I. North and South
Affectionate south
Give me an ink painting.
Please allow me to hold an oil-paper umbrella.
Step on the stone steps of the Millennium
Turn to Gu Xiang.
My lover
My poem
Growing up in the drizzle in Jiangnan
There are villages in the north calling me.
There are old trees, old houses and rivers behind the village.
They chew the footprints of my youth day and night.
It hurts my wandering soul.
And dear relatives.
Twist out a long needle and thread from the depths of the fundus.
Fix me carefully
A wound caused by a missing blade.
Write to the south
Write to the north
It's just a piece of paper that holds up the horizon.
Let me spend half my life like a wild goose crossing the season.
With love and pain
Through flight measurement
With a huge singing voice
Play a poem
Sing from the south to the north
Second, the wind blows the wheat waves.
May wind
This is a sharp sickle.
Harvest my sadness
And the fire hidden inside
Let me despair
Through the vast wilderness
Into that generous embrace.
Wheat fields with golden waves
It's yearning
This is passion
It's burning hope.
It's the smell of new wheat that I miss all my life.
merry
Every full ear of wheat is calling me.
That voice is soft enough.
Enough to wrap the pain of my wandering for many years.
Let me safely take off the long scales close to my body.
Reach out your hand.
From a clean body
Take out colorful butterflies.
Keep the wings of life close to the wind and the waves of wheat
Fly leisurely
Third, pain and hope.
The blue night sky overflows.
My eyes still haven't recovered the happiness I want.
Theater auditorium lighting
All I have is a drifting river.
Work day and night
Put my black hair
Fall into the abyss of loneliness
Deep vegetation
Side by side with crops
I have to clear them one by one.
look
Glowworm with dewdrops
They sparkle.
Take me from darkness to dawn
Before dawn
I want to cross mountains and rivers.
Pick a few stars.
Give me a child born in the light.
My child is sleeping in the sun.
Peeking at beasts and fairy tales
Fourth, "there are beautiful women in the north"
There are beautiful women in the north,
Growth is at the beginning.
After the rain is hibiscus,
The wind blows plum blossoms.
The swaying willow,
A flower is leisurely.
But it's impolite to say,
How much ecstasy and hurt?
The dark vision of the wounded,
So much for hatred,
A few months ago,
Beautiful women linger in front of them.
A few days later,
Empathy and new love.
Begging is a promise,
Where is he?
For this woman,
I lost a lot of blood.
Tragedy and sadness,
Hatred is an inner change.
Before the root of the branch is broken,
How do you know that love is deep?
Beauty is in the north,
Cherish your feelings.
Jump up and turn around,
Leaving a wet and empty shadow.
Another storm,
Charming crisp bones and cold back!
But hibiscus and plum blossoms are fragrant,
Clouds float over willows,
In spring, the east wind blows warm and cold,
Look at the new branches.
How to treat sadness as a thing?
Let it go,
You are unique.
The beauty in the north is outstanding,
When the fragrance is fragrant,
Only Jiang Lang can accompany the bride.
More joyful!
Verb (abbreviation for verb) winter in the north
tree
Read you with seasonal eyes.
Blend the trees in the north into the square inch.
Let yourself shrink back in silence.
Shrink into tiles
Just to get close to the world of ink painting.
As if remembering.
Go back. Farmhouse. timber door
Air-dried corn cob on the eaves.
There are stories of parents in the picture. A northerner
Write down the rings of life with a tree.
magpie
Autumn is over. Say goodbye to the goose
In the gray sky, stay with the north.
Not afraid of cold. Under the cold eaves
Exclusive high support. Sing softly
My face lit up when I saw you.
Through the paper-cut on the window, jump in
In people's hearts. Spring Festival couplets with annual flavor.
Let the heart warm like spring.
first snow
Lightness. All right. Slowly descend
A scene like a dream. Open the white in winter.
Keep the notes close to your heart. In a place like this.
Romance in the docking scene
The distance is no longer far away. Let the long-lost worries
Don't wander in the lonely wasteland. We put the numbers
Throw it on the road. Footprint brush
Tick off the mark of the first snow.
Chinese plum
In fact, the streets of the city
I seldom see you. There is more outside the window.
It's conifers and old trees. Winter in the north
Lack of color
Through the snow, Xun Mei. On the winding path
In the corner of the rock. I saw it. ...
You have a brilliant smile. The branches are stained with Mei Duo's trees.
How much time can you look back?
Half a dust in the heart, walking in the fragrance.
Seven, the north, my north
All autumn, it's beautiful.
This is the ornament of this season.
Red pepper under the eaves
Make public the wind chimes in your eyes.
Standing on the ferry of the season
I watch it in series with words.
On the forehead of years, grazing
Love and thought
You can sit on the stump and daydream.
Heart, filled with the fragrance of wild flowers and crops.
Through my soybeans, my corn
My red sorghum
North, natural and unrestrained into oil painting.
Scenery with suitable colors.
My north
One of the simplest tree species
There is no graceful and restrained Jiangnan.
But simple, simple and kind.
My father and brother.
The man's name is rough and bold.
I don't know how to praise my father day after day.
But bare back every day.
Ignite hope on the black land
My sister
That's suona blowing in.
A woman infected by laughter.
Have a pair of eyes
Writing filial piety and love
I think I should.
Is it dandelion released from her arms?
Otherwise, why my body?
It always exudes a faint earthy fragrance.
Shake a string of local accents
Acacia is in a dream.
Pour a whistle. Whose pen is it?
Aromas of soybeans, corn and red sorghum.
North, my north.
Let me do it.
Crawling through your long nostalgia
Take a dream trip
Whether you leave or arrive, you are the soul.
The most extravagant warmth