Trolley in the area where the Yellow River flows.
At the bottom of countless dry rivers
trolley
With a wheel
Make a harsh sound and shake the gloomy sky.
Bud overcame cold and silence.
From the foot of the mountain
To the foot of the mountain
Full of noise
The sorrow of the people in the northland
On a cold day
Between poor villages and small villages
trolley
With independent wheels
Deep rutting on the gray loess layer
Across the vast desert
From this road
Which way?
Weave with each other
The sorrow of the people in the northland
The second article is the poet on the northern Horqin grassland
Say to me:
? The north is sad. ?
Not bad,
The north is sad.
Blow from the outside of the plug.
Desert wind,
It's already gone
The Green of Life in the North
And the glory of time,
? Dark grayish yellow,
Covered with a layer of sand fog that can't be opened;
That day, the roar of Pentium,
Brought fear,
like mad
Sweep the land
Desert Yuan Ye
Frozen in the cold wind of October;
This village,
Ancient city,
On the hillside,
Riverbank,
Collapsed walls and deserted graves,
Covered with earthy melancholy.
Lonely pedestrians,
Upper body leaning forward
Cover your cheeks with your hands,
In the wind and sand
Difficulty breathing,
one by one
Struggling forward?
A few donkeys
? Have sad eyes
A beast with tired ears,
Carrying land
The weight of pain,
Their tired footsteps,
go slow
the north
Long and lonely road?
Those rivers have dried up long ago.
Cars were painted on the bottom of the river,
The land and people in the north
yearn for
The fountain that nourishes life!
Withered tree
Low-rise residence,
filmy
Gloomily
Scattered in
Under the gloomy sky;
In the sky,
Can't see the sun,
Only geese form a large group.
Wild geese in chaos,
Flapping its black wings,
Talk about their anxiety and pain,
Escape from this desolate area,
Escape to
Where is the shady South?
The north is sad;
Yellow River in Wan Li
Surging waves,
Go to the vast north
Pour out disasters and misfortunes;
And the wind and frost of the age,
depict
The vast north
Poverty and hunger.
but I ...
? This traveler from the south,
But love this sad northland.
blowing sand
The cold wind is biting,
Never let me curse;
I love this sad land,
The endless desert,
Also aroused my reverence:
? I saw it. ...
Our ancestors
Leading the sheep,
Attack the flute,
Immersed in this desert dusk?
We are moving forward.
Ancient
In the soft loess layer,
Buried with the bones of our ancestors,
? They reclaimed this land,
Thousands of years.
They're here.
Fighting against the nature that has hit them,
They defended the land.
Never been humiliated.
They are dead.
Leave us the land?
I love this sad land,
Its vast and barren land,
Bring us simple words
In a broad posture,
I believe: this speech and gesture
Live strong on the earth,
Never perish;
I love this sad land.
Ancient land,
This land has nurtured
This is what I like.
The hardest thing in the world
The oldest race.
The third snow falls on the land of China, and the snow falls on the land of China.
Is the Cold Current Stopping China?
Wind,
Like a sad old woman.
Follow closely
Stretch out your cold fingers
Pulling a pedestrian's skirt,
As old as your land.
Don't stop talking?
Appear in the forest,
Drive a carriage
You China farmer,
Wearing a fur hat,
Braving the heavy snow
Where are you going?
Tell you
I am also a descendant of farmers?
Because of yours
A face engraved with epileptic wrinkles.
I can go so deep
got it
People living on the grassland
The hardships of years.
but I ...
It's not happier than you.
? Lying on the river of time
A wave of suffering
How many times have you swallowed me and rolled me up?
Vagrancy and imprisonment
I lost the most precious time of my youth,
My life
Like your life.
The same haggard.
Snow fell on the land of China,
Is the Cold Current Stopping China?
By the river on a snowy night,
A small oil lamp moves slowly,
On that tattered Wu Peng boat
Reflect the light and hang your head.
Who is sitting there?
? Ah, you
A dirty little woman,
Is it ... or not
Your home
? A nest of happiness and warmth
An already violent enemy
Did it burn down?
Is it ... or not
On a night like this,
Without the protection of men,
In the fear of death
You were teased by the enemy's bayonet.
On such a cold night.
innumerable
Our elderly mother,
Just like a foreigner
I don't know the wheels of tomorrow.
What kind of journey do you want to embark on?
? and
The Road to China
Is so rugged,
It's too muddy.
Snow falls on the land of China;
Is the Cold Current Stopping China?
Those areas swallowed up by the fire,
Countless land cultivators
Lost their livestock.
Lost their land in Waugh.
squeeze in
In the dirty alley of despair of life;
Hungry earth
Reach out into the dark sky
Begging for help
Trembling arms.
The pain and disaster in China
As vast and long as this snowy night!
Snow fell on the land of China,
Is the Cold Current Stopping China?
China,
Mine is in the dark.
A weak poem.
Can I give you some warmth?
In the fourth era, I stood under the low eaves.
Looking at the barren hills with ecstasy
The high and wide sky,
For a long time, I felt that I felt some kind of miracle.
I saw something flashing.
It inspires my heart like the sun,
With a loud noise on the horizon,
With a storm of screaming,
Rumbling?
I am fascinated by it and cheer for it! ?
When I heard the profile of the snow-capped mountains from the clouds
The bumpy rolling sound of the ship came from the uneven road.
Like the grooms who go to the wedding.
? Even though I know what it brings me.
This is not a holiday carnival.
And some vaudeville laughter.
This is a more cruel sight than a thousand slaughterhouses,
I still ran towards it.
Use the enthusiasm that life can exert.
I'm not weak? I'm not 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 or dark hatred.
And the happiness that people's eyes sparkle because of it.
I feel empty in places you don't know.
Give me a world to live in.
I always open my arms.
I asked to climb the mountain.
I want to cross the sea.
I want to meet higher praise and greater slander.
More unresolved grievances, more deadly blows?
Because I want to rise 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.
Silence before being taken to the execution ground.
I am silent because there is not enough loud language.
Like thunder in early summer through a cloudy sky.
Release my passion to my crazy cry.
Dedicated to something that makes me so excited and surprised.
I love it more than anything I have ever loved.
I am willing to give my life for its arrival.
Pass it from my body to my soul.
I look so humble in front of it.
I even want to lie on my back.
Let its feet step on my chest like a road.
What are the five weir rivers? My nanny Dayan and I are my nanny.
Her name is the name of the village where she was born
She is a child bride,
Dayanhe is my nanny.
I am the son of the landlord;
I also grew up eating milk from Dayan River.
Son of Dayanhe.
Dayan and I raised a family by raising me.
I grew up on your milk,
Dayanhe, my nanny.
Along the river, I saw snow today, which reminds me of you:
Your grave is covered with snow,
Your closed former residence, the dead Wafi on the roof,
The ten-square-foot garden you pawned,
The mossy stone chair in front of your door,
Along the river, I saw the snow today, which reminds me of you.
You hold me in your arms with your big palm and touch me;
After you set up the stove,
After you took the charcoal ash off your apron,
When you taste the cooked rice,
After you put the black sauce bowl on the black table,
After you mended your son's clothes cut by thorns on the hillside,
When you have bandaged the child's hand cut by the firewood knife,
After you strangled the lice on your husband's shirt one by one,
After you picked up your first egg today,
You hold me in your arms with your big palm and touch me.
I am the landlord's son,
After I ate all your milk in Dayan River,
I was taken home by my parents.
Ah, Dayanhe, why are you crying?
I'm a new guest at my parents' house!
I touched the furniture carved with red paint,
I touched the gold pattern on my parents' bed,
I stared at the eaves. I didn't recognize them? Family entertainment? Plaque,
I touched the silk and shell buttons of my new dress.
I looked at my mother's strange sister,
I sat on a kang stool with a brazier painted on it.
I ate milled rice three times,
However, I am so embarrassed! Because I
I became a new guest in my parents' house.
Dayan River, for living,
After she used up all the lotion,
She began to work with her arms hugging me;
She washed our clothes with a smile.
With a smile on her face, she went to the frozen pond near the village with a vegetable basket.
She smiled and cut the radish with ice.
With a smile on her face, she took out the spent grains eaten by pigs with her hands.
She smiled and fanned the fire in the saucepan.
Smiling, she came to the square with a dustpan.
Sun those soybeans and wheat,
Dayan River, for living,
After she used up all the lotion,
She just holds my arm and works.
Wild goose river, deeply in love with her baby;
During the Chinese New Year, I was busy cutting him the candy of that winter rice.
For him, he often goes to his home near her village quietly.
For him, walk up to her and shout? Mom? ,
Dayan River painted his bright red and green Guan Yunchang.
Stick it on the wall next to the stove,
Dayanhe will boast and praise his breasts to his neighbors;
Dayan and had a dream that can't be told:
In the dream, she ate her child's wedding wine,
Sitting in the magnificent celebration hall,
And her beautiful daughter-in-law affectionately called her? Grandma?
Dayanhe, love her baby!
Dayan and died before her dream woke up.
When she died, her breasts were not with her,
When she died, her husband, who usually beat and scolded her, also shed tears for her.
Five sons, all crying sadly,
When she died, she whispered the name of her child.
Dayanhe, dead,
When she died, her breasts were not with her.
Dayanhe, tears streaming down her face!
With the bullying of human life for more than forty years,
The misery of countless slaves,
With a four-dollar coffin and some straws,
There are only a few feet of land to bury the coffin,
With the ashes of a handful of paper money,
Wild goose river, she went away in tears.
This is big research and don't know:
Her drunken husband died,
The eldest son became a bandit,
The second one died in the smoke of gunfire,
Third, fourth and fifth times
And I, I'm writing a spell for this unfair world.
When I returned to my native land after a long wandering,
On the hillside, in the fields,
When the two brothers met, they were closer than they were six or seven years ago!
This, this is for you, quietly sleeping Dayan River.
What you don't know!
Dayanhe, your baby is in prison today.
Write a hymn for you,
Give you the purple soul under the loess,
Reach out to you and hug my hand,
Let you kiss my lips,
What is presented to you is a muddy and gentle face.
It's for you, because you lifted my breasts,
To your sons, my brothers,
To everything on earth,
My big weir nanny and their son,
Dedicated to Da Yanhe who loves me as his own son.
Dayanhe, I grew up eating your milk.
Your son
I respect you.
Love You!
Chapter 6 Li Ming's Common Sense Pray for me
Poet, get up
Please tell them.
Said that what they were waiting for came.
Said I came through the dew
Has been led by the last star.
I come from the east.
From the rough sea
I will bring light to the world.
And will bring warmth to mankind.
Lend you the mouth of an upright man
Please take down my message.
Tell those who are full of longing in their eyes
And distant cities and villages immersed in suffering.
Ask them to welcome me.
Pioneer of day, messenger of light
Open all the windows to welcome you.
Open all the doors. Welcome.
Please whistle to welcome you.
Please blow the horn to welcome.
Ask the cleaner to clean the street.
Please drive a van to remove the garbage.
Let the workers walk in the street with broad steps.
Line up the cars across the square.
Please also wake up the village from the wet fog.
To welcome me, I opened their fence.
Ask the women in the village to open the chicken coop.
Ask the farmers to pull the cows out of the cowshed.
Let them know with your warm mouth.
Said I came from the other side of the mountain, the other side of the forest.
Ask them to clean the threshing floor.
And those patios that are always dirty
Please open the window with the sticker.
Please open the door with Spring Festival couplets.
Please wake up this careful woman.
And the man who snores.
Please let the young lovers get up, too
And those sleepy girls
Please wake up the sleepy mother.
And the baby around him
Please wake everyone up.
Even those sick women.
Even those who are elderly
People groaned in bed.
Even those who were injured in the just war.
And those displaced by the collapse of their hometown.
Please wake up all unfortunate people.
I will also give them comfort.
Please wake up all those who love life.
Workers, technicians and painters
Please welcome the singer with a song.
The sound of grass soaking dew
Please welcome the dancers with dancing.
Put on their white misty dressing gowns.
Please wake up those healthy and beautiful people.
Said I was going to knock on their windows.
Please be a poet who is loyal to time.
News that brings comfort to mankind
Let them prepare for it, let everyone prepare for it.
I will come when the rooster crows for the last time.
Ask them to gaze at the sky with pious eyes.
I will give the kindest light to all who expect me.
Please tell them before the end of tonight.
Said that what they were waiting for came.
Lost years are not like lost luggage.
You can get it back at the lost and found office.
Lost Years
I don't even know where I left it.
Some have disappeared in dribs and drabs.
Some have been lost for ten or twenty years,
Some are lost in the noisy city,
Some are lost in distant wasteland,
Some are crowded stations,
Some are under abandoned small oil lamps;
What is lost is not like a piece of paper, you can pick it up.
More like a bowl of water spilled on the ground.
It is dry and has no shadow;
Time is a flowing liquid?
Cann't afford to salvage with a sieve or net;
Time cannot become a solid,
If only it were a fossil,
Even tens of thousands of years ago, I could find it in the rocks.
Time is like a gas,
Like smoke from the front of a speeding train!
The lost years are like a friend,
Isolated from the world, suffered some hardships,
Get news suddenly; Say that he
Long gone.
Chapter VIII Beggars in the North
Beggars wander on both sides of the Yellow River.
Wandering on both sides of the railway
in the north
Beggars use the most annoying voice
Crying out in pain
Said they were from the disaster area.
From the battlefield
Hunger is terrible.
It deprives the elderly of their humanity.
Young people learn to hate.
in the north
Beggars use stubborn eyes
Staring at you.
See if you are eating.
And the way you pick your teeth with your nails
in the north
The beggar held out a hand that would never retract.
Black hands
I want a copper coin.
For anyone
Even a soldier who can't afford a penny.
When land and land are separated by water,
When roads and roads are cut off by water,
Intelligent human beings stand by and watch the water;
So the bridge came into being.
Humans who have suffered from trekking,
Thanks to this bridge.
Bridge is the connection between land and land;
Bridge is the love of river and road;
The bridge is a station for ships and vehicles to nod their heads;
This bridge is where people wave goodbye to pedestrians by boat.
Article 10 The sun comes from the ancient tomb
From the dark ages
From the other side of the stream of human death
Shake the sleeping mountains
If the steam wheel flies over the sand dunes,
The sun is rolling towards me?
It's hard to hide the light.
Breathe life
Let tall trees and branches dance with it.
Let the river run to it with crazy songs
I heard it when it came.
Insect pupae that sting in winter are spinning underground.
The crowd spoke loudly in the clearing.
A distant city
Call it electricity and steel.
So my heart and chest
Torn by the hand of fire
A stale soul
Abandoned by the river
I have a firm belief in human regeneration.