The following is a poem manuscript
"Nanjing, Nanjing"
Liang Ping
Nanjing,
Emperors have never left I am far away, and those mausoleums, those mausoleums that are still majestic even after death, are not worthy of me.
My life is like a cloud,
I am a fish in the river behind Li Xiangjun,
looking at the old market in the water.
Old things come to light,
Every bit of it is close.
The thread-bound pages were scattered on the water,
A few strands of her gown were wet and blurred with the skirt of her skirt
The husband was sitting on the shore, motionless,
Looking at all the fish landing, surprisingly
none of them looked drowned.
The Qinhuai River has become thinner,
Those wandering illusions were before the Republic of China,
before the Qing Dynasty, before the Ming, Yuan, Song and Tang Dynasties,
Drink enough water from this river.
The rouge has faded, the music, chess, calligraphy and painting,
the beauty and the extraordinary behavior.
I can’t help but be drunk.
The canal becomes wine, the Qinhuai River becomes wine, and the Yangtze River becomes wine.
Suddenly, the world was spinning, and I was in a trance.
I realized that I was also swimming on the shore.
Mengwei’s wine has dreams,
Yanhong’s wine has “Yan Zi”,
Zichuan’s wine knocks him down,
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There are also leaf oars, on the trees with ancient growth rings,
A boat with a leaf as an oar, wine in the arms,
Embraces of high moral character and high respect - all should be drink.
It’s just a tilt of the neck,
Drunk into a man, drunk into that fish.
The fish swam from Chengdu, where there was no water, and found a moment of peace.
The lantern on the bedside of Changle Inn,
happy with my Chinese characters all night long.
I was born for Chinese characters, the last grain,
left on the Phoenix stage of the old Central Party Headquarters,
a human character, a living person,
Not out of vulgar taste,
Drinking, playing cards, writing poetry, metaphysically,
Talking to wine and talking to dreams,
Then, bind these words into a book,
This life is enough.
In Nanjing, strong alcohol,
brought me back to my original shape, the original one,
going back and forth wherever I went,
< p>Return to my mother's arms and let her be as beautiful as ever. I am a baby who is ignorant of the world.