Bing Xin's Modern Poetry 1 —— The Last Meeting with Ye Lao
A few years ago, the old man Sheng Tao invited me to his house to enjoy the begonia flowers. But every year, when it was time to enjoy the flowers, either Elymus was unwell or I was ill. It was not until last spring that I practiced the agreement to see the flowers.
It was sunny that day, and the DPP Central Committee sent two cars and a comrade to take my daughter and me (because they have been living with me) back to Ye's hometown. My son-in-law Chen Shu brought a video recorder and my grandson Chen Gang brought a camera. We got on the bus together excitedly.
At the door of Ye's house, comrades have already greeted him at the door. I helped the walker to enter the outer courtyard of this spacious and tidy courtyard, and then entered the inner courtyard. Elymus has stood up from the snow-white begonia tree with a big smile on her face. The old man is in good spirits. We shook hands tightly, then looked up at the flowers and bowed their heads to talk. At this time, the video recorder and camera were busy, but the daughter danced lightly and picked up a little curly black dog next to Ye Lao, stroking it, and said with a smile, "This puppy is really good."
We entered the hall from under the flowers, the room was tastefully decorated, and there were paintings and calligraphy in the partition frame of the house. I haven't seen such an exquisite real Beijing quadrangle for many times!
Shan Zhi pointed to the photo of Mrs. Ye on the wall of Ye Lao's spacious bedroom and said, "This was taken seven months after they got married." I smiled and said to Shan Zhi, "You weren't there then!" Everyone laughed.
How time flies! I gave Ye Lao a small rose basket I brought, and Ye Lao also gave me a beautiful little black bottle with three yellow tulips in it.
On the way home, I looked out of the car with that little bottle of courage, as if Beijing was full of cheerful people!
Bing Xin's modern poem 2 "Selling Flowers"
Looking up at Jinggangshan,
The running water gurgles,
The giant waved to the white clouds.
Swallows fly low and want rain.
Don't sign the saddle.
Hundreds of battles are still going on,
I'm afraid it's difficult.
Bear, tiger, leopard, etc.
Arouse the global proletarians,
* * * The more powerful it is.
Bing Xin's modern poem 3 "Flower of Success"
The flower of success,
People only admire her talent now!
However, at the beginning, her bud,
Soaked with tears of struggle,
The blood rain of sacrifice is scattered everywhere.
Green shoots
Green shoots,
The young man said:
"Develop yourself!"
Pale white flowers,
The young man said:
"Contribute yourself!"
Deep red fruit,
The young man said:
"Sacrifice yourself!"
Bing Xin's modern poem 4 "Dawn"
Yan Jing's world, brilliant world-
It's dawn. Who feels I'm awake?
God, in your quiet light,
I have peace of mind, I have peace of mind.
I want to eulogize.
Attention, you should wake up.
Get up and praise the Lord.
Chin, chin, it's time to wake up.
Get up and praise the Lord.
At dawn,
Who feels I'm awake? Amen.
Bing Xin's modern poem 5 "Morning"
Guang Xiao collapsed,
It's very bright at customs.
My heart is like a bird flying in the wind.
Fly over the horizon, fly to the North Pole,
The horizon and the sea are full of your love.
Jesus Christ. Your love follows me,
Your fingers lead me,
Your right hand will support me,
My heart is like a bird flying in the wind.
Flying high in the wind is inseparable from infinite love. Amen.
Bing Xin's modern poem 6 "Who Is He"
The cream is running out.
There is only a circle of shadows left.
The branch is hurt,
There were only a few groans left,
Blow out those that don't shine,
If it doesn't bloom, break it.
Jesus Christ.
"The injured reed, he didn't break.
He won't blow out the broken lamp. "
Our light-his love,
Never ending, amen.
Bing Xin's modern poem 7 "Dusk"
Jesus Christ.
Infinite wisdom,
Infinite mystery,
Who knows?
Is that me? Is that him?
Neither,
Except that you showed him out of the light,
Jesus Christ.
Show me in the light,
It also shows the infinite him in the universe, amen.
Bing Xin's modern poem 8 Midnight
Jesus Christ. You arranged this silent world.
Under the starlight, the sound of leaves
I heard what you said.
Where are you, where is the universe, and where are people?
God is the god of love,
The universe is the universe of love.
Is anybody there?
Jesus Christ. I thank you,
Because you taught me, amen.