1, sand
The sun shines on a white beach with our footprints printed on it.
We walked by the river, and the river rippled in the wind.
We called the ferryman, but the voice was blown away by the wind.
Step 2 hope
Dream friends, fantasy sisters.
I am my own shadow, but I always walk in front of you.
Invisible as light, unstable as wind.
There is always a distance between her and you.
Like birds outside the window, like clouds in the sky.
Like a butterfly by the river, cunning and beautiful.
You go up, she flies.
If you ignore her, she will kick you out.
She will stay with you until you stop breathing.
3. Snow falls on the land of China.
Snow falls on the land of China, and the cold is blocking China.
The wind, like a sad old woman.
Followed by cold fingers and claws, pulling the skirts of pedestrians.
I spoke for a while in words as old as the land.
The man who emerged from the forest and drove the carriage.
You China farmer, wearing a fur hat.
Where are you going in the snow?
I tell you, I am also a descendant of farmers.
Because of your wrinkled faces,
I can understand it so deeply.
The hardships of people living on the grassland.
I'm not happier than you.
Lying on the river of time, the waves of suffering have swallowed me up and swept me up several times.
Wandering and imprisonment made me lose the most precious time of my youth.
My life is as haggard as yours.
Snow falls on the land of China, and the cold is blocking China.
A small oil lamp moves slowly by the river on a snowy night.
The light reflected on the tattered covered boat.
Who is sitting with his head down?
Ah, you.
A disheveled young woman.
Isn't it? Your home.
Is the happy and warm nest burned down by the violent enemy?
Really? Like tonight?
Without the protection of men, in the fear of death.
Have you ever been teased by enemy bayonets?
On such a cold night.
Countless, our elderly mother.
Like foreigners, huddled in a home that doesn't belong to them.
I wonder how far the wheels will roll tomorrow.
Moreover, China's road.
It's so rugged and muddy.
Snow falls on the land of China, and the cold is blocking China.
Through the grasslands on snowy nights, those areas gnawed by bonfires.
Countless, land cultivators.
They lost livestock and fertile land.
Crowded in a dirty alley desperate for life.
The hungry earth faces the gloomy sky.
Stretch out your trembling arms begging.
China's pain and disaster are as vast and long as this snowy night!
Snow falls on the land of China, and the cold is blocking China.
China, mine is in the dark.
Can the weak poems written give you a little warmth?
3. Time
I stood under the low eaves and looked at the barren hills with ecstasy.
There is also that high and open sky, which I feel is a miracle in my heart for a long time.
I saw a shining thing that inspired my heart like the sun.
There was a loud noise on the horizon, accompanied by a stormy roar.
Rumble.
I am fascinated by it and cheer for it!
When I heard the sound coming from the side of the snowy mountain, it was the sound of the huge ship bumping and rolling on the uneven road.
Like the grooms who go to the wedding.
Even though I know it doesn't bring me holiday revelry.
The laughter in the circus is a more cruel sight than a thousand slaughterhouses.
But I still run to it with the enthusiasm that a life can exert.
I am not weak, and I will not be complacent.
I am not a person who can comfort myself or deceive myself. I am not satisfied with what the world has given me.
Honor or shame.
Whether it's gloomy eyes and hatred like night, or the happiness that people's eyes shine because of it.
I feel empty in places you don't know. Give me the world I live in, and I will always open my arms.
I want to climb mountains, and I want to cross the sea.
I want to meet higher praise and greater slander.
More unresolved grievances, more deadly blows.
I want to get up from the deep ditch of time ...
No one, the pain will be worse than me.
I am loyal to the times, dedicated to the times, but silent.
Reluctantly, like a captured prisoner.
Before being taken to the execution ground, I was silent because there was not enough loud language.
Like thunder in early summer rolling in a cloudy sky, my passion is released in my crazy cry.
Dedicated to something that excites and surprises me so much, I love it more than anything I have ever loved.
I am willing to give my life for its arrival.
From my inner body to my soul, I look so humble before it.
I even want to lie on my back and let its feet step on my chest like the road.
4. I love this land
If I were a bird, I would also sing with a hoarse throat.
This land hit by the storm, this river of sadness and anger will surge forever.
The wind blowing endlessly, and the gentle dawn from the forest.
Then I died and even my feathers rotted in the ground.
Why do I often cry? Because I love this land deeply.
5. "Trolley"
In the area where the Yellow River flows, at the bottom of countless dry rivers.
The unicycle has only one wheel, making a harsh sound and shaking the gloomy sky.
Bud goes through the cold and silence, from one foot to the other.
It's ringing, the sorrow of the people in the north.
In freezing days, between poor villages and small villages.
The wheelbarrow made a deep rut on the gray loess layer.
Across the desert, from this road to that road.
Interwoven with the sadness of the people in the north.