Wild flowers, a bunch of modern poems

a bunch of wild flowers (old work)

Northeast snow

1. Hometown, anchored in the tide

Anchored, my hometown boat,

sailed to the distant blue.

Left-behind,

Fairy tales planted in my grandfather's snail,

Fables sewn in my grandmother's sewing bag.

The pale and bitter days are long gone.

I put my long-cherished wish of the coastline,

together with the isolated island created by Shennong,

on a long-distance boat.

let the sea be baptized.

2. Footprints

Footprints

On the awakened land, a line of new green

is not regular

but it reveals vitality

The hay is echoing the wind

shaking its frozen head

-the road seems to be not straight

It must be an illegitimate child abandoned in winter and summer

. Straightening

dragging a brand-new plough

ploughing deeply, responsible for the hope in the field

the search in the furrow on the forehead

the head of the trough is no longer full of hunger

the swollen `muscles

bury the bony bones

I deeply strengthen my limbs

. Wildflowers

There is a

nameless wildflower

that quietly blooms at the end of autumn

and matures a string of

slightly sweet bitter fruits

The original green leaves

have been buried in the yellow days

So, will spring return

5, Fig

The sand fruit planted in the crooked years

has gone old

It has disappeared. There is a fig lingering on the tender vine

You said: it is ripe hunger

I said: there will be

spring harvest

6 in autumn. Pioneers

never harvested the heavy golden autumn

but after all, we planted it with our hearts

In that season of dreams

Our aspirations were so persistent

Since we have worked hard

Why should we care about how much we have harvested

Let's open up a green space again

Bury the eternal saying

Winter goes and spring comes

What will happen again?