Who can write some poems by Xiao Xu?

Chen's poems are all I can find.

It is said that there is also a poem called Island.

Unfortunately, I didn't find it.

Xiao Xu's ancient poems are very neat.

Modern poetry is also well written.

My favorite song is Untitled (if I die).

It feels like a desolate night.

Come to the lonely Xiaoxiang Pavilion.

Listen to the elegant singing of the crimson pearl fairy.

This song is full of sadness and helplessness about fate and reincarnation.

The Iraqis have passed away.

But that stubborn stone has to live alone in the world of mortals.

Perhaps this is how Baoyu felt when he mourned for his son.

Untitled

Published in 1988

If I die,

Have you lost some happiness?

for me

Will it make you sad?

In my opinion, stop.

At the brightly lit ball

Do you feel lonely?

In a lively conversation between friends

Will you keep silent in the corner?

On a sweet midsummer night

Do you feel a little cold?

On a snowy morning in winter

Do you feel lonely?

When the world forgets my name

Will you be in your heart?

Sing a song for me quietly

Sad song

I am a catkin (catkin)

This poem was written by Chen at the age of 14, and it was also her first published poem.

There is a saying that 1985, when the cast of A Dream of Red Mansions began to choose actors,

Chen took a picture of me as catkin and copied a poem on the back, which moved Wang Fulin to play Lin Daiyu.

Actually, it was 83 years.

The fact is also different from this statement.

At this time, Chen sent a heavy envelope.

There is a thick recommendation letter in it.

Two newspaper clippings (Chen's works)

A pictorial cover and some small photos from different angles.

The cover of Pictorial is Xiaoxu himself.

A slim and quiet girl caressed the braid on her chest.

Sit on the green lawn with one hand behind your back.

It looks so quiet and beautiful.

There seems to be a trace of melancholy between their brow. ...

Recommendation letters

Handsome and correct fonts are eye-catching, and the writing style is natural and smooth.

The poem in the newspaper clippings is an exercise she recently published in a magazine.

It is said that this is the first catkin.

Unfortunately, nothing was found in the envelope at that time.

It should be said that this poem is very unpretentious.

I am a catkin

Growing up in a beautiful spring,

Because my parents abandoned me prematurely,

Feng Chun and I became bosom friends.

I am a catkin,

Don't ask where my home is,

May the spring breeze blow me to the ends of the earth,

I want to bring the news of spring to the corner of the earth.

I am a catkin,

Born carefree, carefree,

My father is a vast sky,

My mother is a boundless land.

The three years in my dream are autumn.

This poem was written by Chen at the age of 15. It is said that the whole poem is a series, serialized in Young Poets. )

Because I am afraid that you will lose me in the bright crowd.

So I became so pale and weak.

Because there's so much to whisper to you.

So I can only be silent.

Because every bitter spring

Falling in love gently in my chest.

So my tears are drying up.

I don't know. tomorrow

Whether you are still insisting.

Like my diary when I was fifteen,

Save summer nights for dreams,

Leave your heart to love.

I'm waiting for you,

When the pale morning light outside the window,

Through my white curtains.

Me in the mirror,

It's compiled,

That thick braid.

And tied your favorite red ribbon.

We are also caught in the net of love,

Deeply entangled.

I finally got so close, so close to see,

Your eyes are full of tears.

For seventeen years old,

(This poem was written around the age of 23)

It suddenly occurs to me

A corner that has long been forgotten

Footprints covered with red dust

Seventeen-year-old dusty bookshelf and missed flower season

The memory of being wet by the rain is basked in the sun.

Maybe we shouldn't take it out to dry.

Let it be immersed in my heart forever.

There is a frozen moon hanging on the treetops.

It seems to wither overnight.

And she never gave up the branch.

Seventeen. Poor seventeen.

When did I become so cold?

Blow out seventeen candles in one breath.

Maybe I should be in my mind

Sew the other pocket.

Put all your seventeen-year-old dreams in.

That way, even if you travel alone in an uninhabited world,

I won't feel the slightest loneliness.

And now I can only go through Tomb-Sweeping Day.

Burning seventeen sandalwood

Dedicated to my seventeen-year-old

Pray that all dreams will meet in heaven.

Dianthus

(The time is probably the autumn of 199 1)

There is a crack in the empty heart,

Spring dew and autumn frost dye Tsing Yi.

The characteristics of the wind are immortal,

Stay with the world and write legends.

Untitled

(This poem was written by Chen Zai 1994)

I dreamed that I went.

Riding on a gray cloud

Across the dark and roaring sea

The desolate and silent coast stopped.

This is Wang Chuan.

There is no golden beach.

Without the whine of seabirds

No sunshine, no moon, no stars.

There is no green coconut grove.

There was no sound of the lake beating against the rocks.

There is not a trace of the wind blowing across the sea.

No breathing, no tears, no singing.

No lover's gentle eyes

I cried in my heart.

Forget Sichuan, there is no sound in this dead world.

No tears, no heartache

Only the soul of memory swims in the long night.

I think of the world I live in.

Dew in the morning, clouds in the evening.

The sound of midday sun and rain hitting the window lattice.

Then, I remembered love again.

Under the oath of the moon and the acquiescence of the eyes.

Tears of parting and red beans soaked with acacia

Then, I remembered the station again.

A slow-moving wheel will bring a smile.

Trembling goodbye, pale face disappeared in the window.

The red scarf fell on the black rail.

The whistle sounded and the smoke dispersed.

After the wheel ran over.

You only picked up a few pieces of red.

This is a terrible long dream.

It's dawn, and I'm still awake.

In my dream, I decided to wake up and go to Nanbawang Ancestral Temple.

There are bamboo forests, waterfalls and endless osmanthus flowers in the south.

And the shrill voice that lingers in the cave.

There are bright stars in the quiet canyon.

Like a pair of sincere eyes flashing in the sky.

orchid

This poem was provided by a relative of Chen and was written around 2006. )

Collecting dust in the valley,

The sky is full of clouds and shadows.

You don't need the wind to rush you,

The flower of freedom blooms quietly.

Marine mother

(Poems requested by reporters when Xiaoxu was filming in Hangzhou)

The sea ended a busy day,

Like a mother who has worked hard all day,

Close your eyes wearily under the caress of the sunset,

Tiny ripples sparkle with golden stars,

Like a mother's gentle smile ......

The sound of the waves gradually faded,

As if humming a moving lullaby,

Shh, relax,

Let's snuggle up in mom's arms,

Have a blue dream ......

Wu dialect

An incomprehensible life,

Just like a long-lasting famous drama,

Constantly repeating old themes with new images,

So I silently forgave,

All kinds of setbacks and abandonment in life,

Have a clear heart alone,

Believe in a kind of beauty from simple to extreme.

People are as light as chrysanthemums.

I am from Guanghan, and I am very lonely.

Pride does not flatter spring, preferring cool autumn.

Delicate and pale Qian Qian has a long heart.

Still soothing the silence of the boudoir, accompanied by a wisp of incense.

Sparrow

Stop, Xiao Yu,

Can't you see my mother is foraging for me?

If you wet your mother's wings;

She will fall into the cold rain.

Oh, mom, she's back,

Feathers with small raindrops;

I asked my mother if she was cold.

She smiled and fed the worm into my mouth.