Quiet and deep night sky
moon
Draw a beautiful arc in the sky
Like a curved boat.
Swing in the silver night sky
Draw a map of the galaxy
Colorful soft light
The spiritual magpie brought thousands of branches and leaves.
Build a bridge with emotion and compassion.
String together a thousand-year-old acacia
People on the bridge
Hand in hand
Silent asphyxia
A thousand tears
The petals of happiness fall in my heart.
A night full of moonlight and stars
Brew a pot of acacia for yourself
Scissors of time
Carefully cut my thoughts out of my heart.
In an anxious wait
Waiting for eternal vows
Just to hug the magpie bridge tonight.
The beautiful grape trellis faded.
The moving tune is still melodious.
Comments: If the most unbearable pain for lovers in love is the pain of lovesickness, and the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl can only meet once a year, then according to our conventional reasoning, this kind of pain is even more unspeakable. This poem revolves around acacia and praises this painful love. Yes, this kind of love deserves our praise. In today's society, this kind of love is just a little bit. The author of this poem unfolded the whole poem with the most unusual brushwork, and the author's mastery of words can be said to be handy. Melodious words bring us back to that ancient era, and imagine the scene where cowherd and weaver girl meet at will. This poem has two shortcomings. First of all, the artistic conception is not developed enough, and it is a very single description. The second point is that there is no new concept in perspective. Chinese Valentine's Day has many problems to ponder, and learn from the past to see the present.
Qixi prose
Wen/Hua Festival
-:
torrential rain
Wash away the dust from the heart door
Low drop
See the footprints of peers
Two:
The rain stopped.
fallen leaves
Gently cover up the traces of going back and forth.
A moment ago, there was a parting without agreement.
Three:
In front of the window
The evening is very heavy
Half a white candle
The flickering light and shadow cast on the wall.
Four:
Breeze bursts
Flowing with poetry
Don't stare at it
All words have lost their luster.
Five:
Feel high/fluctuating.
As if calling from nature.
Wake up suddenly in hell
Write messy words on it.
Comments: Life is actually like a net, with one detail connected with another. Life is more like a book that you can't finish reading, sometimes you can't finish reading. We are just broken words. At first glance, this poem seems to have nothing to do with Qixi. In fact, this poem is about Tanabata, which is what I think, see and feel on Tanabata. (I gently covered up the traces of coming and going, and there was an agreed departure before that moment. ) the author borrowed the past to say today, and who can tell the mood at this time? This poem consists of five sections, all of which reveal the understanding of Qixi from different angles. The whole poem is eclectic, breaking away from the old writing method of Tanabata around legends, which is what poetry needs most now.
Lost mood
Text/Shan Ye Murakami
That pink rainy season
confused
I'm lost.
fervent passion
Until that quiet moonlit night
Fluorescent flash
I was surprised to find that
That dusty heart
Actually hidden in
In your diary.
A pang of bitterness
Your tears
splash
Paper symbols on my prisoners.
Comments: We are always easy to lose the direction of life and look for it in uneven years. What we lose most easily is not our body, but a beating heart. Why did you lose your fiery heart in a pink rainy season? What kind of rainy season is pink? Where is my heart? From the beginning, the author buried countless thoughts for us with color, and this kind of thought is irrational. (That dusty heart is actually hidden in your diary) So that heart is hidden in your diary? Who can hide my heart secretly? What kind of diary can fit into my heart? After reading this, the author gave us the answer, and countless thoughts followed. The last section seems to be scrawled. In fact, the author has solved all the problems. The pink rainy season is not actually composed of pink raindrops, but the brilliance reflected by the lover when he cries. Only my lover can hide my heart secretly, and only my lover's diary can hide my huge heart. The whole poem unfolds the scene in a guiding style, luring us to go deep into the central area to find the answer, and conceiving it with the childlike idea behind the strength of men, leaving us a bumper harvest after thinking.