Modern poetry in my village

Rest on a leaf.

With the first wind in spring

Lying at the top of the tree

I use enough patience.

Waiting for a leaf

Extract tender buds

Let me take the TOEFL test

In the cradle of green.

Sleep in autumn

I often sleep.

Hear leaves and roots communicating.

When mothers and daughters whisper to each other.

I heard the sun falling on the leaves.

When it rains.

Contain feelings

The wind agitated the leaves of trees.

A thank-you ceremony with swaying leaves and frequent bows

Every morning or evening

I can hear all kinds of birds chirping.

Greetings from you.

I sleep on the leaves.

Birds' greetings covered me.

Flowers are in full bloom.

I wake up in autumn.

Sleep in the golden leaves

I saw a leaf put the sunshine accumulated in a summer.

Return to the sun with a brilliant positive film.

Like a mature woman to her mother.

Return with a smile

I'm awake.

The wind blew the sheets off my body.

I saw that leaf.

Scattered on the earth with thousands of fallen leaves.

I saw someone walk by.

A bird passed by.

Thick fallen leaves

keep quiet

I witnessed the life of a leaf.

It's like witnessing grandpa's life.

Perhaps, this will also be my life.

Sleepwalking village

I make tea under the night sky of the city.

Put a stainless steel pot.

On the stainless steel stove.

Who knows, the flame is excellent.

I overcooked a pot of tea.

Black tea juice

Chinese medicine as thick as grandma

Take a bite.

The astringent burnt taste is not as fragrant as tea.

But it smells of homesickness

I carry a cup of tea.

Thick and turbid

Like a village night.

I can't see my neighbor's lights.

I can't see the way home.

I am immersed in a cup of tea.

Like a farmer

Lost in the streets of the city

I struggled to finish the last sip of strong tea at the bottom of the cup.

A bitterness seeps from the outside of consciousness to the inner wall of the heart.

Crickets sing like a glass of high-purity alcohol.

I was drunk and hallucinated.

The edge of the city

I saw my village float in.

Someone is loitering on the path.

Someone abused at the entrance to the village.

The cry of a child is better than the cry of a lost lamb.

More worrying.

Some people even use the hand that once held the handle of a hoe.

Run like hell with a sharp knife.

Although the village is brightly lit

I can't see clearly what he is chasing.

Like a madman.

Chasing a wisp of wind, cursing endlessly

I got a cold shudder.

A gust of wind woke up the dream.

When I woke up, my village was gone.

My village has returned to its former tranquility.

Like a crazy and calm mother.

Kindness and sadness are like two springs.

A stream of water flowed from her left eye.

A stream of water flowed from her right eye.

Set out for a long journey

A book by Thoreau

Sealed bag

I can start.

When you look through the higher roof,

The fire of sunset burned the earth.

The noisy ashes of the city are floating in the wind.

A starry and quiet sky

Is there a light?

Flashing my will to travel far.

This is how sheep appear.

With the tenderness of collective baa baa.

Moved by one wild flower after another.

A land full of grasslands

Aunt who speaks Ewenki

Tame someone's head

Dirt all the clothes.

Naughty calf

Sunny

This beautiful morning

The shepherd boy's song came from a distance.

I'm going to find my dream river.

I wonder if she can tolerate me.

Load a small wooden boat

Put the life of fireworks in running water

If I meet the lucky guy on my hook,

Escaped catfish

Will it never forget?

The cruel game I played with it

Will it accept my sincere apology?

Wearing a beautiful bathing suit

Blow bubbles under the water.

Tell me the secret of a river.

I heard that rhubarb dog died.

This docile life

Once chased a frightened rabbit with me.

If I walk on the grass again

Will my sadness be affected by your eyes?

Gently melt

Like snow in the sun

Melt into a lifetime of purity

I'm going to a distant place.

Not to visit a strange paradise.

I just want to stay by the river.

Get close to the coolness of water again.

And can live in harmony with more different kinds of life.

Or, quietly miss.

Miss some dead lives.

A sheep, a dog, or some

High winds, high clouds

And noble things.

My village

There is my village in the deep mountains.

At the corner next to the village.

Every day, the Yellow River resounds in a low oratorio.

In the land of spring

The fathers solemnly sowed humble dreams.

Footprints of cattle, sheep and birds.

We see it every day.

The most beautiful seal in the country

Every one of them.

All show the tranquility and serenity of the village.

Sunflowers decorated the clothes in my village.

Buckwheat flowers are everywhere on the front beam.

There's Xiao Fang in a rag.

Put shy desire on love.

The pressure is on Sanwa who is herding cattle across the street.

The summer wind blows out the freshness of autumn.

The sorghum on the terrace will shake out a thriving sunrise.

The hare hid in the wheat field to enjoy the cool.

While pouring out a happy heart with my partner around me.

Whose back stretches on the mountain in the sunset?

My parents who collect crops.

It is the best hope of my village at this moment.

I once loved my village so much.

I'll still hide in the cracks in the wall.

A simple and honest face still has a partner's smile.

Grandma and grandpa's earth hole.

It is also located on a moonlit night.

at present

The village I once loved.

Only on the edge of memory, it is still full.

The fragrance of the four seasons.

Two years ago, I returned to my small village.

I can hardly bear to let my eyes wander around.

Because, the village I once loved deeply.

There is only one pair left.

Yellowing cheeks