1, "Lyric Episode" No.9
On the wings of singing,
Honey, I'll fly you there,
Fly to Yuan Ye on the Ganges,
There is a place with beautiful scenery.
Gardens are colorful-
Bathed in the moonlight,
Lotus is waiting-
Their dear sister.
Look up at the stars;
Roses whisper,
Is it sweet? .
A docile and clever antelope—
Jump over and listen,
The rolling waves of the holy river—
Running in the distance.
We will land there—
Rest under palm trees,
Drink love, peace,
Sweet dreams.
2. The troubles of youthNo. 16
I want to use gold foil, roses and cypress branches,
Decorate this book lovely and beautiful,
Decorate it as a coffin,
Then put my poems in the library to read and bury.
Ah, I wish I could bury my love!
Grass grows beside the grave of love,
It bloomed and was picked by people,-
But it won't blossom for me until I go to the grave.
This is my dissolute poem in the past,
Like lava from Mount Etna.
From the bottom of my heart,
Flying everywhere bursts with brilliant sparks.
They are as silent as dead bodies now.
They are pale, cold and stiff now.
But if there is a spirit of love running on it,
It will inspire the enthusiasm of the past.
So I have a lot of hunches,
The dew of love will one day shed poems over and over again;
This book will fall on your head one day.
Your distant dear close friend.
At that time, these pale words,
Will leave the magic net of poetry and look at you,
It looks into your beautiful eyes imploringly,
Sorrow and love are intertwined.
3. Beihai Collection No.6-Confession
Twilight is getting thicker and thicker,
The tide is more turbulent,
I'm sitting on the coast—
Watching the waves dance wildly at sea,
My heart is like the sea,
Deep homesickness comes to mind,
I am attached to you, you are gentle and charming-
Floating in front of my eyes,
Call me everywhere,
Everywhere, flying around,
Sometimes with the howling wind, the sea cries wildly.
Sometimes it melts into my inner sigh.
I carefully wrote this sentence on the beach with a gentle reed:
"Agnus, I love you!"
But fierce waves are rude,
Drowned this sweet heart,
Wash it without leaving a trace.
Slender and fragile reed stalks, scattered quicksand,
The foam is splashing, I don't believe you anymore!
The darker the sky is, the more excited my heart is.
I'm from a big forest in Norway, and my hands are strong-
Call the tallest fir tree, it goes straight into the sky,
Let me get this straight—
Mount Etna, flaming,
I use this elvish pen full of flames-
Write my heart in the dark sky:
"Agnus, I love you!"