Strip away the dust of history
Expose the glory of the past.
That year, that day in Na Yue.
You sneak into my lonely dream.
Chest full of coal.
This is the fire you left behind.
A face full of vicissitudes of life.
Can't call back the peace of your sonorous departure.
I turned my eyes into "the moon"
Waiting for you every night
The door of the ear is only for
You stepped on my persistence and loyalty.
(2) Hiding room
Night wine
How many drunks believe in women and good men?
I'm addicted to it, too
I miss you as thin as the breeze.
Sitting alone longer than at night
The planetesimals are in a daze in the sky
A person in a trance
Call me by my birth name
Some secrets that can't be told.
Tiptoe in my heart.
Thirsty lips with a pen tip
Revealed the heartbeat of a lifetime ago.
(3) around
From day to dusk
It's like everything I do
Run towards a theme
I walk in your shadow.
You are in my mind.
Like an unfinished game of chess.
shilly-shally
Exhausted all thoughts
I like your reserved white.
I prefer your stubborn red.
The temptation of white inside and red inside
Has been occupied.
Many times.
Hate yourself not deeply enough.
The little secret that overflowed from my heart
All your fragrant names.
(4) Midnight
The days were blown away by the wind.
Leave the thin birds to sing.
Echo tomorrow
Have some regrets
Climb to the forehead of midnight panic
Surge into endless vastness
Leak through the fingers
A little light penetrated.
A fallen box
(5) Lie down
This is a wonderful evening.
A storm of sorrow and joy
Hide in it
at present
Fill a glass of the past.
I really need to get drunk.
I know
Have a mortal heart
You will have the world.
Hunger and lightning
Fantasized countless times.
Take the distance as your own.
With a lifetime of clumsiness and infatuation
Light and heat are with you.
And the Spring and Autumn Period is presented on paper.
I can't wait for the first frost.
die young
Editor's comment:
Fire is related to history and loyalty. The fire that stayed in Na Yue that year was sonorous and calm. Good poetry often leaves readers room for imagination. The author is the first original, and the reader is the second original. Some unspeakable secrets, I stood on tiptoe and my heart was pounding. Round and round, crossing in the shadow, doing my best, the temptation of white inside and red inside, the secret of my heart. At midnight, the days are blown away by the wind, leaving only thin birds singing. I like this poem, it's beautiful! Sleeping, the night is coming, recalling the past, having a distant place, hoping for infinite beauty, and the reality is so helpless. A group of poems, each with a theme, reflects the poet's inner activities and is memorable to read. * * * Recommend a reward.