Ponds in winter,
Lonely as an old man's heart—
A painstaking effort that has experienced the world;
Ponds in winter,
As dry as an old man's eyes—
Worn by hard work;
Ponds in winter,
As barren as an old man's hair—
Hair is as thin and gray as frost grass.
Ponds in winter,
As gloomy as a sad old man—
An old man hunched his back under a gloomy sky.
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trolley
In the area where the Yellow River flows.
At the bottom of countless dry rivers
trolley
With a wheel
Make a harsh sound and shake the gloomy sky.
Bud overcame cold and silence.
From the foot of the mountain
To the foot of the mountain
Full of noise
The sorrow of the people in the northland
On a cold day
Between poor villages and small villages
trolley
With independent wheels
Deep rutting on the gray loess layer
Across the vast desert
From this road
Which way?
Weave with each other
The sad sun of the northern people
From the ancient tomb
From the dark ages
From the other side of the stream of human death
Shake the sleeping mountains
If the steam wheel flies over the sand dunes,
The sun is rolling towards me. ...
It's hard to hide the light.
Breathe life
Let tall trees and branches dance with it.
Let the river run to it with crazy songs
I heard it when it came.
Insect pupae that sting in winter are spinning underground.
The crowd spoke loudly in the clearing.
A distant city
Call it electricity and steel.
So my heart and chest
Torn by the hand of fire
A stale soul
Abandoned by the river
I have a firm belief in human regeneration.
Our class also engages in this kind of activity, saying that these poems are not bad and I recommend them to you.