The full text of Weiyang's poem "Overburning Village" is urgently needed.

Is this song right?

Think about your own pain.

It's a phoenix bird about to be buried.

Burning wings and feathers in smoke

Decomposition and fragmentation

Fall to the bottom of the corner

Away from the desolation of exile

The high pool is at dusk.

On the soft beach

Look, the geese have their own village.

Loneliness shines in the dark.

Rest in peace, my youth.

Think about growth again.

Youth drags a heavy body.

Soft fingers

Make public in the vast crowd

Too tired

A burst of consternation.

Entangled with eternal infatuation and confusion

I don't know where I am.

I don't know who my bosom friend is.

Escape from judgment, blindness

Eighteen-year-old declaration of love

At the crossroads, my cheeks are slightly hot.

Nineteen-year-old is keen on wandering and holding hands

Submerged in the bustling window of the city

Life changes at the age of twenty

Start learning to enjoy it.

I was sad everywhere that year.

young and frivolous

Hate hate

Now I suddenly look back

have nothing at all

Pianpianran

Rest in peace, my youth.

The sunshine is warm and the road ahead is long.

……

Gambling in life

In this gamble of life

Young me.

have nothing at all

You can only bet on youth.

Hold it down hard

At the gambling table

I will take part in juvenile gambling tomorrow.

That sounds so.

Don is ridiculous.

But in fact,

That's what I always do.

I already know.

There are only two endings.

Then my tomorrow will be brilliant.

Then I will have nothing.

Regardless of the outcome

I have no regrets.

What I can do now

Only wait

waiting time

Reveal this last point

final

gain and loss

miracle

A body.

Resist the pallor and indifference of the world.

Help-seeking eyes

Facing the wind mixed with tears

Is no longer the answer.

Chapped lips

And a mouth that caters to the public.

Wandering in the cold past

What kind of mentality is it?

Just to catch up with the trick of fate.

Do you often bow your head?

Can express goodwill more

What does this mean?

Someone is complaining about whose past.

Look at the ruins that seem to have desire in the distance

Brocade declined in the ruined court.

The gray sky will be

The mist dispersed everywhere.

Everyone's small talk

He didn't say a word

The hustle and bustle of all beings

But he didn't make a gesture.

Maybe, maybe impossible, maybe

It can't be possible. No way.

Possibility and impossibility are impossible and possible after all.

Stop tongue twister.

miracle

This bright scene

Profound and lasting

Broken porcelain

When that precious porcelain was broken to the ground.

You saw it.

Lost for a long time.

Then, you are eager to pick it up

But there are cold light shining debris everywhere.

Let your outstretched hand stop in the air

You must pick up the biggest piece of debris.

Look at it and touch it.

Or watch and feel.

You racked your brains to find a way to stick it on.

Restore the original appearance

But the debris looks at you coldly like many black holes.

You may not want to stick it on.

Pick up everything you can bit by bit.

But you will find that aggregation is full of destruction.

White becomes dirty, smooth and vulgar.

Smoothly beaten and cut by scars.

Still this? You dare not watch it again.

What is lost is lost forever.

It's not the same as before. Grab a cold heart.

The pain is rising bit by bit.

How you wish you could go back in time.

Hold it carefully and firmly in your hand.

But mistakes and mistakes are always difficult to predict.

How you wish it was just a dream.

You can wake up and everything will be the same.

But you will soon find out what cruelty means.

Finally, until the end

You have to take a broom and have a rest.

Sweep it out in sadness, helplessness and sigh.

lose

When the happiness and sadness in memory

In the end, it became a rock candy that children could not get.

Birds in the tree tell the wind.

I haven't seen Zhan Zhi's childhood for a long time.

Memories of leaves trembling when the wind blows.

The taste of green apples in the field is ripe.

Filled the whole season.

Grab the butterfly's arm

The promise of spring suddenly disappeared.

The harvest became dull.

Lost in the spring awakened by cuckoo.

A naive wild chrysanthemum

Lost in the sweet first spring breeze

I just looked it up for you online, but I don't think you have to buy a book ~ ~ Otherwise, I suggest you go to the local library to look for a poem with this theme, knowing that its title is usually easy to find ~ ~ You're welcome ~ ~ Look for it ~ ~ Hehe, you will find it! ! !