/f?kz=97014242 All
But water, water
Turn over the Book of Songs
My fingers are like knives
< p>One moment at a timeCut myself
Kanek said to him:
“It’s raining hard, and there will be another rain; Because this is Jayayu. Jaya is not a native, but an Oriental."
(Elmiro Abreu Gomez)
The first site. (Three acts of poetic drama)
The second chapter: fish begets people
The third chapter is the old river course
The fourth chapter is about three things being born
2 The first ruins (a poetic drama in three acts)
The first ruins (a poetic drama in three acts)
The first act
(the background is completely The dry river, four old people sitting like tree roots)
Poet
My hands are soaked with sweat...my hands
soaked Their foreheads
Their thin and dark faces and arms
Their muddy clothes
Their thighs that once bred
Waiting Theirs was a summer...no wind
My hands seemed to hold them
It was like holding one piece of wood after another
Qin Terracotta Warriors
But I have already arrived, sailing in the tragic barcarolle
I have arrived.
Poets
Their sweat overflowed even more
On the hot night, the singers were like clouds... it was puzzling
They They took off their cloth shoes and dipped their feet into the imaginary river
They rubbed their heads, thoughtfully
They sat like this from morning to night
Their dark ribs shimmered in the dusk on the river bank
They washed each other's bodies with the imaginary river water
The voice of the Qin Terracotta Warriors
But I've already arrived. In the Moon
Things are the same before and after. The voices before and after are the same
The poets
are different. The voices
Different
First the voice of a lonely shepherd
The voice of chapped lips
Then the sound of wind and thunder in the Qinling Mountains
Then came the sound of wind and snow in the Qilian Mountains
...the dull sound of the ship's cavity
...the sound of raindrops echoing on the shield
...the sound of the sound of fireflies striking the night followed by the sound of rain hitting humans.
The sound of rain hitting humans. Gunshots in cornfields and thornfields
The sound of snowflakes and breasts. The sound of bugs. The sound of corn leaves
The sound of Qin Terracotta Warriors
But I have already arrived. Dry as earth
Buried up to the neck...buried up to the top of the head
Poets
They are still sweating...the pain of life
< p>It's still going on. There are still women moaning in the cave dwellingThe cry of a lonely beast is heard in the moon
It is the cry of the sun
But there is no sound
p>
The pain is that there is no sound...no sound
The voice of the Qin Terracotta Warriors
I have been buried without sound for how many years
< p>The ewe still hasn't come.Poet
Ewe?
The sound of the Qin Terracotta Warriors
is water. It’s the eyes of those old people
Water is the only one
The pain without sound is the same
Just like there is only one breeze in August
The pain flows in all directions
It just returns to the place where I have lived for a long time. I've arrived
The land beneath my head is like water...not tears
Not tears when thawing
...it's green again
p>
The hand of the tree
I had no choice but to bury myself deeper and deeper under Lishan Mountain
Poet (still confused)
Ewe?
The Voice of Qin Terracotta Warriors
Yes, ewe. Never again
Death is like pottery. Perfect storage
The sky is part of my limbs and dreams
The sky wears the clothes of the dead
Never come again - Ewe< /p>
Buried many strangers coming and going in the river
Never coming again, ewe
What a reassuring burial, everything is by Green grass represents
Love is the same before and after yellow flowers
Falling into the fields
The honest sun walks across the backs of many beasts
Ours Surnames fell into the fields like dust
Poet
But there were stars. Stars and Mars.
The Northern Void Star
With four directions, I have to let my feet move forward...
With the woods around my body
The flesh has to tremble
And there is blood...blood older than bones
The voice of the Qin Terracotta Warriors
Maybe you are right Of
But bones, white flowers. Delicate flowers
The flowers are pale and serene
What a reassuring burial!
A white animal sleeps in the soil, maybe it is
Eternal and unchanged
Pale, that’s because we have lived there
And fell in love, wrote poems praising the plains and then fell on the plains
As silent as a lover
That’s because it’s called a bone
No distinction Day and night
Hear the dead river like a bird flying away
over your head. Ewe, never come again
Poet
But there will be grass
And bird droppings...and the breasts of lovers...and singing of wood
——fingers, thighs, lips
...and beauties as bright as stars, and the setting sun
There are beasts, flowers, and The poet...has a coffin board and a cradle cloth
There is a blind man and a prophet...a woman looking out over the sea
And the first day
The second day and the third day Day
On the fourth day, someone dreamed of my son... My wife was indeed pregnant
... And the well
As for the ewe, I will choose one Days
As it comes, look eastward
The two sides of the plateau are separated...
Act 2
(The background is very dark Far away. By the big river in the south, a group of witches appeared and disappeared on the surrounding dangerous peaks. It was noon when the song came out.)
Leader: Red Fishing Boat
Ringing at noon
Ringing at noon is the sun
Combined: the sun
Collar: white fish body
High Hanging in the evening
The one hanging high in the evening is the moon
Together: the moon
Leader: Qu Ziya
Miluo Miluo's algae Chan Sheng Na
Qu Zi Ya
He: A man.
Leader: He walked gently ashore
Wearing white clothes
Head: A man!
Collar: Gently buckle the side, where will he appear?
On the water or under water, where will he appear?
Together: A man, a man!
Leader: The fish cries in front, the fish cries in the back, the dragon protects the tail
Together: A man! (Pause, then violent outburst)
A man!
Act 3
(The lights are bright. The poet stands like a gorgeous watch, turning sideways, monologue. The old people are like masons digging wells, still like tree roots. The poet is holding the ewe in hand , there seems to be the sound of rain in the background, intermittent)
I come back from the wilderness, from all the rough fingers, from the belly of a woman crying, from my ruins
Coming back from the ashes is like coming back from my heart, holding the ewe in my hand, closing my eyes like bodhi leaves, I am coming back from the wilderness
The pagoda proves, the water pipes in the city prove that I
I don’t want to sing
I didn’t bring seeds, I didn’t bring soil, oxen and plows, I didn’t bring light and the first day fire. No text
was brought. When I came back from the wilderness, I
only thought about one thing: water, water...water of the third day
I am just a tall pool of water, standing here, Stand here.
My clothes protrude like a snake, and people say: The lotus blooms.
Yes, the lotus is blooming. Of course, before the lotus flower bloomed, I was held in everyone's arms... from the song
Back from the hands of those stonemasons who remained silent. I thought over and over again:
Everything will be safe. I come back from the wilderness, I only repeat the things of the East at night
Do these simple things. I need rain
Neither more nor less
I need the moon and the body, I need understanding, and I need loneliness
I think of my wife at night and of digging in the valley. Children of the soil
I thought about it again and again. In the East, birth, nourishment and nurturing are the only things.
The palms of the masons are like lips.
On the land
The poet
Muttered to himself
The whipping snowflakes overflowed the river banks. The river changed its course and returned.
How the wildflowers drift away the lover
The rain and the poet send her back.
I also came back from the wilderness, without bringing seeds or sunshine
I thought about it again and again at night
Looking forward to heavy rain, looking forward to women Give birth to a son
Once born, it will not disappear. I came back from the wilderness, and my blood lasts longer than my bones
Although I don’t bloom, I am more beautiful than time
For a long time... there is a dragon in my body
My limbs become more plump when I fall into the wilderness.
I came back from the rainy year, or
came back from the dry wilderness
I only remember the song:
The hands of stonemasons are like lips.
(The poet staggered down. The old man jumped into the sunset like a child. The cry of a baby was heard in the distance. The sound of rain filled the final stage and curtain like a divine music.
< p>The faces of the audience are like wine glasses, shaking slightly)3 The second chapter is about fish and people*
The second chapter is about fish and people*
Water... …Totems or men’s loneliness before and after the flood
1. Flood 1. Buried fish patterns
Heavy rain extinguished the sun
Escaped ships
Like mouth confinement
The two of them kept the fire silently
No wind blew over their heads
Looking back like yellow bells
No sound
A long tree
Located on the bend of the river
The relatives made three or two calls
Before death
< p>The pain in the distance calls out to the bird's beakIt hurts the skin
The loess sinks
People gather in the water and lie down
Looking in the loess water Fish
It rains for three to five years
Across the water
It doesn’t make any difference if you put fish in your head or put fish in your head throughout your life
The news of the escape came, far away
A lonely fish like me
As if the world has left me
As if the world has left me A lifetime away from me
A lifetime to me
Fish... ...fish
Human cries spit out from the mouth of the fish
Heavy rain extinguishes it The sun
People scattered in all directions and plunged into the water
Black is not dark
White is not chaste
Red is not burning< /p>
The forest
Flows through falsely
The person who eats all the mud
Blocks everything
Outside the face
The sun sank and ashes sank
The silent water flowed thousands of miles
Before returning to the hometown
Some of it flowed away Things
We feel lost
Other flood nights
We seem to have gained something
Women and me
Said lonely.
The seeds were placed on the bedside table
...the water suddenly stopped
The dead people were as if they had just woken up
The sun was all over the ground, still fresh
Joy and pain
Sunshine everywhere is crying
On the water surface
Yingying:
The isolated island on the ground is like a human being
Water and lonely
The melancholy bitter apple flowers have bloomed everywhere
The melancholy bitter apple flowers have bloomed
< p>Deep in the earthMy bones are unbearably sore
The people on the ground said:
Let the sun shine everywhere and gold flow
2. Boat coffin
This is wood. This is the breast
This is the moon. This is the cave arranged by the ancestors
On the blood stains
The arm was broken like a branch
The arm
A crisp sound Sound
The mountains before setting sail
The cave is deep and the people are deeper
This is wood, the mother buried her son for it
>
My father ruined himself
Tearing lightly
These are breasts. This is the moon
Escape from the flood with the beasts
Can't escape the song
This is the cave arranged by the ancestors
I am chasing myself
I entered the cave and entered the song
Without words
I carried my body and wounds
Escape forever into the ranks of descendants< /p>
The arm is broken
The birds are flying on the trees at night
The blood is bright red. Arm
A crisp sound
The beast deep in the cave is thinking alone
His own golden fur in the sun
Dancing around the hunter< /p>
The hole is getting deeper and deeper.
Our first seeds
Rub in. In the flood
One leg reflected the moonlight outside the cave
Later in the snow
A one-legged man appeared
Clear and lonely Footprints
Our first lover
Receded with the flood
The natural sun flows throughout
Our first eyes
Die of thirst in the picture
Wolves surround the summer sun
Stained with blood
The boat is in flames
Brittle and bright like firewood
Burn away our first lives
Water... Water
This is wood.
This is the breast
Suck it like sucking your own plasma
Chestnut tree and tamarind
Euphorbia northern elm
< p>Bury meBury me on the spot at four o'clock tonight
Don't wake up so many people
Please bury me
< p>A bowl of wine. A handful of riceCuckoos will naturally bloom everywhere
Loess dry land
Use your silent body
to treasure me
p>
At around four o'clock in the night
Unbutton
Bury me right there
Bury me in your flesh
With your mother
Treasure me
With your father
With men, bells and loneliness
With kisses, Woman and Ship
I will enter into many eternal
flesh, dark flesh
East
in your bodies
p>
A
huge and huge thing
rotating around himself
maybe called Kunlun.
After the Third Age
He has been silent.
2. People
My head
pierced the sky
There is only a bloody hole left on my shoulder
p>
A hole
Putting Hua Yun
There was blood all along the way
My head
Generation after generation Scroll for generations
Mixed with flesh and blood
Buried in the sky
Only me, Kunlun, remains
This headless body
p>
Standing alone
Seeing the sky and the earth
A sound of nails in the coffin
Rolling from the east
The glow is like blood, rushing out
Stars are dying one after another
Simple
Yet hateful
< p>Boundless beating on the sky...Mother
Mother's painfully twitching abdomen
Finally cracked
Cracked: < /p>
The Yellow River, the tragic river
Rolling from the east
The years are like beasts, the moon is a blood shield
Jump into my broken neck< /p>
Another sun grew
Naked, resisting, and twisting
Bronze and bronze
Rows of lively and bitter< /p>
Girl
Divided blood cells
Bring me my first life
The east is rolling in
Wake up crying
A baby in a land
Flesh and blood
The valley of flesh and blood
A river that divides the world
The Yellow River, the tragic river
I
Kunlun
In the first days of food and clothing
Surrounded by flames and dust< /p>
The navel of the east is beating
The Yellow River, the tragic river
Alive
I am alive
My Breathing: the earth and swamps
Millions of difficult cave bears jumping
My breathing: countless dinosaurs
dancing around my waist
p>
Into layers of ropes
My breath is as dark as a wall
4 Chapter 2 Fish Becomes Humans*
My breath is as dark as an intestine
Countless seeds and music
Wake myself up crying at night
My eyes build temples
My hands rob fire
I have bells hanging from my ears
I am alive
I am on my shoulders
I raise my head to the sun and bend my bones to form a bow
The east is rolling in
Swamped
This plateau in blood
The Yellow River is a tragic river
The Yellow River is tragic The river