Your name, the author. Ji Xian (1965438+April 27, 2003—2065438+July 22, 2003), whose original name was Lu Yue, became more and more popular with his pen names Louis, Zhang Rong and Qingkonglv. His ancestral home is Qin County, Shaanxi Province, and he is from Qingyuan, Hebei Province. He is a famous writer and modern poet in Taiwan Province Province.
With the lightest sound in the world,
Whispering your name every night.
Write down your name,
Draw your name,
Dream of your glowing name:
Like the sun, like the stars, your name.
Like a lamp, like a diamond, your name.
Like colorful sparks, like lightning, your name.
Like the burning of the virgin forest, your name.
Carve your name!
Carve your name on the tree.
Carve your name on the immortal tree of life.
When this plant grows into a towering old tree,
Hehe, how nice, how nice,
Your name is even bigger.
It's big. Your name.
Here we go. Your name.
So, call your name gently and gently.
The night is full of your name.
Your name flashed on the cigarette butt.
Hold your name with your fingers.
Your name is printed on the manuscript paper.
Your name shines on the Yuan Ye.
Climb over the towering mountains
Dig your name
Suffering in Wang Yang Sea
Save your reputation.
Your name is the crystal pearl under the sea.
Your name is wildfire burning in the deep mountains.
Your name is a lamp that illuminates the distance.
Your name is the intersection of dreams.
Scattered petals
Maybe we were 500 years ago
Two leaves on the same acacia tree
The wind of time blows us away.
Maybe it's the tears of the cowherd and the weaver girl.
Drip-drip-person-room
Even if I use the softest voice
Call your name
Tears will also dance in my eyes.
I stood in Bian Jiang and called your name.
The Jinsha River is surging with emotion.
I can't open your closed curtains.
Climb the mountain on your other side.
Carve your name.
Shan Ye is full of flames.
Red azalea
Your name is boat.
Take me across to the symphony of fate to pick lotus.
I'm lonely in the bass zone
The high notes have been handed in.
A voice of resistance
Your name is fire.
When I stumble in the tunnel of life
Light the blood vessels with your name.
Moja Krew
Can you fill in your front?
Ka-ka-ka-ka
Wind and rain transcend the night.
Missing in the world of mortals
Spring has come to your name.
Can you open a flower on the manuscript paper?
Orchids swaying in the wind
Tonight, Yi Deng is like a bean
Spring is chilly, and I will light your name.
Heating,
Love (1928.5.11~), formerly known as Mo Yunduan and Mo Luofu, was born in Hengyang, an internationally renowned poet, a leader in Chinese poetry, a nominee of Nobel Prize in Literature, and the most famous modern poet in Taiwan Province Province. It is praised as "the poet's magic" by the poetry circle.
Love Poem
1. Beyond Smoke 2. Andante on April 3rd. Blood 4 reprint. Jinlongsi
5. Snow Swing 6. Step out of the Three Gorges 7. Twilight 8. Crossing Xinhai Tunnel in the Rain
9. Butterfly 10. Orchard 1 1. 12 window. Projection.
13. Pomegranate tree 14. Beyond ashes 15. Rainy night 16. The crowd is noisy.
17. Born black 18. The change of boulder 19. Stamp 20. Ask.
2 1. The foot of my bed is shining so brightly. Reading letters at midnight. Walking alone in the rain
Beyond smoke
Calling your name in the waves, and your name
Has been outside Qian Fan.
Tides come and go.
The shoe print on the left is only in the afternoon
The shoe print on the right is dusk.
June was originally a very sentimental book.
The ending is so sad.
-The sun sets in the west.
You're still staring.
The man's eyes are pure white.
He knelt down to you, to yesterday, to that beautiful flower.
Clouds in the afternoon
Hi, sea, why in all the lights?
Light the empty light alone.
What else can we catch?
Your eyes were once called snow.
Now some people call it
smoke
Andante in April
Day is salt at night.
Night is water during the day.
Wings of Yue Wei Beauty
The wind is the guest of the window.
Clouds are the dance of mountains.
Fish is a flower in water.
Birds are the songs of trees.
Well, it's a woman's face.
The framework is a prison during the day.
Wine is the foot of dreams.
Rainbow drunk in the sky
Dew is the blood of flowers.
Butterflies are umbrellas in spring.
Streets are the strings of cities.
The coast is a harbor for rivers.
A boat is a crossing hand.
Wings are the sails of birds.
Shoes are the wife of the road.
Smoke is Iraq's eyes
Tears are the beginning of Zen.
Reprint of blood
-Poems in memory of mother
order
read
Recite repeatedly
Your shiny.
face
A lid made of gold foil.
yesterday
You were blown to page 77.
Then it stopped.
Become an orphan at home and abroad.
And your blood.
Inject new words into my blood.
In my body
republish
In April, Grain Rain first arrived.
In the twilight
A long distance call from Hong Kong.
collapsed
There was a sudden explosion.
Say you're gone, don't wait for me.
mother
I held back my tears.
I grabbed a handful of dirt tightly.
I know, now.
You are in my palm.
And gradually seeped into my blood vessels
My spine
I held back my tears.
Hiding alone in the study
calmly
Sit and watch the sunset sneak past the window.
Night is coming again.
The afterglow is still warm
inside
Slow fire is cooking a pot of mourning.
I pulled up the curtains.
Night fell rapidly.
Come and sew me a black shirt.
mother
I really didn't cry.
Just staring in the mirror.
look
Hanging on the mirror
tears
It took 30 years to reach his mouth.
I bowed my head and said nothing.
Like thistle withered after a strong wind
Meditate on you-
mother
Memory is like a sharp knife.
Where the blade can reach.
You saw me in a pool of blood
I saw you in the meat.
All love and death
Desire and silence
Endless entanglement of bitter vine
It all started with an umbilical cord.
(That's it) suddenly.
Generation after generation
Surrounded in an endless line.
silkworm
I am the pupa of them.
When the broken silkworm comes out
I'm covered in blood.
I 've been looking for you everywhere.
Let me tell you
How bitter it is to be a moth.
How painful it is to burn yourself in broad daylight.
Mom, I chased you to the wilderness.
Look around blankly
I'm waiting for you to explain the meaning of time to me.
time
The moon rises for the thousandth time.
I'm confused.
Why isn't every star you?
Tonight, I have to
Still climbing the umbilical cord to the starting point of life
But I only caught it.
Your cold hands
My cold hands
Find yours from the box.
One photo, and another.
Big brother's sad and silent letter
The manuscript paper is bleak
And every word is very spicy.
Thirty years of isolation
Thirty years of slavery
Waiting day after day
Sea water on both sides of the strait skyrocketed.
Tie a knot in the air.
Or build a bridge.
Dreaming every night
Fold the letter from home into a boat.
I was ecstatic when I rolled up my collection of poems.
Learn from Lao Du.
Raise the solitary sail and enter the Dongting.
Back to Xiang, Zi, Yuan and Feng.
Then stop at night.
Your pillow is covered with white hair.
That's the dock where ships dock thousands of miles away.
I threw away the cable happily.
You grab my arm.
internal
The tide will rise at night.
Is there any salty water stain?
It spilled on my skirt.
Your pillow ...
No, my pillow.
A boat full of sorrow
pillow
two
Dreams are vague.
But like a piece of black plaster.
insist on
A wound that hasn't been scarred for 30 years
Mom, do you remember?
That cold night, a snowy road.
I approached the house trembling.
The frost maple in the yard has withered.
The autumn chrysanthemum on the steps has been damaged.
A noisy childhood in the pond
It condenses into solid ice below zero.
At this moment
All the chickens and dogs are silent.
There are no lights and bangs in the village.
Weed burial diameter
I couldn't find my way home when I was a child.
Cold wind hunting and blowing clothes
It's cold, mom.
I was attracted by the candlelight in front of your window.
Stand on tiptoe and climb the stone steps.
At the foot, the leaves are finely divided.
Break up, step by step, a heartbeat.
I raised my hand and knocked at the door.
Put it down again
I'm afraid the knocker will answer me with a strange sigh.
I can't bear to see you wake up.
hold one's own
cold wind
So I quietly came to your window.
I saw you lying on your side.
Curly shadows floated on the wall.
The fire has gone out.
Hanging a clock seems to wake up.
There is a crutch beside the tea table.
Next to the cane
There is a pair of black and thin cloth shoes.
The stars in the yard reflect the snow.
White as a baby.
If you take off your clothes and feed my breasts
Now, your teeth are withered.
Wei duncheng
The only thing my father left on the wall
Bitter scenery
From your barren forehead
I read it.
The vastness between heaven and earth
Vaguely hear your tears.
Across the universe
Browsing history
mother
Why didn't you say anything?
Why don't you turn around and look at me?
Have you heard of it?
I cried in surprise.
Mom, why don't you talk?
I have been at your window.
Thicken the snow station by two inches, three inches and five inches.
Look, my eyebrows are all dyed white.
Of course, it's not entirely snow.
Also mixed with 30 years of dust, sad moon.
It's cold, mom.
Turn around and look at the tears on my face.
Alas, it's too late.
tears
Formed an icicle
I am a dream.
A dream without skin and hair
How do dreams resist cold and thirst?
The year of parting
The sweater you stuffed in my bag.
It's already like our home.
Broken, broken
A hole, a scar.
Cotton-padded jacket thirty years ago
Turn it over and wear it.
It's a new robe after 30 years.
The tentacles are cold.
Just your phone.
Or mild condemnation.
Your hug is as warm as a pot of charcoal fire.
Will make me deeply aware.
The best way to keep warm is to go home.
No matter in the dream.
In the smile of carnation
Or a small flame of a candle ...
three
The local accent has not changed, and the temple has declined.
mother
More than 30 years of hot and cold running.
I'm still just a guy.
Lonely geese chase the horizon.
The sun rises and the moon sets.
A person's nobility is eternal.
I still stick to the original direction of spreading my wings.
In spring, I waded in rivers and lakes with too much rain.
In summer, I flap my wings and sweep the earth.
Like an eagle making a storm hovering at the top of the mountain.
in the fall
I'm sleepy like a kite.
You don't own the whole sky until you break this line.
After winter
I'm walking on thin ice.
Start the river bottom rapids again.
The kind that Qu Yuan lived in Miluo thousands of years ago.
A cold journey
And my Li Sao
It's about subtropical eczema and loneliness.
Tinea is as stubborn as usual
The endless expansion of homesickness
It is a green lotus without roots.
It's polyporus that can't catch the soil.
The footprints of clouds are floating on the water.
Into the rolling dust
A castle rising from the clouds
make a sound
Clear and incomprehensible night clock.
walk along...
Sweat flows to the southeast and blood spills to the northwest.
at any time
One knife at a time
Cut me into scales and fins
There are only a handful of spiny stems left in the whole body.
I'm afraid it will be windy at dusk.
Many leaves fall with the wind.
Whispering
See again
Autumn, holding the red cheeks of frosty maple.
moon
It is said that it will be round one day.
Will it? mother
Some people say it will rain this autumn.
How hateful
The sky and Wan Li are all ink.
On the balcony on the fifth floor
As light as a chrysanthemum//Away from fame and fortune
Before boarding the plane
I have been unable to restrain a burst of panic for a long time.
Take off your clothes in the wind.
Sing with lapels
There is a choking light cough in the aftertaste.
Alas, how can there be no moon in the Mid-Autumn Festival?
How can I imagine you in your early years without the moon?
Teach me how to feel.
One night homesickness
Five throbbing places
Mom, you are a pine tree.
Waiting for migratory birds to return with open arms, and
Ten years of lightning and thunder
Ten years of insect erosion and frost attack
Ten years in a daze
You have withered into bare branches and leaves.
When the wind comes, I can't hear Songtao any more, just like the sunset at night.
The mountain was silent.
The stars on your forehead are silent and blind.
You also looked up at the sky.
The sky is more empty than your eyes.
Xiang Xue, hold out your hand.
Snowflakes give you a cold slap.
No curse, no escape
You chew quietly.
Loneliness and despair assigned to you by others.
On the hillside, children are rolling hoop beside them.
On the hillside, there are large areas of dogwood.
Dandelions fly in the wind.
Beyond that is a shallow stream.
Waiting for spring tide.
Bring it the joy of a group of fish babies.
At this time, mom.
I think I heard it.
You leaned over in the water and whispered:
"Where is my child?
My milk is dry.
But the pain of being sucked hard is still there
Where are you?
Where are you?
One night homesickness
Five throbbing places
It beats because we have the same blood concentration as you.
Tears are as salty.
Mom, you know what?
Beyond the horizon.
Every night in the blue sky
I am the only person in space who is light years away.
Burn your own Neptune
four
Trees want peace.
The wind never stopped.
The child wants to raise
And ... mother
Which river do you follow?
In which sea?
Tonight is so quiet and long.
After the moon jumped into the sea in the exclamation of the stars
After the watch suddenly stopped at midnight,
After all the sunflowers fall.
After the rain
After a cold in the nose
It's so cold, I just want to hit it.
After your warm swaddling clothes
I was too surprised to speak.
It's hard to forget-
Why did you and I say goodbye thirty years ago?
A 30-second phone call
This is an eternal formula.
Mom, where are you?
I once found you in the rough waves.
Over Qian Fan.
None of them are your faces.
Looking for you in the thick swamp
I can't see your footprints by the water.
Find you in the long lane of the avenue
Just vaguely heard
All the lights in the city are calling your name.
Looking for you on the grassland in the morning
In a blooming pure white ginger flower
At the peak of dusk
Fan up a cliff full of dusk eagles.
Nanshan is dangerous and the wind is raging.
Mom, where are you?
At this time, I only saw
The setting sun sinks deeper and deeper.
The colder the better.
The more ... the more. ......
light
I suggest you buy a book of Ralph's poems and have a good look.
Good luck!