You are waiting.
I'm waiting, too
You are waiting for an old dream.
I'm waiting for a feeling of life.
but
You've been waiting
Premature at the gate of 6700.
I've been waiting all my life.
Burning in the release of your great dream
The pylorus of hell is open.
The light shines into your mysterious castle.
wake up
Traces of smoke in the kitchen
Bamboo poles and fishing nets sleeping at the bottom of the river
Covered by years of dust and dust
Pottery, ridges, canals
Dark dreams built by rammers from generation to generation
Ancient souls in urban tombs
The dusty ideal of rice
A spectacular accumulation of frost, snow and rain.
Thoughts on wood grain seal cutting
Mao Ge's unfamiliar and bloody style.
Every cell in the ancient city
They started.
Different sleeping positions
Asking about strange and turbulent eye waves
Guess the purpose of the uninvited guest
Refuse to look a little surprised.
I saw the sculpture of time in them.
Of course, I also guessed them.
Maybe it's hard to wait for this day.
Worship in the sun
Good wishes rise again in the ancient arms.
Someone picked up yesterday's glass.
Invite me to a thatched gazebo.
Drink the wine made of ancient rice together.
Hot pot and delicious food in the pot
Cook in a curved bean bowl
Autumn wind dance wine flag
Rolling in a swaying cup.
The wine penetrated my cells.
Surging out of a mirage.
Yes/yes
Dogs and dolphins are red-eyed for a bone.
Sheep and deer are singing on the misty Yuan Ye.
Cock to greet the morning sun
Lead the sunset glow to the boudoir.
On the railing of the opposite bamboo building.
Leaning against the beautiful image in the distance
Kiss from a rose from the west wind.
Shame messed up the pink cheeks of flowers.
Night falls from the wilderness with mountains.
It's getting closer. The sound of lifting wood
Fishing songs in the moonlight
Accompanied by the rhythm of wood pulp
Of course it's quiet.
The noise of the surrounding cities.
Play in the rice fields
one by one
Fishermen, farmers, soil owners, loggers
Sit at the same table with me again
The little guy looked at the beak and suggested it drink water.
A drunken scene.
Make public my heart and soul
I saw it. ...
In the countryside
The veil cast by the moon
Years on the beach
Deep and shallow footprints
An altar filled with incense
Confusion planted by the soul
Abundant moat surface
Ripples of tears
Long arms surround the same wall.
Years of mottled facial makeup
In the glorious oath of bronze
Powerful and tragic lyrics
Inch-by-inch loam slate
Classic of depth lock
Chengtoushan is a wordless gobbledygook.
That endless page number
Countless roles
Unexplained meaning
Fascinated me in her arms.
When a ray of light opens my eyes
But found
I'm crawling in a tunnel that crosses the past and the present.
Come out of the hole where the sun enters.
* * * and grand plans.
Depicted on her spine
A fluttering red scarf
Dancing on her thick breasts
March on the New Great Wall
How many people sing loudly?
So what?
Chengtoushan is drunk.
I was drunk, too.
We are drunk together in today's waiting.
Shape time with lofty dreams.
The modern poem we are waiting for 2 I was at some time in a certain year.
Give up a feeling that was once beautiful but never belonged to me.
Give up someone who is good to me but will never be by my side.
I gave up a dream that I wanted but couldn't really realize.
Then the rest of my life is my stubbornness and a lot of inexplicable sentimentality.
Think back to my old life.
Days of our lives, which was once considered beautiful.
Maybe it's just an imaginary enemy of mine.
When I have nothing,
I just see very clearly:
The so-called feelings, the so-called people around us, and the so-called dreams are all just because they are fragile and need to rely on.
And when all this or when I have another dependence, I don't need it.
I didn't care about that feeling, that person, that dream.
I care about myself.
It should be calm now, right
Because of feelings, because of people, because of dreams.
It's just your emotions and feelings at the moment.
No, I gave up.
It doesn't matter anymore, or it's not what I said I needed.
And yours, including mine.
Waiting-our own waiting
Like I always say, be happy.
I always believe that giving up is only my own behavior, and others will not.
So be happy if you can.
Because we have too little, we can catch too little.
Wait-yours, mine and ours.