Modern Prose Poems about Missing Hometown Part I: Hometown Complex Can't Forget the New Artemisia in the West.
I can't forget the aquatic plants in the pond.
I can't forget the smoke on the roof.
I can't forget the green jujube tree in the yard.
Like to listen to the village entrance? Woof woof woof? The dog howled.
Like listening to the kitchen? Meow? The cat meows.
Like listening to the nest? Giggle eggs? The cock crowed.
Do you like listening to the dawn? Whoa, whoa, whoa dawn
The rice wine brewed by elder sister-in-law is mellow.
Erhei's married daughter-in-law is handsome.
Sanyazi made a fortune in the mountains.
The voice of the fourth aunt fills the air at the scene.
A good harvest of grain is the greatest omen.
All six parents agree that it is harmonious and kind.
The seven-point comity is the villagers.
Eight-sided gongs and drums, pastoral poetry.
There is the most lively Lantern Festival.
There are the most delicious dishes there.
There is the strongest dialect there.
There are the kindest and youngest children there.
My hometown is Hu Qin.
My hometown is bamboo flute.
My hometown is that family dinner.
My hometown is so noisy.
Come to Wan Li for thousands of miles.
Often appear in songs and dreams.
Travel everywhere.
Who doesn't praise his hometown?
Modern Prose Poems Missing Hometown Part II: Hometown is used to waiting for the night,
The sunset in the evening is particularly charming.
Sunset brings thoughts.
Think of the past,
Occupy my whole heart.
A long time ago, I remembered your face,
Like a waterfall of tears,
All over the world.
The road we used to walk together,
I can't avoid this familiarity,
So far away,
Walking alone on an extremely traumatic road,
Memories of the footprints left,
Memories of the prodigal son's return.
Watching you for years,
There is always a feeling of blood boiling in my mood.
Left a memory?
My hometown
Modern Prose Poems Missing Hometown Part III: Hometown, Hometown, Hometown, Hometown
You are a silent landscape on the loess high slope.
You are the land cultivated by Ziwuling for thousands of years.
Deep in the verdant Qinling Mountains
The river you gave birth to runs endlessly.
Raising plateau children with strong bones
No matter where you travel, you are rich or poor.
Hold you into handfuls of sweet sugar.
Hometown, hometown
You are a local drama full of gratitude and resentment.
You are a Shaanxi opera floating in the ditch.
Tell me in a resentful voice
It is the joys and sorrows of talented people and beautiful women.
It is a strongman who can be a minister.
A word-for-word rap
There is endless love and hate in the world.
Can't sing the endless twists and turns of life.
Hometown, hometown
You are the shoulder pole on dad's shoulder.
You are the plowshare of the villagers to cultivate the land.
This pole carries fertilizer from fertile land.
This land produces nutritious crops.
In the hard work of generation after generation
There is no effort to make their children rich.
Instead, it cultivated the humble stubbornness of farmers.
Hometown, hometown
You are a lattice window frame covered with window grilles.
You are the steamed bread on the stove.
Wotou has lasted for generations.
Window grilles make your children yearn for the distance.
Longing for distant children to get out of the yellow land
Wandering between cities
Stumbling on the road to survival
Hometown, hometown
You are a wandering shoe with thousands of shoes.
You are the embroidered sachet around a lady's waist.
Qian Qian's ten thousand soles are stained with the soil of his hometown.
Embroidered sachets have the flavor of hometown.
In the struggle of living in a distant hometown
When writing the chapter of life
Never get rid of the light of the Loess Plateau.
Hometown, hometown
You are a dry cigarette floating in my father's ashtray.
You are mother's endless tears.
Dry smoke wafts the warmth of my hometown.
Tears flowed from the mother's concern for the wanderer.
In thousands of looks.
The wrinkles on my father's face piled up.
Mother's white hair is melancholy in the wind.
Hometown, hometown
You are a pulley in a wandering heart.
Near the end of the year, you are a touch of heart-wrenching pain
The rope that turns the pulley affects the soul of the wanderer.
The bright moon that illuminates the well also illuminates the way home.
Children in other places touch their chests and ask themselves.
When did you feel the warmth of your hometown?
When can I see my white-haired mother?
Modern Prose Poems Missing My Hometown Part IV: The drizzle in my hometown is drizzling in the north.
Soft boneless texture
Fall into the eyes of homesick people
Silky influence
Lonely mood
Through the thin face of my hometown
Across the yellowed wheat fields
Prediction matures in drift.
Approaching the harvest season
Cactus in the corner
Yellow flowers in full bloom
Is about to drip brightly.
Indifferent and withdrawn
Unrealistic expectations
The breeding of madness
Much like the drizzle in the south of the Yangtze River.
The story of wandering around the world
Leisure and solemnity
Betrayal and rebirth
Looking forward to Jiangnan
Worried about the idea of the north
Until the same Mao Mao rain falls in the north.
In my hometown
Think about foreign land.
In a foreign land