After a long separation, return to your hometown.
Lip prints of bustling cities
Left on a lonely and thin mountain road.
Or a winding river.
Rows of immortal memories stand on the banks of the river.
It's the same old tree that was stripped naked.
The shadow of my childhood crouched under the tree.
Or that lush bamboo forest
There is no innocence left by years in the bamboo forest.
I cut my soul in half.
Half of them wander around with their dreams.
Half of them stayed under the eaves to meditate.
Go home again and feel again.
The words of the local accent, the lines of tears.
I fell to the ground laughing.
The story of barefoot
Greetings, warm waves
Simply put, a cylinder is boiling.
Emotion that can burn bleeding bubbles
I'm going home again, and I'm sad again
Childhood playmates.
Now their temples are covered with spots.
Holding a rough hand is like holding it.
Carrying a heavy load, the sadness in the bowl is beyond words.
It's okay now! Neighbors say
The eyes reveal a sense of satisfaction that I have never felt before.
Back home, I still linger.
Dig a hoe and bury my heart in it
Naked blood of ancestors
Writing Modern Poetry of Hometown 2 Impression of Hometown
(hometown)
My hometown is a clear spring.
Clean, cool and soft
There is no noise and turbidity of the city.
Only high blue sky and pure white clouds.
Only the tree-lined mountains embrace the village.
Only winding rivers surround the earth.
Everything is so calm.
(home page)
Red brick, gray roof, simple bungalow
In the yard, some old longan trees.
Several sturdy pomegranate trees
A flock of chickens and ducks chattering, quacking and singing.
And an honest little black dog.
In the morning, the rooster crows.
In the evening, the smoke curled up.
Everything is so harmonious.
(father)
My hair is gray, but my body is also tough.
With a big axe, the dry wood was split in half.
Sometimes, squatting by the door.
Holding an equally old chimney.
Smoke loudly and loudly.
The thick smoke took the little black dog away.
Scared away the chicks looking for food.
Everything is so simple.
Miss my hometown
I fell asleep quietly this summer.
Empty songs convey a little nostalgia.
Peace of mind returned to the story.
I can't find flowers that make butterflies fly in my hometown.
The dog's tail grass is swaying in the sun.
Don't worry about you anymore.
Do you remember what we look like?
There are shadows on the walls there.
Yes, we are not tired.
We hold time in our hands, and then we scatter it.
Not far from you, only a few decades.
We are scattered all over the world.
Can you still find that old smell?
Deep-rooted soil stinks everywhere.
Walking on the cement road in a foreign country, growing and trudging.
Are you hard, too?
Loose moss on the roof still looks like our eyes.
Approaching slowly
It is that we miss our hometown.
go home
Inscription:
There are two roads in the forest, with few passers-by.
I chose this road alone, but the situation is different.
Yi nationality's childhood countryside
The soil gives off a faint fragrance.
Bright red flowers, green weeds
The cock with its wings spread is playing by the roadside.
Comfortable and quiet
A narrow river.
Shallow, with fish shadows and golden light.
Several women are washing clothes with a smile.
Uncle in a hat
Start the roaring motor
Sail that ship.
Irrigation of farmland on both sides of the river
It turns out that this is life.
Primitive and natural country life
Have long been forgotten
So far away from us, so far away.
I seem to see some children.
Fighting on the ridge.
Go back to childhood, go back to childhood.
hometown
In childhood
My hometown
Prison hill-
the many
Adobe house.
Walk along a muddy path
Looking at the lucky figure of adults.
Always fantasizing about one day in the future
Leave this poor village
realize one's dream
When I grow up
have a dream
Come to the far south
Facing the bustling world
Work hard
At the mall
Roll bar
Accumulate the energy of life
at present
When I have a little savings
Go back to my hometown I haven't seen for years.
The muddy path turned into a cement road.
The thatched cottage turned into a villa.
This poor village has taken on a new look.
Laoshan Mountain
Become almost unrecognizable
I suddenly woke up.
My roots are in my hometown.
This is where I was born and raised.
Make my hometown richer.
Is my real ideal.
My hometown made me burst into tears.
When I was very young, I liked to climb mountains in my hometown.
The mountains are densely forested with birds and flowers.
On the top of the hill
Buildings in the sea of clouds.
That's the place I yearn for
That's the paradise in my dream.
My mother often tells me.
Study hard and you will be able to climb that tall building.
Study hard and you can live in heaven.
For that childish dream in my heart.
I always bury myself in my studies until late at night.
I can always dream that I am walking in a building in my dream.
Ah, this is heaven.
There is no chance to climb the mountain when you leave home.
I can't forget the mountain in my dream.
The mountains are high and the forests are dense, and birds are singing and flowers are fragrant.
Always eager to stand on the steep rocks at the top of the mountain
Look at the infinitely beautiful scenery in my hometown.
That's where I live.
Full of childhood.
Mom wrote it.
The trees in the mountains were cut down.
The birds in the mountains have flown away.
I always don't believe what my mother says.
I always want to go back to my hometown in my dreams.
It is my dream to go home and have a look.
Ah, look at this charming scenery.
On the way home, I really want to embrace the green mountains and green waters.
Describe the birds and flowers in my hometown with my son.
Walk into the small village I miss very much.
The smoke covered the beautiful face.
The rumbling noise followed my dream.
The wide cement road drowned the impression of childhood.
I can't breathe when I see my intestines cut open.
I saw it.
The trees in the mountains were cut down.
The birds in the mountains have flown away.
The water in my hometown is no longer sweet.
The flowers in my hometown are no longer fragrant.
I can't see the old scenery of my hometown.
Ah, it made me cry.
The future of my hometown
I can't guess.
Write a modern poem in my hometown tonight, and the moon is still there.
It's a little cold.
Living in a foreign land is an emotion.
Often for no reason.
Vines have been entangled for a long time.
Plain years sow hope.
You are a tree, a cloud and a blue sky.
You are the sea, the sea breeze and a mirage.
How many days, thinking about you, some regrets.
Love is hard, but the sky is hard to decide.
During the day, shut yourself in your room.
Turn off your cell phone and enjoy your loneliness.
Switch TV channels silently.
Mixed shooting, no trace of wind.
How many years, accustomed to your distance.
Your excuse is beautiful.
As round as the moon in the sky.
That vine, very stubborn, sticks out from the gap.
Crazy spread, straight into the sky
Try to preserve some scenery.
Silence at this time and loneliness during the day
As cruel and suffocating.
In the yard next door.
Laughter and the sweetness of moon cakes floated over.
Black knife, stab into my heart.
Moon cakes in front of us
Broken, painful escape
With tears in my eyes, in the uninhabited wilderness
Cry and accuse