Han Yan Yan Han Poetry Collection (Poetry Group)

April, the awakening of roots.

In April, the land of * * * is surging.

The original desire to combine with every seed.

I heard everything grow greedily.

The noise of flowers is about to disappear-

A new grave rises sadly in the wheat field.

Send you with tears in your eyes.

Deep soil dug by sorrow

Let your roots take root in the world.

Persist in an endless stream

Since then, in the ups and downs of the four seasons and the swaying depths of the grain,

Harvest your rebirth with mixed feelings of sadness and joy.

The wheat field in April is crying.

Loose and soft ...

My field of life has been plowed by death.

Deep ploughing in a closed furrow

Buried with the pain that I will never cry.

Something that sinks forever in pain—

Fault scale

recover

Is there a room like that?

As deep as a grave, as black.

As soon as you walk in—

It's like drinking and forgetting the water in Sichuan.

Forget everything in the world.

Forget the seals full of life experiences.

A paper contract, I can't control it myself.

A pair of paper shackles that can't be torn open

Go to the world with the determination of tombstone.

Close the door that refuses to be disturbed.

Want to shout, like a scourge.

Shouting to restore nudity.

Restored two nameless HarmonyOS system worlds.

Flint-

Be hit hard

Re-recognize

Autumn speech

I will wait for you on the hillside in my twilight years.

We couldn't be closer.

Two hearts almost penetrated the thin flesh.

Hug each other

Your heart hijacked by nothingness

Deep eye sockets are like a pair of empty bowls in a temple.

Quietly absorb my intensity.

I finally understand the fallen leaves falling on the earth.

Why does everyone have a quiet expression persuaded by years?

Fir tree holding up farewell hand

Destined to be tall and outstanding.

Higher than yourself—

That's it. I didn't say anything

sacrificial altar

As long as I think of that place, I promise.

Forever gesture

The midnight bell will gather and leave cool.

Traditional passwords are pouring out.

At this moment, my tears are still copying.

The blockage of that river.

Let me chew for a long time, shuttle movies.

The soldering iron of quotations burns on the wound of dreams

The taste of danger is more salty—

"It's warm there."

Thin clouds are coming towards you.

Bright red flag on the back.

Cut my chest again.

Burning inch by inch—

Such a high altar! No need to look up

The morning when the flame was born

In her heart

The steepness of the son of man, feeding

The connotation of castle

eve

The image of this moving group in the dark

Too big and too long.

The child fell asleep on the windowsill.

Doomed to miss a page of blood-

A chance to grow up in an instant.

I am ready to die.

High latitude Adam's apple peristalsis

Like the lead singer of the Death Band.

Those victims who have not expired

Like a batch of wine taken out of the cellar in advance.

Sigh that your taste is not the best.

Anyone standing on this threshold

Will be incomplete.

The woman was covered with a headscarf.

Recognizing the burning of the future—

As a hostage of memory

all one's life

Live with the portrait in the room ...

Belief after death

There will be a pair of orphan eyes open.

Name the weight of the world relics.

There will be dogs sniffing all the way.

Wandering in your empty space.

There will be a tree aimed at by starlight.

Continue to sing in the dark

There will be a horse that predicts heavy snow.

Repeat your silence in the wilderness of generations

There will be, there will be a bunch of wild daisies

Snuggle on the chest of the tombstone

Soothes your loneliness denuded by wind and rain

Why wait until after death to start believing?

courtyard

How generous the poor moonlight is.

Sprinkle it in the splendid courtyard

Children grow up quietly.

Grandma is alive, and the swallow holds the mud.

The firefly of memory is flashing.

The first tooth I lost

Moss that stings the years

Oh, the innocent courtyard is alive in time.

The dog barks softly, and Wells looks at the stars.

Happy tentacles of vines

Enter the dream ...

protective equipment

I run to you every day.

"Ben"

Endless slow motion in the mind

This daydream of painting cakes to satisfy hunger ...

I know, you are like me, every day.

Wandering on the edge of this dilemma

Every day, I am dying.

In an instant, the limit of patience-

Sadly, it has been stretched a little.

You, me: both trees are waiting silently.

Hold the tree of eternal distance! if

One day, two oak trees fell in love with each other.

Run to each other in the thunder and lightning.

Will the whole hillside collapse?

Will it lead to debris flow disaster?

Don't worry! In this world.

We are both prisoners and guards.

(I am destined to protect my life for life-

This extinct volcano, which is always insulated from riots)

We waited with the same patience.

That day, the fire of death.

Come on, put every bone

From the binding whole

Dissolve-

"Every bone should be free."

Ashes quiet last words, who can hear?