Author: A poem written by Jing M.Guo to Jay Chou
It was a day that I dreamed of a long time ago
The whistle sharpened into a background and cheers became a halo
Basketball with a quiet left hand and an infinite future with a right hand
This is it
In the distant past, I heard them. Performing the most perfect slam dunk
The opening picture is always frozen in the first chapter of memory
The outline carved by the light is developed in the suffocating silence
Then the wind will blow the ink into the universe in the long galaxy of thousands of years
Solidified into the slow-moving farewell songs and divine comedy, which count down.
you must have heard the countdown that flows dully through the black cloud top.
those sighing yesterdays.
Confrontation with glory and loneliness and sharp confrontation
Confrontation with geniality
Confrontation with pallor and silence and long confrontation
Confrontation with consumption
Those loud noises in my heart
Like explosions like mushroom clouds on the moon, the mountains fell apart and all the sounds were silent
, A short mirror as long as a century
Three Wan Li
Floating red sun, looking back for thousands of years, signing a white sign, Zhu Yanzi
Leaning against the fence, causing sorrow, making mistakes, causing flowers and leaves to fall
Distant lights are silent and bright
After years on earth, it turns into a pair of people who will return to dust after a hundred years of exposure to water
The blue beauty is cold with the dream pillow and tears, and the autumn wind is deep
The courtyard is cold and rainy, and lonely. Warm ink marks
the law of ancient songs and yellow sand hidden in the north of Mobei
If there is a sudden afterlife in this life, I will remember myself
Warm bed and cold iron clothes
The light will warm the fog, and the city will wake up in pieces in the morning
The noise will be scattered like running water, and sirens will float across the vast river
The remembered teenagers will quickly pass through the winter morning
It will be preserved in the darkness.
Disappeared in loneliness
The cold reshapes the bones, and the wind and snow brighten the rusty chest
You are still standing on the hill that others look up to
Pines and cypresses are dotted with green
Snow piles up into dreams
The long sigh under the wings
You were in the center of the world
You were behind the sound
You used to feel with your soul.
those voices from the end of the universe
are hymns of ink and light
not many years have passed
but the wind and frost have also passed overhead
in the silent sight of each other
the blood flowing slowly is silent and boiling
I grew up from your figure
chapters and sentences, Solidified by time in the form of ink
You are thousands of miles away, you are in Suzaku Copper Terrace
You are in a distance that my eyes and words can't reach
I think about poetry with words.
The light is heavily postmarked.
How to define the sadness in the hustle and bustle or the loneliness painted on my back after the show
At the moment, the familiar years of sunlight and running water are fragrant in the air
Those summer mornings.
Young memories are shining specimens
Your eyes, your breath
Walk with loneliness, walk with darkness and walk with emptiness
These are medals
The pallor of dialogue is swallowed up in darkness
Only your standing posture remains firm
That's the creeping roots under your feet
Hold on to the world firmly
You are not a lonely floating in the universe. Noisy can't compare with silence
At some moments, people can't compare with the boundless sea
At such moments, many sounds exploded on the eardrum
I saw those flashes. I also saw the dark corners behind those flashes.
I heard all kinds of voices.
They are telling me-colorful poems or black-and-white honors
So, this is the end-
along the way.
you have come from the end of the world, so you will eventually go to the end of the world.
In a chessboard-like world, you slowly crisscross the universe.
the sound and picture are frozen in the explosion at the last second.
Tears mixed with dreams rolled and evaporated towards the sky.
then, here it is.
What people spread-
The chirping left in the sky
Poems sung on the earth
It is a declaration of loneliness and pride, and it is a praise of ink and light.