forefinger
When cobwebs mercilessly sealed my stove.
When the smoke of ashes sighs the sorrow of poverty
I still stubbornly smooth away the ashes of disappointment.
Write with beautiful snowflakes: believe in the future.
When my purple grapes turn into dew in late autumn
When my flowers snuggle up to other people's feelings
I still stubbornly use frosted vines.
Write on the desolate land: believe in the future.
I want to use my fingers to stir the waves that rush to the horizon.
I want to hold the sun in my hand.
The warm and beautiful pen flickers with the dawn.
Write with a child's pen: believe in the future.
I believe in the future.
Yes, I believe that people's eyes in the future
She brushed away the eyelashes of history.
She has a student who can read through the years.
No matter what people think of our rotting bodies.
Those lost blues, the pain of failure.
It was tears of emotion and deep sympathy.
Or give a contemptuous smile and bitter ridicule?
I firmly believe that people are interested in our spine.
Countless explorations, lost ways, failures and successes.
I will definitely give a warm, objective and fair evaluation.
Yes, I am anxiously waiting for their comments.
Friends, believe in the future.
Believe in indomitable efforts
Young people who believe in overcoming death.
Believe in the future and love life.
This is a poem for Susan ... if you want to travel to the far north?
Give up my decision to go to the south.
You will go to that boundless city.
After all, I have the heart to follow.
How time flies.
We may not be together.
I want to cherish this feeling.
Until the memory turns to ashes
Would you like to go with me?
Walking through the venue, my heart is filled with endless worries.
Leave all the resentment in the world behind.
Grow up in impermanence
Come with me, will you?
Don't let your mind struggle in the cold wind.
Follow me, you won't be afraid.
Create that warm home together ... 6 classic poems ... I have a hunch that I will wander along the railway tracks. Two tracks, a thousand tears. When the wind blows, it sleeps quietly in the warm embrace of the earth. It's almost dawn. Inextricably linked melancholy, rolling and tangled in this thick night sky; There were holes everywhere, and Gauss circled and disappeared on this dark green earth. Follow her, like the wind. Where will you go on such a sad night? Which way would you choose? You should follow the wind. The blue moon also pursues the wind direction. In the distance, that cloud ...