There are about 50 foreign short poems of 30 words.

Stray birds of Tagore 1 come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sign. stray bird sosummercometomoywindowsingandflyaway。 There is also the yellow avesoautumn, with songs, flutes and fallen flowers. Troupe of little vagrants of the world, please leave your footprints in my words. The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal. theworldputsofitsmaskofvastnesstoitslover。 It is the tears of the earth that keep her smile young. The boundless desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who shakes her head and flies away with a smile. If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you will also miss the stars. The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Are you willing to bear the burden of lameness? Your singing and your movements, dancing with water. willyucarrythburdenofthelameness？ Her eager face haunts my dreams like the rain at night. Once, we dreamed that we were strangers. When we wake up, we know that we love each other. Once a dream. Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening in the silent forest. Sadness calmed down in my heart. 1 1 Some invisible hands, such as an idle breeze, are playing the music in my heart. Some invisible fingers, like Anidridze, are playing on my heart. 12 "Seawater, what's your language?" "This is an eternal question." "What's your answer, sky?" "It's eternal silence." Osea, what language do you speak? The language of internal problems. Oscar, what language is the answer? Listen, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it loves you. Listen, my heart, it creates a mystery, just like the darkness at night-it is great. But the illusion of knowledge is like the fog in the morning. The process of creation is like the darkness at night-great. Don't let your love sit on a cliff just because it is high. I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes. Istatmywindowthismanengwhereworldikepasser-by topformoment, nodstomendges. 17 These micro (wind thoughts) are the rustling sound of leaves; They are whispering happily in my heart. thelittlethoughtsarethrustleofleaves； You can't see yourself, all you see is your own shadow. All you see is your shadow. God, my wish is stupid. They shout in your song. Let me hear it. My wish, my master. I can't choose the best. It's the best choice for me. icannotoosethebest . the best choosesme。