aluminium powder
Since the rise of the earth,
The height you climbed.
Where my arms can't reach.
Oh, silver,
Higher than my arm,
You are presented to us in great numbers;
No flowers can bloom.
As firm as snow-white leaves
No flower can escape from that precious silver.
Separating out silver;
Oh, snow-white pear trees,
What's on your branch?
Prosperous
Combine summer and ripe fruit.
Their purple hearts.
2. Xue Lian, Ai Qing
Spring breeze can't blow here,
Swallows won't come-
Not afraid of falling off a cliff,
See your talent.
The embodiment of ice and snow:
White, beautiful and generous,
Without strong love for you,
I can't smell your fragrance.
3. Qi, author Xi Murong
The stream longs to flow to the ocean,
The tide is eager to return to land.
In front of the hedge with green trees and white flowers,
I waved goodbye so easily.
After 20 years of changes,
Our souls come back every night,
When the breeze blows,
It became a garden full of fragrance. ?
4. The tree by the window was frosted
The tree by my window, the tree by my window,
When night falls, I close the window;
But don't draw the curtains,
So as not to separate you from me.
You are a hazy dream shadow rising on the ground,
You are as erratic as a cloud,
Everything you preach loudly with your light tongue,
Not everything makes sense.
But tree, I saw the wind shaking you.
If you catch a glimpse of me sleeping in this room,
You'll see that I'm being stirred violently,
Almost swept by the storm.
The fate of that day is due to its playfulness,
Linking the two of us together:
You are influenced by the external climate,
And I am the inner wind and rain.
5. Tagore's Banyan Tree
Hey, that furry banyan tree you're standing by the pool,
Have you forgotten that child,
Like the bird that built its nest on your branch and left you?
You don't remember how he sat by the window,
Looking at your tangled roots deep underground in surprise?
Women often go to the swimming pool,
In exchange for a jar full of water,
Your big shadow will shake on the water,
Like a sleeping person struggling to wake up.
The sunshine dances in the microwave oven,
It seems that endless shuttle is weaving a golden brocade.
Two ducks are next to reeds,
Swimming in the shadow of reeds,
The child sat there quietly thinking.
He wants to be the wind,
Blowing through your rustling branches;
Want to be your shadow,
On the water, it grows with the sun;
Want to be a bird, perching on your highest branch;
I also want to be those two ducks, swimming between reeds and shadows.