots.
This basin is wheat from Toona sinensis, and this basin is corn from Shuiquan Bay.
This is buckwheat in the high cliff depression, and that pot is flax in Aoziliang.
..... a caterpillar appeared.
They are as busy as when they first started working on the farm.
There are also wheat stripe rust and corn smut.
And starscream and mite ... when they come.
They cleaned their clothes and blamed each other.
"It must have come out of your flesh."
I can see that.
They can't let go of their worship of bumper harvests.
This is to plant one on the windowsill.
Vivid Lijiashan
My village, my shadow
The mountains are covered with sunset.
There is a bright moon in the night sky.
The road controls the road.
The locust tree has a bird's nest in its mouth.
The eyes of the pond are full of frogs.
Clover covered with morning dew.
The river is full of heavy stones and floating clouds.
The valley is full of swan songs of a big bird.
There are countless sheep fears in the blood of a surging wave.
The sun and the moon sit firmly on the branches.
And the village called Lijiashan.
It took eighteen years to spit me out.
Like a radish that can't cut vegetables.
Maisui bowed their heads and asked the village.
"Endless years, who is that?
The empty back that I have loved for half my life in vain. "
I stick to the window like an ear of wheat.
The sunshine during the day is very good, and I failed.
Several people drank tea together for a long time.
I've thought about it. When Mai Huang was in June.
I can't cut wheat with my mother.
The sky locked by the window frame
Stick to your own strength, it looks terrible.
I stick to the window like an ear of wheat.
Can't participate in the carnival of the whole wheat field.
Where is the sickle in mom's hand?
I have the attributes of wheat, but I failed.
Later, I sent a message to my mother:
"The silver moon is like a sickle, it will harvest me."
Each branch lives in a village.
Your God is in the temple, and he looks down at his toes.
It's like seeing a river flowing with blood.
If you are sincere,
You will see a village living on every branch.
There are your parents, wife and children, land, cattle and sheep in it.
All the leaves point in different directions.
Like many times, I wandered in different places.
But I always have to look back, because one day.
Like you, I can't help being trapped.
Sit facing south.
When I opened my eyes, I saw the sunshine.
I was in a trance, and then I calmed down.
You'd better sit facing south.
The north wind roared and it was difficult to cross the high wall behind him.
The south wind brings rain and affectation.
It's worth knocking on my door and window.
You can take a bath a little further, and you can take a step back and look ahead.
Suitable for marrying a person and burying a person.
In April, the sky is just right.
Enjoy it and write a poem.
Sunlight pours in and words are warm.
I can't help touching it.
Pleasant evening
Shan Ye is clear and bright, and I sit alone.
The mountains stretch out into the distance, like an unclear future.
Once the horseshoe set foot on the night, we spent * * *
The handkerchief in my hand is the last good night you gave me.
In the weeds, the moon is shining with cold light.
One of the few stars is the one I know.
Later, the insects chirped and the crops in the field grew gratifying.
They didn't cry, I cried, as if no one heard me.
As if in a dream, she handed me a look.
At dawn, things around me gradually opened their eyes.
There is a road in front of the village, but I don't want to go.
Roadside plants
Not worthy, brighter than moonlight.
Don't argue with wheat, don't cry with onions.
Turn green alone, secretly deserted.
Traveling fireflies, with lanterns and stems
The night is heavy and windy without complaint.
The cricket swallowed the thorn in his voice.
I'm just worried about it. I drank too much dew.
Will you get drunk?
Akita fell asleep and wealth snored.
Flowers and plants on the roadside, counting the stars on the horizon.
Live only for a friendship with the world.
A lamb/lamb
My father has a sheep with a crooked neck.
Hair as white as goose feather snow.
At that time, people were as docile as sheep.
When the snow falls from Lingziliang.
I'll never find that crooked-necked sheep again.
The meekness of sheep is gone.
Now, I am standing in the snow, standing on a sheep with a crooked neck.
Where I stand.