Reading Sleep Poems|The river is the cloud returning home, the cloud is the wandering river

Wen/Lang Shao

There are no railway tracks in my hometown

Except for growing wheat

and rice

Take No free land

.

No free time. The old father also

Lights a cigarette

Always thinks of looking at the sky

.

Actually. We originally started from the waterway

Lixiahe

There are not only Lihe, Xiahe

and Weishui

.

p>

The river is the cloud returning home, and the cloud is

the wandering river

.

In some seasons, there is a lot of rain

Rain is like a train without a platform in the middle

One trip after another

The river entering my hometown

Written by Si Zhihua (Shandong)

A jar of wine

Buried shallowly in the corner of the courtyard

Containing water, corn, and sorghum from my hometown

Old houses, ancient streets, and songs of childhood

.

You said

I want to go to a distant place wrapped in the fragrance of wine

Seal my thoughts in the sun and the moon and store them

Capture the mellow fragrance when you are lonely

Slowly cover the coldness of enthusiasm in the long night

Nostalgia flows deep in the soul

Soaked in the rush of every day Steps

.

Read the length and shortness of time

Clocks have no numbers other than 12

No answer is sent to you

p>

The artistic conception as beautiful as peach blossoms

The wind carries it to you, carrying your pale journey

Paint it, but I still want it

The fragrance of the flower touches you Your memory

That night when you were drunk in your hometown

.

New Year’s Eve

The aroma of stored wine filled the gaps in the village

p>

Do you smell it? Faraway Wanderer

This fragrance is splashed on your way back

The overflow of spring

Text/Hualing

The snow is still on the road , and I am ready to spend the winter. As far as I can see, the grass and trees are yellowing, the wilderness is far away, and in autumn, only the back is left.

On the crumbling horizon, who is playing the strings of the annual rings? The setting sun, cloud shadows and distant mountains are already haggard!

Memories are an endless road. Before the severe cold comes, everything in the past becomes an illusion and is connected in the depths of the mind. The past events of spring, summer and autumn are always chattering in my mind as I look back on them. I can’t untie the entanglement, and I can’t change the flow of time.

In the long journey of life, it doesn’t matter how many roads you have traveled, but how much scenery you have left behind. Because the clearest footprints in life are always printed in the roughest mud. Even if fate is to be the worst screenwriter, you have to be the best actor.

Like this winter cloud that changes suddenly, premonitions always come to you suddenly, and there is no way to capture solid beliefs. My soul is like a blazing flame, but it cannot touch the thin clothes of ideals; my proud red lips are never willing to utter a word of white mercy.

People do not die when they deserve to die, but when they can die. After a season of flowering, growth and withering, you have hated those people, but in the end you have ended up like them! It is difficult to solve hundreds of knots and soft intestines with one's own warm blood. The only thing that survives is the courage to defeat everything. If you can't get out of your memories, you can't win the future!

Before the end of my life, I had two relatives, shadow and loneliness. Shadows approach me in the light, and loneliness turns toward me in the darkness.

The pain that people suffer all comes from themselves. After the glory of life, the rest of your life must be paid for by loneliness. When you are in a high position, how to come down gracefully will show your wisdom. Loneliness is the only outlet for loneliness. Don't try to break your loneliness in any way, but find an appropriate way to stay alone. Night is not a good medicine for insomnia. Your heart must be broad enough to tolerate night. Only those who are willing to remain silent can understand the true meaning of life.

The reason why the distance becomes a distance is because we cannot reach it. Since death is inevitable for everyone, let life bloom briefly.

Time can make everything disappear, but it cannot stop itself. When did the blade of time become so sharp? It’s all because you and I realized that we are about to grow old. Don't be a coward and cry between the gears of the clock. Sometimes I want to sink myself into sadness, but I always forget the sadness with a wry smile. There is no obstacle at the feet of the brave, let us go without hesitation.

Once the snow falls, white swans will fill the wilderness. The night is still tightly wrapped around the future, and Yiyi is groping forward in the darkness.

The thick tree trunks bare their leaves just to bear more weight. The majestic earth is unobstructed, leaving only a clean soul. When the sheep carry the white clouds away, when the smoke rises in the direction of the wind, and let the snow fall, let us look for the answer in the winter of the season.

When the white snow is heavy on this city, I would like to hold the hand of neon lights and walk through the whole street like a diligent night watchman, and then sit under the lights in the early morning. Next, write a poem to warm the night. In the fingers of time, it flows like a stream of snow water, converging to the final sound.

Facing the sea, looking for light with black eyes. The Reading Poetry Club was founded on November 16, 2015. The poetry club has the mission of "giving voice to grassroots poets" and the purpose of promoting the "spirit of poetry", that is, the pursuit of truth, goodness and beauty in poetry, the artistic innovation of poetry, and the spiritual joy of poetry. The collections of poems co-authored by poet friends have been published: "Selected Poems on Reading and Sleeping: Spring Flowers Bloom" and "Selected Poems on Reading and Sleeping: Grass Grows and Orioles Fly".