It's good to comment on poetry and grow up

When asked in time with reddish sadness and joy, it is with me.

There is a promise of life and death, hanging in my heart.

It has harvested my maturity and innocence.

What is left is rustless love and compassionate heart.

Bloom in black ink more noble than blood.

The hatred and sin carried by the nothingness of white paper

We have been silent for too long, and our broad foreheads

Full of wrinkles, obsessed with flesh and blood.

Timidity and cowardice, false screams

Fear pervades me and this era.

China people are ashamed of the complexity of our dwarfing.

Telling the truth is forbidden in the dark.

Confused inside, what bird is it?

How should it adapt to the turbulent soul? soul

Ah, don't say that word to me, it makes me

Resentful of fate, shut up, fate.

After years of silence, I can't find it.

I'm just an empty man, living in shame all the time.

It's not enough! I am also used to wearing masks.

Raise your hand and talk. You want me to leave it behind.

Youth and anger, I owe my ancestors.

Debt, they use blood, life and love.

In exchange for the motherland, it nourishes me as a parasite.

I touch the edge of the country and the city, facing

The remnants of love, our silence will be an indelible shame.

What I see is clouds, which are higher.

Overlooking, stainless autumn iron

I face a wide range of voice loss.