The distance of the sky or the distance of the sky?
The distance between hometown or hometown?
Outside the line of sight, you can't blur the line of sight.
My village fell asleep under the peach tree.
A light rain can dig up a clear spring.
My childhood is collected in the distance of green.
In the distance, I showed myself as a child.
Crawl around the world looking for mother's call
Is there still that dazzling sunny day in the distance of my hometown?
Cicada is chirping. Two frogs are breeding by the river.
The wheat is ripe. Father rode on an old cow and ran over Xiaoman.
In the crimson distance, peach blossoms are in full bloom, thank you.
In the soft distance, the river washes the pulp and clothes.
Gentle distance, hometown wears kitchen smoke.
Is it dawn in the distance of dusk?
Is it dusk in the distance of dawn?
Falling leaves. Is it spring in the distance?
Beyond the river is the sea.
The distance of birds is the blue sky.
Not far, I turned around.
My distant hometown is right beside me.
Poetic hometown
Wang Xiaobo said, I am dead.
Ma Yuan said, my novel is dead.
Wang Meng smiled.
Then everyone quarreled.
Prose is dead.
Poetry is dead.
It seems that on earth, except for tenacious buildings,
All those soft things,
Like a silent river,
Like a crying wheat field,
Has reached the brink of despair.
When spring comes,
People see dandelion seeds,
Looking for a place to live everywhere.
However, these don't have to be sad.
You see, now
Yu Xiuhua, a woman from Hengdian Village,
Although it is not clear,
She took a rusty pick,
In the barren hills,
In the arms of her hometown,
Kind of "sleeping with you halfway across China".
Actually, we don't have to be pessimistic.
Even if the tears run dry,
Even if we are a wild pea,
Neglected crops,
As long as we hold high the banner of flowers,
Poetry,
Will be like peony flowers in my hometown in May,
Cheer for everyone.