Author: Takano
September.
It blooms and withers.
Like a heart full of love.
Half in the water and half in the fire.
The cycle of September
Only you can't be redeemed.
It's just that my sadness is unprecedented.
I stand under the vast sky.
Seeing the ideal of Varan is as white as ever.
The fruit bent the branches.
I like the weight of time and the outline of love.
Show up there.
Dusk pavement
Full of golden light. The way they woke up in the wind.
Such as meaningful scales.
Embedded in the sweet shoulder.
Infinitely cool in the morning.
Stagnation in the quiet grass tip. I like being hugged alone.
Better than being illuminated by the afternoon sun.
I like being hollowed out by you.
Better than being filled in September.
Talk about creation
I like September. This is a month full of expectations. The fruit is about to mature, and under the cover of green leaves, time seems to have weight. Everything becomes clear, and gradually find their own position and belonging. When the truth comes out, there is always infinite coolness. The sky is high and the clouds are light, but it is not enough for us to release our inner loneliness. The bird flew high and went to the south in the blink of an eye. Just like that year, you disappeared into the blue sky like a bird. The white clouds are long, and it is a few years in a blink of an eye. And your shadow is fire, which illuminates the whole universe. Always in the dead of night, I think of those quiet days. Prosperity and stability are closely linked with your fingers. Countless leaves and soft light will hang down and fall on our shoulders. The door to the fairy tale world can be opened with a push. A splendid palace is always waiting for us quietly. Every time I think that those lost times will never come back, I can't help hugging myself.
Gao Ye was born in 1982 in Tongbai, Henan. Now lives in Luoyang. His works have been published in Poetry Magazine, Stars, Poetry Monthly, Poetry Selected Magazine, Prose Poetry, Poetry Forest, China Poetry and other publications. Editor in chief of Wild Poetry.
Image: Network