What poem is Bing Xin's Stars?

In order that you can read this book, I knocked on my hand and got a cramp. ......

Stars is Bing Xin's first collection of poems. Poems were collected in Winter Solstice 20091965438+192164 in autumn 2009, originally published in Beijing Morning Post.

The following is the full text of Bing Xin's stars:

one

The stars shine—

Deep blue sky,

Have you ever heard them talk to each other?

In silence,

In the twilight,

They praised each other deeply.

two

Childhood!

This is a fact in the dream,

This is a real dream,

Memories are tearful smiles.

three

The trembling of thousands of hectares of land—

Dark island,

The moon has risen!

The source of life,

Land of the dead.

four

Little brother!

Three bright and happy stars in my soul,

mild

There is nothing to say.

Children in the soul!

five

Darkness,

How deep it is!

Deep down,

Deep in the universe,

A resting place in bright light.

six

Mirror—

According to the contrary,

It feels unnatural,

Why don't you turn it over?

seven

Awake,

Only lonely and angry people!

Listen to the gong of fortune telling,

Break the fate of the world.

eight

Residual flowers are attached to the branches;

The bird flew away,

Scattered all over the floor—

Is life just a glimpse?

nine

Dreams are the hardest thing to hide,

Obviously,

Honestly,

I told you.

Secrets and worries in your soul.

ten

Green shoots,

The young man said:

"Develop yourself!"

Pale white flowers,

The young man said:

"Contribute yourself!"

Deep red fruit,

The young man said:

"Sacrifice yourself!"

eleven

Infinite mystery,

Where to find it?

After laughing,

Before the words,

This is an infinite mystery.

twelve

Humans!

Love each other,

We are all long-distance travelers,

Same destination.

thirteen

A corner of the wall,

Blue sky,

The extreme purpose is infinite-

That is, this is heaven and earth.

fourteen

We are all born babies,

Lying in the cradle of the universe

fifteen

Kid!

You can come to my garden,

Don't pick my flowers-

Look at the thorns of roses,

Stabbed your hand

sixteen

Young man!

For future memories,

Draw your present picture carefully.

seventeen

My friend!

Why do you call me "silence"?

There used to be something in the world,

Words can't describe it.

eighteen

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