You are the only one for me.
The fluorescent lamp on my forehead
Your light
From the late rain.
From the candlelight in the west window.
or
A poet who woke up from a dream.
On the dwarf pine mountain I'm worried about
alternately
After ten years of life and death in the bright moon.
therefore
The light turned into mulberry leaves.
I became an autumn silkworm.
Chew your fragrance carefully.
spinning
cocoon
tutor oneself
pupate
Imprisoned in his own prison
until
Your smile overflows from the light.
I'm a moth emerging from a cocoon.
Dance with wings
forwardly
Hit one's head against the lamp
And die slowly.
When I think of you
You are a lamp.
1October 24th 10
Memory attic
Childhood memory
It is said that it is to recall the road behind.
The attic of the old house is a small post station on the roadside of my house.
Walk past the old gate bridge where Ma Yongzhen sells artworks.
Cross the gravel road
Step on the steep escalator
That was the most emotional look when I looked back.
A small attic hanging from the roof
As small as a bird's nest hanging high in a tree.
I should be a chicken.
Looking up at the place where you will fly forever in the future.
At that time, I always wanted to open the tiger window.
The sky is suddenly so close to me.
Close enough to reach out and take off the pigeons next door.
The most beautiful one
The sunset is coming.
Let every piece of rubble on the roof
There was a strange golden light shining in front of the tiger window.
At that time, I could see through the surrounding low buildings.
See every roof from the sixteenth shop to the Tilan Bridge.
Decorated with reflections in the attic and tiger windows.
The attic and I have been like a lifetime ago.
Occasionally pass by the alley of old Zhabei.
My heart is always excited to jump out of my throat.
Look up.
Excuse me, who can order the clock to go back?
The little boy wants to snuggle up to his grandmother.
Listen to Wu Nong's whisper
Lost the attic
After that, I lost my childhood.
If you look back,
What else can I have?
eat Zongzi
There are many zongzi in the refrigerator.
Meat, red beans and even egg yolk.
I dare not enjoy it alone.
Because now they should be buried in the fish's stomach.
Just like Dr. San Lv slept in the Miluo River.
The shape of zongzi is also very strange.
Sleep under the bondage of a rope
Reluctant to peel off layers of bamboo leaves.
Once peeled off, who can remember?
Mourning and national mourning
Along with that heavy stone.
Dr. Qu seems to have been lying in my heart.
Once the rice grains of zongzi pass through my stomach.
I'll be with him, too
Look up Tian Wen.
The national flag was raised in the stadium.
I bet.
The light of these five stars
Must have lit up the night sky of the whole city.
Illuminated 80,000 hearts in the stadium.
And160,000 eyes
I envy
Those three soldiers are as young as me.
Deep in Nie Er's melody
They are bigger and bigger than the huge stands.
I am very happy
My position at the moment
I can even measure it accurately.
Right angle of 80 thousand backbone
Saddle-shaped sky over the stadium
Compared with this burning flag
It was so dim and groggy.
Where are the stars in the sky?
Yes, they all gave in wisely.
Five gold stars in the stadium
Someone who wants to run and sprint for her
People who fight for her
Did you hear me clearly?
The call of this flag
Yang's arrow
Yang raises a doctor.
Facing the willow leaves dancing a hundred paces away
Only arrows can talk.
In order to stop the wanton provocation of the target.
Nowadays, the arrow of raising a doctor is only famous in history books.
And our Gong Xuan.
Is it broken?
A hundred paces away, even in a short distance.
Some things should have been true long ago.
Smash the ground to pieces.
But openly believe in the law.
It's time for me to grope for the doctor's arrow.
With Yang's strong arm.
Replace ten fingers painted with Danko.
With a huge carving bow.
Replace it with a gentle and intimate cover.
Use sharp arrows.
Instead of a pen to write tears.
That piece was in Dr. Yang's field of vision.
Willow dancing freely.
Will bend like a month's attack
Bring someone to justice
The meaning of aiming is to reach the target directly.
I hunched over.
Same shape as the doctor's arrow.
Shoot an arrow from the heart.
Knock on the computer screen
Scared a willow tree outside the door
brick
Bricks are burnt mud.
Two bricks are pairs of toy building blocks.
Ten bricks are bricks themselves.
A thousand bricks is a wall.
Then there is our dream home.
Shan Ye in the north alone has 10 million bricks.
It's called the Great Wall.
Bricks are the firstborn of the earth.
It happened that a fire broke out.
Birth is death.
We came in second.
Fortunately, I still live with them.
There is actually no feeling between bricks.
The reason why I hold it so tightly.
Because the responsibility as a brick.
Is to support each other with another piece
Brick owners always want to rely on bricks.
To stabilize their heels and even the country.
Longer than a short-lived master
Usually the brick itself.
For example, Qin bricks, such as Hanwa.
For example, every work on Badaling.
Bricks and bricks are very durable.
Erect a clay monument
If bricks give me honor.
I am the bottom piece.
Li Bai's dream
A glass of wine is still wine in front of drunkards.
In front of Li Bai is a piece of paper to write poems.
A sword is always a sword in the hands of a swordsman.
Li Bai has a pen for writing poems in his hand.
A poem is in the poetry population of this century.
This is a branch of Chinese characters.
That's what Li Bai calls a dream.
Don't imagine Li Bai's dream as a poem.
The distance from Baidicheng to Jiangling in nonsense
It is measured by the cry of an ape.
Standard Sichuan dialect.
It is the most affectionate mother tongue in Li Bai's dream.
Shu Dao ringing above the blue sky
Imagine Li Bai's dream.
Like putting on his walking shoes.
Carrying his bag.
Pick up one of his troubles
Put a stamp on it and send it to the moon.
With the back of Wang Changling.
The sultry night wind is sent to the west of Yelang.
Sleepwalking is always Li Bai's patent.
A Thousand-Li Post Road between Shandong Peninsula and Zhejiang
sleepwalk
See the sea and the sun from half Tianmu Mountain.
Rising in the singing of Long song flying.
The Yangtze River is in Dangtu.
Through the luckiest part
Not only contains a bright moon
It also accommodates poets who capture the bright moon
Mirror flower hidden moon is the same as Li Bai's heart.
1200 years later,
The process of talking again.
I am with a river.
Between a river and me.
Tell many stories to each other.
As a collection of novels
Published in the hinterland of Shanghai
Maybe I am the birthmark of this river.
Burning on the river bank forever
Maybe I am a tear in this river.
I want to slip away but always hang it on my cheek.
Maybe I am the only child in this river.
How far is it to wander like a wanderer?
I'll never get out of my mother's needle and thread.
I have to admit, I am intoxicated.
Ten thousand customs of a river
Is it a long-term fate?
From the day I fell to the ground
Put me with a river.
Tie a tight knot.
I have lived in a mild country for a long time.
It's easy to be a prisoner sleeping in a bed.
Hesitated by a river for too many years.
Will it become a fish that can't swim?
Just like the empty life in this river.
I really don't want to.
Be a prisoner of happiness
Mom.
When you see my distant footprints
Never be sad.
For Yin Fu.
Facing Yin Fu's Poetry
Is to face his twenty-one-year-old face
In the sunshine of old Shanghai
Yin Fu is writing at his desk like no one's watching.
Me too. We met face to face.
It's like putting up a mirror in front of me.
193 1 year Yin Fu was twenty-one years old.
This is the year on his tombstone.
February 7(th)
God knows whether it will be sunny or cloudy.
It only takes one bullet to solve the problem.
But no one can say for sure that on Yin Fu's chest.
How many bullet holes are there?
I conclude that the hands of the firing squad with guns are constantly shaking.
through
When the sun is not as high as the top of Longhua Tower
The dull sound of bullets floated in the morning fog.
Woke up the birds nesting in the spire
The way birds take off.
That was Yin Fu's last look in twenty-one years.
Then, the gunfire drove the birds away.
Everything happened in front of Longhua Tower.
The spring of 193 1 comes early.
The peach blossoms in Longhua are happily sucking Yin Fu's blood.
These plasmas have a poetic rhythm.
Into all the crimson petals
Peach blossom, I accuse
Why did you drive more beautifully that year than at any other time?
Under a dark cloud
A whole cloud is a besieged army.
Drums sounded and flags fluttered.
Hundreds of soldiers lined up.
Arrows cover the sky and the sun.
Send Shanghai back to the ancient battlefield
Ancient besieged cities
Usually, you always decide to surrender or fight first.
I pray for Shanghai.
Never pulled a white flag.
Then blood and meat rose on the wall.
Then surround and not attack.
Someone is gnawing at the bark.
Even the shocking story of changing food for children.
Finally, autumn nights are crowded with people.
Shanghai crouched under a whole cloud, shivering.
Run out of ammunition, bare chest and breasts.
An unguarded fortress
What are you resisting?
This is the last moment of suffocation
Breakthrough or death.
Can't see the air moldy and rusty.
We can't watch this city die.
I can't imagine the sun being murdered by this cloud.
Although a whole cloud doesn't speak my language.
But he is as stubborn as I am.
Listen to me. Either you come down and fight with me.
Either get out of here and make way for the sun.
Meet a poet
Just like a farmer in the Tang Dynasty met Li Bai.
Russian soldiers met Pushkin.
He can write poetry in a hundred paces.
I am the only one of the boys and girls who knows.
We are going to meet a poet.
Sparrows look up at eagles in the sky.
Will always remember those huge wings.
The eagle looked down at the sparrow and sent it away.
Meet a poet
Doesn't mean the poet met me.
From the poet's eyes
Open the treasure of the Thousand and One Nights
God gives me a day and a night every day.
And divide it into three parts fairly.
Live by sweat and blood
A pause in poetry
And dreams of inspiration.
I'd rather only know his name and his poems.
I keep silent in the face of poets.
Tonight around the stars that belong to him.
Which one is mine?
blue whale
The blue whale is the darling of the ocean.
And an outcast of the ocean.
The blue whale is the eldest son of the ocean.
And then exiled by civilization.
His last blue whale in the Pacific Ocean.
Wandering alone south of the Bering Strait
Northern Antarctic continent
179.98 million square kilometers
He is looking for her.
Coral sea blue whale cemetery
Since 10 million years ago
100 million bones piled up like mountains.
This is the most spectacular family cemetery on earth.
No tombstone or eulogy.
Only him
The eldest son and last heir of the ocean.
Come here to pay tribute
The spirits of ancestors wandered around him.
He understands the meaning of his existence.
He's leaving, leaving the Pacific Ocean.
For him, this is just a prison without bars.
He dodged the steps of the explorers.
Through strait of magellan.
He lives on the ridge of the Atlantic ridge.
Sing an old song
In ancient times, blue whales roamed in groups.
They sang together.
At the bottom of the ancient Mediterranean
At the top of the Himalayas, it has not yet risen to the surface.
The Blue Whale Dynasty-the Master of Three-fourths of the Earth
He is the only one today.
The notes are scattered with the Atlantic warm current.
He's waiting-
Listen, he heard you.
Deep in the Bermuda Basin
He heard her response.
This is her last blue whale at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.
An affectionate elegy for him
For the eldest son of the sea
The last two blue whales on earth
Meet again
From then on, they are the masters of the blue world.
In the narrow strait of Gibraltar
They whispered their thoughts to each other.
Crossing the ice from the Antarctic Circle
Play with 1000 penguins.
Passing through five sunken aircraft carriers.
It seems that they are the fifth and sixth ships.
They fantasize
A history of family reconstruction
The future of the blue world
Until a sunny noon
They spewed out two huge columns of water—
This is fatal.
Beautiful water column by whaling captain
Catch sharp and cold eyes
This is a massacre.
The slaughter of marine civilization by land civilization
The darling of the earth destroyed the eldest son of the sea.
Blue whale. They are surrounded.
They have no way out.
They are waiting to die.
She's dead.
A little life is ready to go.
That is the eldest son of the eldest son of the sea.
The future leader of the blue world
The fetus dies in the womb-a plan/plot/scheme is stillborn.
On the damn deck
He escaped.
With that old lamentation
With the curse of the ocean
With the future disaster of mankind.
Please allow me to cry, sea.
If you come to the seaside,
Please listen carefully to the tide.
From the depths of every wave
Listen to a sad song.
From the center of the ocean
There is an ancient blue whale dynasty in the song.
There is still a massacre going on at noon today.
If you are human,
Please close your eyes and repent.
If you open your eyes, you will find.
The sea is blood red.
Maybe in a hundred years.
No one will tell this story again.
Diaphragm and flute
Between reeds
I heard half a reed pole left.
Crying spread in the wind.
Break a reed
Maybe this is a cruel thing.
Maybe it can save a dead bamboo.
Bamboo was also dismembered.
Eight bullet holes were exposed.
Lying on the execution ground of music
It's a secret.
The flute membrane loves the flute deeply.
Like a reed by the water.
I took a fancy to the bamboo in the distant mountains.
Only after they were brutally executed.
Get together.
Until my lips
Stick a flute hole warmly.
The airflow swirled in the flute body.
Wake up the flute membrane that hugs the flute tightly
A couple were buried together after their death.
Revive under the call of notes
So the tragedy of reeds and bamboos ended.
This love that came back from the dead
Gave birth to their son.
Deliver from a flute hole
The ring is wrapped in a staff.
Witness you and me and tell the world.
The legend of the flute and the flute
Mother-in-law tattoo
I want to celebrate maternal love.
But I can't find fresh material.
Sew a cold coat before the traveler leaves.
The wanderer comes back and cooks a pot of fragrant tea.
Usually this is what mom's hands often do.
It happened that in medieval China, the Central Plains
A pair of middle-aged mother's hands
It happened that in the dynasty when women became men.
Behind a young man's back
There is a needle and a few drops of vinegar.
Burst with two strands of blood.
Write four Chinese characters
Illuminated a bleak history of the Song Dynasty.
Qin Gui has knelt in front of yue fei.
Zhao Gou's name is synonymous with calcium deficiency.
Who should I complain to?
I just want to complain about the charm of Lin 'an.
Sue Xizihu, sue San Tan Yin Yue.
Sue Xiaogushan, sue Fengbo Pavilion.
It can accommodate literati of several dynasties.
Dozens of poems in the rice paper room in front of the powder wall
But there is no room for four words on Yue Fei's back.
I accuse
In countless words with a history of 25 years.
I wonder if there are these four words.
I wonder if I can write twenty-six histories.
Write these four words on each page with a needle and vinegar.
It is displayed in the rightmost column of the bookshelf.
Support the full set of General History of China.
dust
Everyone is a speck of dust
The wind of dreams takes us off the ground.
Every speck of dust is a waif.
The dream wind sent us back to the ground.
This and that.
Fly down.
Each one penetrates the gap of sunlight.
We can find each other.
There is too much dust.
As light as life.
A windless day
We overlap and precipitate each other.
Hugs are intimate reunions are happy.
So spend the time of my life.
Until I got tired of my position
On a windy day
We lost each other and got rid of each other.
Separation is free, and flying is comfortable.
Wandering alone all my life
Until I can't remember my place anymore
Every dust must be precipitated.
Every time the roof falls, it will return to the sky.
Every time I fly, I pass you.