A beautiful poem about snow. Memories of winter
So fascinated by the thickness of snow.
And spare no effort to brand the snow with time.
Continue to walk back on the road, and then walk back.
Look through every fallen leaf and erect a high winter.
Considering the cold and warmth, considering the station all the way as the starting point of fate.
In the car, know the curvature of a song.
Turn another corner and you will arrive at the southern town.
At this time, I heard snowflakes in the song.
Come to the wilderness every time. then
Leave my eighteen years old on the side of the road.
It was a huge winter, and I stepped on a thick page.
Write page by page.
Feed the sparrow.
I have been there several times.
Sprinkle the rice in your hand on the exposed windowsill.
The snow outside the window, the shape of rice grains is white.
Form horns with the white of the sky
The posture of sparrows crossing the sky
Like a black bolt of lightning. more
Like a stone, it hits the windowsill at the same time.
Hit my childhood. Mature eyes
It is love. One,Two,Three .....
Sparrows eat calmly and alert.
Raise my hand and put it down again.
Only when the sparrow leaves, will I walk into the windowsill.
Confess to me
Woman in the snow
I firmly believe that you belong to winter.
Take the idea and thought of winter as the height.
Touch the return date of a snow.
Long hair is redundant, and so is a hat.
The inner core of a coat, except for body temperature.
It's not redundant green mountains and green waters, birds and flowers.
It's all your upper body. Walking in the snow just to
Shake the snow off your body.
winter
Time will fade. Follow the edge of the day
Put out the flame and fulfill the autumn wish to the letter.
The way of docking. Along the coast, highlight the traces of burning
Water depth. Collision with another person while walking.
consequence
Nothing more than the surface of life and the arrival of snowflakes.
Stop for a moment. Hold the reed flower tightly in your palm.
Just like our flight, exactly the same.
Second, the winter of surging waves
thick hair
Cover the sun
Cover the spring
Afraid of cold wind
Dispel the warmth in my heart
Hungry and cold bags are filled with thoughts.
A heart
In the snow-covered fields
Staring at the tangled branches
cold
Ice lake hunters lurk in frozen water.
The ship comes back in autumn.
Quietly guarding the lonely harbor
The howling north wind
Shake the frozen mountains
Canglang
Howl at the sky with your head.
Interpreting the Language of Hunting and Round-up
Plan after plan.
White hair wisdom
Under the clutches of the surging waves.
Finish the package again and again.
Then form a panic attack.
Beautiful fight
This is actually a scam.
Clever plan
Is to sniff out your opponent's weaknesses.
Attack its weakness
Natural selection is a guide to survival.
Wolffy
A journey of 1000 miles
Battle of Wan Li
Walking in the mountains like a ghost
Sleepwalking on the grassland
Hunger and cold are no longer pain.
Suffering is the road to tomorrow.
ah
Canglang winter
Explain sadness with snow.
Canglang winter
Let the oath blowing in the wind.
clench/gnash/grit one's teeth
Stand on both legs
Shout at heaven
It's beautiful.
So sad
Totems on rock paintings
Branches and vines
The winding Yinshan mountain
ah
Canglang winter
Tragic horn
Echoed in the distance where the north wind roared.
ah
Canglang winter
A string of mysterious hoofprint.
Engraved in the wind and grass at home.
Third, shuttle in the winter morning.
Text/Wei
1
Oh, winter, your silent morning!
How can I praise your indifference?
Praise you for your fine features like a mountain stream?
And the eyes are empty and moving?
How can I not face the persimmon tree hanging in the sky?
Silent tears?
Those red and sad soft things.
Is it really a blessing of all the best?
2
Ah, winter morning
You cross the Grand Canyon at night and spread your cold and tragic wings.
In the evening or so, pick up the persimmon tree that is too soft to hold.
Wrap the desolate dream rock tightly and put it in a poor and inexplicable reason.
At night, the cold and emptiness continued to spread, and the body temperature of less than a gust of wind came from the corner of the canyon.
Wipe the red lanterns deep in the leaves.
Those angels who are thin and have lost moisture! Tilt your head.
Fall into a decisive lonely parting
three
On this winter morning.
The wind is telling the south the news from the north.
The coolness of the mountains and plains is calm enough.
Suppress the arrogance and barbarism in the body and awaken the deep sea of the soul.
The roaring sun
The vast Yuan Ye-endless wildfires
Blue stars are shining in the cold.
Splash a stream of consciousness!
four
Never nearsighted in the morning.
Black hair, blue eyes, golden jade.
Every ray of light can dry the cold last night.
The sky shines everywhere.
Shuttle through the winter morning
Oh, the sun is like a sail-it has risen and set off Lan Huo!
five
Good morning, your cold fate.
Silence shows those painful pictures.
The north wind stopped on the threshold last night.
A deep, sad voice coming from a desolate yard.
Smoke rose slowly this morning.
There is a faint smell of rice in the air gurgling under the eaves.
Should we thank fate or curse suffering?
Only the shuttle is looking for its solution.
six
Since this morning.
Separate from the crossroads and move in their respective directions.
Looking for Eden, windmills and rich mines.
In open sesame's voice, there are still ten thousand years to wait.
One day, we will start the caravan.
Passing through the intersection of this starting point
seven
The sun has a long history.
With an ancient gesture of infinite kindness.
Bend over, bend over. Pick up the cold in the world
Pick up the wandering soil and touch the weeds.
Warm the frozen seeds in your arms.
Look forward to spring and sow the hope of recovery.
eight
Shuttle through the winter morning
The growing cold makes the wilderness poetic.
A bird is looking for its home in the sky.
The song is weak, fresh, moving and desolate.
It has a distant heart and can't reach the present.
Empty, nowhere to stand.
Its courage and tragic, its blue sky and dreams.
Its clouds!
nine
On this cold morning
We walked on against the rising sun.
Practice distinguishing luminosity, chromaticity and one centimeter distance.
How repetitive and heterogeneous are busy people?
How selfish and exclusive are flowers?
Fragrance and delicacy are only open for the season, and there is no room for a trace of autumn coolness.
Wind and frost become destiny.
10
Go on, on this winter morning.
What can compare with the mood of the sun?
Thousands of chrysanthemums are blooming, and the earth is warm.
Just go ahead, face the wind and rain, face the thoroughness of chrysanthemums.
Out of Wanshan gold and Wanshan gold.
1 1
10,000 acres of orchards wake up in the morning.
The sound of dew dripping on trees.
The old farmer picked 10,000 tons of harvest fruit.
Walking on the road, the fruit is fragrant.
Tell people the good news this winter