Beautiful things
Come back and tell me
The breeze has ripened the ears of wheat
The ground has made a bed, and the sky floats
Catkins.
My wife prepared hot soup
A word crashed into the house
Changed the beauty of the world
As soon as you came back, you came to me
But my body bones are already thin
With the east wind, I am eight points drunk
I will sleep with my clothes on while leaving two points of cheating heart
This night The rain has knocked on my window again
This night the rain and my lover have been knocking on me for forty years
These beautiful things are also blended into old age
When the wheat can no longer be moved, write it into a poem
When the sheep have wandered far away, ask about its hometown
I can only give you half of my pounding heart
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I will pound the past into honey and give you half of it
I will also give you spring lakes and rainwater
I drink a bowl of porridge in the early morning in my hometown
Chatting about family affairs with the mother who got up early
Talking about a night breeze bathing in the 1980s
A woman shouted out a bolt of lightning in pain
I want to tell you another beautiful thing
The heart of a tired bird, the belly of the sunset
The tree is close to the moon, and the child is sleeping close to me
I I can only be close to your nickname
Hold on to the past
Written on 2020/3/31