1, 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.
2. Tomb-Sweeping Day
Text/woodcutter
A year, and between a year.
Something rough.
Sharpen, sharpen those thoughts.
Shorten casual contacts.
Loess, live separately or die.
Then, in the dust
Build a monument, it will be covered with dust.
Dust will be covered with dust.
Until we
I finally can't dig it.
Any shovel of new soil
I can't go on for another day.
Covered with thick dust
3. Tomb-Sweeping Day
Text/paragraph
It rained in all directions,
Found the way home.
Many grasses exert their strength,
Over the heavy hills.
The sound of the grey finch hooked the vast and empty countryside,
Picked up gently by the wind.
Parents twinkling in pear blossoms.
Younger than me.
How many years have passed,
They haven't changed the way I was born.
The air in April smells of glutinous rice and bamboo leaves.
Hunger can make people feel trance for a moment.
The gray butterfly flies over the grave,
I like them flying happily around me.
Look at the wild garden beans wrapped around the neck of the wheat field and unwilling to let go.
How nice! I live another spring on earth in secret.
Qingming, miss the dead friends.
He's dead. We slowly dig a hole in spring,
Carefully, press him into the abdominal cavity in spring.
Let's move on.
Waiting for the call from deep in the soil.
Grass and trees have been green several times and withered several times.
We move on,
No great sorrow, no great joy.
Day after day, pulling weeds,
Look for one or two glowing bugs.
Weak light, supporting love,
Yes, we love our humbleness,
Like to love those, carved in stone, and die quietly.
4. Tomb-Sweeping Day
Wen/Yan
While burning paper money, it was raining in Mao Mao.
-The rape blossoms are a little wet.
The bird is a little wet.
Xiaowuxu, the small village where I was born is a little damp.
The small village in another small village is a little wet.
All the people who burn paper money in front of another small village
And people burned by paper money
On this day, we meet in the same capacity.
They came to chat and talk about their wishes.
This has nothing to do with wealth.
They seem to have passed through the gap of Qingming.
A glimpse of the mystery of life and death
5. Tomb-Sweeping Day
Text/Watch Dawn
April. After my pain, the rain came.
on the way home
Many people meet by chance, and have nothing to do with each other.
Piety, humility and tears
The past is barren, and the black highland in my heart.
Just like the dignity of the bulge, the higher the cardinal number, the higher it is.
Fireworks are flourishing, and tears are soaked in yellow thick incense paper.
get rid of
The fragrance of spring
In April, my broken rib gradually healed.
Pain is associated with spring.
Carrying the ancestral teachings, I am like an empty cup.
Sitting in the rain with biting pain.
Intentionally or unintentionally rewritten
phylogenetic tree
In April, after the storm.
The sunshine blooms a flower.
Dust, flying on the secular road.
Finally in a corner.
Fall down, lie down