My poems will run to you through the jungle of childhood.
Still sparse stars and a lost child.
Father, please use your nurtured and loved hands.
Take me through the waves of life,
Go to the higher mountain top, go to the deeper sea bottom,
Enjoy different scenery and embark on a more difficult journey again.
Father, you used to rise, sow and cultivate with the sun.
In a gesture of submission to the earth.
Send away one storm after another.
Now that the grain is full,
Father, how many people have died. The wind passes here again.
Enjoy the rich scenery in the fields.
Why are you still buried in silence?
Now the grass of the years has begun to grow again.
How many quiet nights have fallen in the ravines and ravines in my heart.
Look up, the stars are dim tonight.
Just because of this sleepy night?
A distant child reached out to you, but didn't respond for a long time.
Father, the village across the river is very old now.
It is raining heavily there, and the fish at the bottom of the river are singing.
The fragrant hands on the branches are also beating fast.
Father, where did your figure come from?
Lightning in the sky tells me
The seedlings are growing well.
I care more about you.
Have you ever worn a raincoat when you go out?
Father, tell me that besides the memory I need,
How can I love you more?
If it gets dark, the night will cover the buildings whose corners are illuminated by moonlight.
My heart can't sleep, looking at the occasional small light outside the window.
How to pay more attention to you
Father, the outstanding life in your life is in trouble.
In the world of speculation
Children imitate your courage to go out.
Turn left or right, go straight or turn.
The end point that always exists is waiting.
I am a prisoner who has absconded all my life.
Father, for a long time, has buried deception and a yellow flower of victory.
That summer, the rest of the time was chased by dogs.
People all over the world poured in from all directions, shouting "liberation, liberation"
The fruits of victory have not yet been settled, my time and space.
Suddenly drowned in a group of trampled light and shadow.
You say: child, darkness, your eyes, when bright, can shine through dark clouds and dense fog.
Your old road is still extending, negative or positive, negative or optimistic.
Father, inherit your kindness and blood.
The sharp weapon of language and the danger of life pierce only calluses.
The fresh heart is still spinning around the endless life bred by the land.
Millet, ripe millet, green crude fiber
They are all familiar old friends, and their hands moving stones are getting old.
My strength is reduced by half, and the climate makes my leg joints ache slightly.
Father, anyone can see your gray head and crooked eyes with age.
Dad, it's good that your hand is still in mom's hand!
You didn't laugh at the family photo under the cherry tree in front of our house on a rainy day.
Serious expression, but the warmth of the family sitting together,
Better than every spring flower I wander outside!