1, random thoughts of Tomb-Sweeping Day
Walk into Tomb-Sweeping Day
With a grateful heart
Thanksgiving underground relatives.
Grateful parents
Every year, Tomb-Sweeping Day pays homage to the old friends.
Show your heart at your parents' grave.
Life is not easy.
Feelings are getting more and more real.
Life has experienced more than half.
Getting closer and closer to parents
Be a good person all your life
More important than anything.
People are famous when they die.
Seek truth from goodness.
What is fundamental?
As a man, of course.
Normal mind in life
Don't lose heart when you are alive.
Worth making friends.
Be worthy of the person you love.
Fame and wealth
Why take it too seriously?
Be a down-to-earth person
Relatives in the underground are also at ease.
2. Drunk in Tomb-Sweeping Day
There is not much drunkenness in life.
Drunk in front of my parents' grave
Only in front of relatives
Only this kind of real drunkenness!
Usually I don't get drunk when I drink.
There is no reason to get drunk.
Expose yourself to your parents.
That sincerity is from the heart.
How many difficult things are there in life
How bitter and tired is life?
There's no need to tell anyone.
Only parents listen to you.
You need to pull yourself together when you're done.
Stand up after getting drunk.
Everything needs your own efforts.
Bring comfort to underground parents.
3. "Sacrifice your soul"
The festival of the dead, the carnival of tears
Whips, tribute fruits and incense sticks have been formed.
The scenery is vast.
We walked past the rigid wooden shelf.
Those souls are crowded together
As if to keep warm.
Close to each other
These souls are quiet and silent.
In their own boxes.
Think of the streets and acquaintances.
One thing, and ...
Love that you can't get in your early years
Now the body has been sawed.
Sculpting, painting
Different from before
Listen, firecrackers are going on,
Use your hands like many people.
Slam the table with an empty porcelain bowl
Another way to express it is
We put all kinds of feelings
Dices are usually thrown on the table.
Then put it away.
Make the same sound
Oh, white ashes, the best morality
These souls are no longer used.
Language, actions and eyes
They cleaned up their lives a long time ago.
No more guests, no more loans
Some of their remaining breaths
It is our short and long memory.
What have we brought today?
Cakes and fruits are real.
In their eyes, it's like a person dreaming.
Have all kinds of dreams
Indirect things, rich fantasies
Eat, this is life.
within reach
Through the flames, these souls are like birds.
There is a nest, in a self-sufficient box
Regardless of spring, summer, autumn and winter; They began to regret it.
These long-term imprisoned souls
How eager to be like dust.
Between heaven and earth, like rain in the wind.
Or light falling from a screen between trees.
Look, light smoke is everywhere, we see it.
Sincere nostalgia has turned into a fog.
Once a year, on the steps
On the lawn, these boxes
Worshipped by us, erased by tears
And incense sticks are like our sadness.
Burn to ashes gradually
Close to each other
As if to keep warm.
Those souls are crowded together
We walked past the rigid wooden shelf.
The scenery is vast.
Whip, tribute and incense have been formed.
The festival of the dead, the carnival of tears
4. Qingming rain
Those silk threads are closely interwoven together.
Sadness. The restless soul walks,
I can't see.
Black sleep and dusk live here.
A batch of rain is divided into tearful eyes.
Serve wine, worship and burn incense.
Solemn.
Let the ancestors in.
Throw away the water-deficient lightning
Don't dodge, don't extricate yourself, have ideas.
5. "In the graveyard"
This is seven inches of the village.
During the Qingming Festival,
Release a lot of eye-catching words
Put it in the coffin,
Don't create suspense,
Remember to pay tribute to them
Weeds are still fresh.
The growth on the tombstone
Abandonment continues to take root in people's hearts,
Hook up with a few bones
The person you visited did not move,
Don't talk.
Crows are spectacular.
They use flustered eyes.
Disassembly noise
A festival is like a Buddha.
Walking for thousands of years.
Sitting in April
Waiting for countless tears to drown themselves.
Hold a few handfuls of loess and make a fire.
Fold your body and bow your head repeatedly.
Look at those black butterflies, floating.
Drop gently and stop.
Willow flute mourning, pine and cypress standing still.
We went upstream along the full stop.
The past was complicated. A heart
Bloom at the same time as peach blossoms
Silently dispersed again.
At this time, some lifeless souls
loquitur
However, many people only know how to distribute paper money.
Those mysterious voices
Never heard of it.
6. Tomb-Sweeping Day's poetry
I wrote down my hometown, rice;
I wrote down the clear river.
I wrote down the fish under the water,
I wrote down the green grass on the shore.
I wrote down the ghost that lights up at night to find love.
I wrote down the legend of grandma and Guanyin
A person who has done good deeds all his life will eventually become a fairy.
Although she keeps saying that she has unfinished business.
I have to write this down,
Homesickness lingers in my dreams for a long time.
I must write the scenery from your humble farmhouse.
I must write the power of life from your poor back.
Just like my father dug Jin Wa out of the ground,
We all know that's false.
But he's been digging all his life. Can you believe it?
I have to write this before Tomb-Sweeping Day.
The ancestral grave has moved, and he can hardly speak a dialect.
The only last name that hasn't changed,
You asked me to keep in touch with my mother.
I must put these unfinished poems in Tomb-Sweeping Day.
Burning in the northern sky