1, Miss Haizi
Haizi, I thought of you on the night of March.
In the moonlight, half a bottle fell to the ground.
Take phoenix tree as habitat and Liquan as drink.
You said that spring is a false proposition.
The last romanticism was strangled in infancy.
The legendary spring turned out to be fake.
Only poetry can last forever.
You drive a long car to a place where spring blossoms.
rush
The street was quiet. Wheat is packaged.
Disguised as colored banknotes
Someone else's bride
In March, the rainstorm suddenly came.
Tired people hold up umbrellas blown by the wind.
See you off and play an elegy for you.
Flute, fine into a road.
Those blue trousers melted into the sea.
Extend to the horizon, where the sea meets the sky.
A seagull, flying slowly.
Haizi, with fluttering robes and gray hair,
The soul runs all the way
Pass by Qu Yuan's Chu State and stay in Du Fu Caotang.
Haizi, who loves poetry, published a book of his own poems at his own expense.
It is said that this is the only good news in March.
2. The train roared by.
You live for poetry and die for others.
Twenty-four years ago today, you were lying on the tracks.
In the distance, the train rumbled.
Thud, thud, from far to near.
The sun shines brightly and wild flowers are in full bloom.
And you don't feel death at all.
Fear of the coming.
The train roared on the Yuan Ye in spring.
Bring up a cloud of black smoke and mess up your black hair.
Ride on you and fly away
Your cracked chest, gurgling blood
Red, orange sunset on the horizon.
The pain spread all over the earth.
Poetry at night
Penetrating life and death
be unfathomable/unpredictable/inscrutable
Haizi committed suicide by lying on the track,
news
Poetic shock
Step 3 restore
In March, the zombies of the empire came back to life in spring.
Haizi's soul
In spring, the village revived.
And a wheat field full of flowers
Bees dance butterfly, and he rides a bike.
A bicycle that rings everything except the bell.
Through the bustling business district, sexy streets
A string of wind chimes sounded among the flowers, and there were butterfly wings.
Skim over the cool mountain spring
4, the sunspot of the sun
Haizi, you are a farmer's son.
Lost my way in the dark
Once you grow up, you are not you.
Choose death without hesitation.
You can't tolerate betrayal
You are on the grassland of pain, holding
Mother walked across the ocean, and you
Immersed in winter, in love with death, unable to extricate themselves.
You are the sun of poetry, but I like it better.
You are the king of the night. You polish it with the blood of Chinese characters.
freckle
On a spring night, I
I can't see you.
Because, your poem is blocked.
My intestines, your Bodhisattva knows, I know, the river and the earth, the king and the sun, you are the humpback whale of the world. When the wheat fields and crops drift, the village can bury the dead and wander.
5. Go to heaven in peace
Haizi, I thought of you again tonight.
In the darkness, withered flowers bloom quietly and die peacefully.
Don't blame anyone.
You worship Van Gogh.
And you, like Van Gogh.
Take poetry as a life.
Everything is dedicated to the temple of God.
I know that the rails are ladders, the flowers in Shanhaiguan are quilts, and there are only poems and gods in heaven.
I saw the train that penetrated your body.
Black smoke obscured the sun.
I saw you smiling proudly in death.
I saw the gospel you left behind, and I love you immensely.
You're dead, I'm still alive.
You stabbed the whole human race, including yourself.
Haizi, I am in the wheat field
It was you who saw the burning sun in the middle and smiled at your stubborn head.
I know, you grow a lot of sunflowers here.
Behind him, is endless.
Rippling wheat
6, Haizi resurrection
In spring, ten Haizi are resurrected together.
In the scenery of flowers and shadows
Sing and dance together.
Let's drink together and sing poems together.
There are many wheat seedlings there.
A ridge that grows at night.
Sending out green flowers.
7.poisonous flowers
Your poetry is a lamp that illuminates the earth.
Easy to be blown away by the wind
Buried by foreign snow
This is your dedication to the earth, song of a mother.
At that time, you will leave.
Feel the grace of God, wash away the lead,
Chasing the dream
You are a poisonous flower.
Poison yourself, Bloom.
heart-broken;grieving
8. In spring, wake up from the crisp birdsong.
The door opened. Ye Er, a small tree, is on the windowsill on the sixth floor.
Whispering in a low voice, the stage was packed.
Lilac, here comes a bird.
Call one phone at a time.
Is it an evocation?
A sentimental poet, his soul is in.
Harbor of the soul
You said you were tired and wanted to have a rest.
You hide in the clouds and make faces.
The village woke up from a dream.
Wake up from the crisp sound of birds
The poetic sky is full of poetic flowers.
Baskets of various colors
Stuffed with small flowers of various colors.
9, weak water three thousand
Suddenly, a spring rain will bring cold spring.
Throw it into the distance
Touch the sadness of a city with your soul.
I bid farewell to a king with a poem.
White-inch shirts hanging on the windowsill.
Dancing in the wind like a cloud.
Go back to the world
Thousands of emotions can't bear that kind of pain.
It turned into a strong wind and a rainstorm in an instant.
drop
Blue sea and blue sky, weak water 3 thousand
10, spring blossoms.
In March, I saw Haizi sitting.
In the clouds, I met a wheat field.
That prone body
A new bud is growing.
In this spring season.
Be submerged by sea water
So, I wandered alone in this country of poetry.
Han Wa faced Qin Zhuan with vicissitudes of life.
In a clumsy manner.
Get close to sunshine, wheat fields and villages.
Happy to shout out the names of every river and every mountain.
Facing the Sea With Spring Blossoms
Beginning of Spring
Jiaozi is the ear of spring.
I gently bite out the pain of spring. On that day in beginning of spring, the peach blossoms in West Lake and Honghua Lake opened, and many people went to see them. I also go to see peach blossoms. Beginning of spring wrapped vegetables in dough and made spring rolls that day, so that everyone could share food and pray for peace. I bit the ear of spring with my big mouth, whipped the beginning of spring, the cow of spring, and then a breeze blew. I heard the sound of melting glaciers. The ice flood season has passed. Large glaciers have become the surging Yellow River, rolling along the Yangtze River and rushing for thousands of miles. The ploughshare is ringing. Start spring ploughing. Magpie goes to the field. The wild flowers beside the cow's hoof danced happily on the edge of the field, and the silver plow turned over, plowing out a sun and plowing out the farmers. I hope my father will hold the plow and shout loudly to let the white clouds on the cow's head pass under his feet. Behind him is a long poem, life is integrated with the green hills at sunrise and sunset, and swallows write down the news of spring at the dawn of the country.
Where peach blossoms, apricot blossoms, willow greens and rape blossoms, spring has come. Birds are singing and nesting in the trees. In the distance came the cuckoo's cry, grandparents, cutting wheat and transplanting rice. I read about spring in the song of birds in spring.