Fall from another world
Frightened by the empty birds singing.
Or the spring thunder by the bed
From the invisible cocoon
Break free, still don't want to take it off.
Potential to be affirmed
If I were a mummy,
Turn my eyes slowly
Questioning the surrounding environment and memory.
Happy cycle.
Every time I go back to Sue, I'm not there.
Close your blind hands.
Poets write lyric poems about things II
Kissing is a miracle created by God.
No explanation or translation is needed.
The language of love is the oldest and the youngest.
Love words are the most implicit and direct.
It's so gentle
It's so powerful.
It is as charming and rotten as a spring flower.
Like lightning and thunder in summer.
Sometimes it is magnificent, sometimes it is trivial.
But more is ordinary and pure information.
When that moment happens to you
The mind will suddenly feel sublimated and pure.
Ah, life has eliminated one rule after another.
But we can't abandon this most primitive truth
Poets write lyric poems about things.
Exiled poet
Does this night belong to you?
Does this tender and sweet night endured by the newlyweds belong to you?
No, there is no moonlight, no flowers and no swans tonight.
My fingers are covered with drizzle and grass,
But even this rainy night is all yours?
Yes, they are all mine.
But don't think my love is full of plaques.
I get nutrients from the air and calcium from the sun.
My beard is like the hair of an arrow.
But my love is as shy as night.
Ah, your friend who has been talking to me since midnight.
Please pass me your slender fingers.
Poets write lyric poems about things.
Never experienced such soft sunshine.
Like a falling feather
Like a touch of love
Autumn is surprisingly quiet.
Apples are mysteriously frosted and have never experienced such soft sunshine.
Like a ship untied.
Like a rolling wool ball
The west wind blew the blue Yun Fan.
Maple leaves are secretly watching you, perhaps, pursuing wider than autumn.
Maybe happiness will come unexpectedly.
Nature, whenever your beauty is aroused.
There are 1000 harmonious voices in my head.
Poets write lyric poems about things.
Now it's like an underwater world,
Everything has settled and is silent.
Those dim branches,
Like corals in the sea.
The blue sky is slowly covered with smooth clouds.
Are silent waves;
There is only one ancient ivory ship,
Rowing on the sea of pearls
Pedestrians can't see each other's faces,
I only felt a glimpse,
Like a fish swimming in green water,