There are poems in the painting. Part I: Painting
In the countryside, in the fields, on the paths.
Listen to the breath of the grass and the light song of the wind.
Red, yellow and white.
I think they look a lot like me.
It was my childhood or my twilight years.
Time the painter.
Draw for me.
Turquoise grass
The purple of flowers
The banker's gold
Gray sky
One afternoon
Like an espresso.
Diluted infinitely.
but I ...
But it takes a lifetime of pain.
Have a taste.
Poetry in painting Part II: Painting
Author: Chen Weipan
Your painting
unhurried
Climb up the humid and sultry night.
Back against a pine tree
Half-open eyes
look on coldly
On the edge of the night
A big piece of wet.
A faint bright sky
Step on my stomach.
Half-life panic
Flowing along the road of death
Can my body still move?
But I can't.
Why do you always send it out?
Scream like rubble
Faced with too many problems
long time
I thought of a good story.
The mouth is stuck with too much paint.
Only the flash of death
Although weak
I can finally see it.
In your heart
Very vague
It's also romantic.
Poetry in painting Part III: Painting
before long
The teacher taught me to learn to draw.
The paint box is full of colors.
Red, green, blue, yellow and black.
I have a soft spot for dark and black.
Instead of drawing a gray sky.
Just draw some dark clouds.
The teacher has to shake his head helplessly every time.
One day, the teacher took the paint box away on purpose.
Leaving only a bright red pigment.
Let me draw a bright red sun.
I drew and drew, and I was not careful.
But it was painted as a bleeding heart.
There are poems in the painting Part IV: A pleasing painting.
Ever since he said the color was gray
I saw his funny expression.
Like a blind man, he touched the ivory.
Yes, it's bleeding.
Kick a big foot
Now he has replaced the old man's nose with a straw hat and a green field.
Like an innocent and carefree urchin
Picking mushrooms by the wolf's den
Also said: I am older than you.
Poetry in Painting Part V: Yago's Painting
Author: Xilai
On white paper, I drew a goat with my ideal.
Running on the grassland in spring,
The sun has grown up,
It became the sky where children were eleven years old.
Life is green, just like the rainbow when flowers and dewdrops meet each other.
I was immersed in music,
Then lie down,
Sleep quietly in the smell of grass.
The mouse is playing the piano, and the sea is looking for a bosom friend while listening.
Scarecrow watched me draw in the moonlight,
I drew these flowers with a pencil.
Turned into a girl who was elated.
Memory is a blue river,
The frog is singing,
Lotus wakes up,
My dream has come true,
It is in a sunny place.