When I was reading a book,
Autumn insects came to my bed,
Black, yellow, white,
Crawl, fly,
Come and join in the fun;
There is no sound,
As if intoxicated with the words in the book,
My thoughts are inextricably linked,
Launches flying under incandescent lamps;
These dozens of bugs, try hard.
Spread their tentacles and wings,
Drunk listening,
For this love, for this time of love;
This vast sea of books,
Put her soul and thoughts,
Give it to me, and then give it to the bug;
After a long time, the text is elegant.
Tonight, oh, tonight,
Is an ordinary bookworm,
Suck the gorgeous fragrance of this text,
Keep this feeling in your heart,
Into a vague idea,
Fly freely in the night sky;
Ah, tonight,
With my bugs,
To the starry sky of the soul,
Poems with bright colors,
Leading the silence of autumn night,
* * * Singing in the middle of the night!
Come on, bug,
Write this colorful dream together!
In the dream,
With your wings,
Your god beard,
Let me become a flying mystery!