"I Love This Land"

If I were a bird,

I should also sing with a hoarse throat:

This land battered by storms,

This river of ever-raging anger,

This angry wind that blows endlessly,

And the extremely gentle dawn from the forest...

——Then I died,

Even the feathers rotted in the earth.

Why do I always have tears in my eyes?

Because I love this land deeply...

"Winter Pond"

Winter Pond,

As lonely as The heart of the old man——

A heart that has experienced the bitterness of the world;

The pond in winter,

as dry as the eyes of the old man——

Eyes that have lost their brilliance due to hard work;

Winter swamps,

are as barren as an old man’s hair—

like frost grass Sparse and gray hair

The winter swamp,

gloomy like a sad old man——

The old man hunched under the gloomy sky.

"Handcart"

In the area where the Yellow River flows

On countless dry river bottoms

Handcart

With the only wheel

Make a high-pitched sound that makes the dark sky convulse

Bud through the cold and silence

From the foot of this mountain

At the foot of that mountain

Resoundingly

The sorrow of the people in the North

In the frozen days of ice and snow

In the poor Between small villages

The handcart

with separate wheels

carves deep tracks on the gray-yellow soil layer

Through vastness and desert

From this road

to that road

Intertwined with the sorrow of the people of the North

>

《Tree》

One tree, one tree

Standing isolated from each other

Wind and air

Telling their distance

But under the cover of soil

Their roots grow

Invisible depths

They entangle their roots

"To the Sun"

In the morning, I wake up from my sleep,

I am happy to see your brilliance;< /p>

——Although I was still sleepy last night,

and was plagued by countless nightmares.

Your fresh, gentle, bright and clean radiance,

shines on my window that has not been opened for a long time,

coating the window paper with a light yellow color like pollen,

Embedded in light blue and neat grid shadows,

I was filled with gratitude, got up from the bed,

opened the windows and doors that had been closed all winter. ,

Let you spread the bright tablecloth made of pure gold silk on my table by the window.

So, I was surprised to see you:

Such a truth that leaves no room for doubt.

You are standing on the top of the mountain opposite,

And smile so brightly.

I opened my eyes hard to look at you,

I longed to capture your image,

How intense, how trance-like, how solemn!

Your light hurts my pupils.

O sun, you immortal philosopher,

You bring happiness to the world,

Even the most unfortunate person sees you,

I also feel your comfort in my heart.

You are the forger of time,

The gilder of a beautiful life;

You cast the days into countless golden wheels,

Flying on the ancient wasteland...

If it weren't for you, the sun,

all life would be crawling in the darkness,

even if it has wings, it can only Like a bat

flying in the eternal night.

I love you like people love their mothers.

You nurture my concepts and thoughts with light and heat——

Enable me to live passionately and for Ideal and painful,

until my life is taken away by death.

After a long and lonely winter,

Today, I want to go up to the top of the mountain,

Take off my clothes and be naked,

Bath my soul in your radiance...

"The Lost Years"

It's not like the lost baggage

You can find it at the lost and found office Come back,

The lost years

I don’t even know where they were lost -

Some of them disappeared piecemeal.

Some have been lost for ten or twenty years,

Some have been lost in noisy cities,

Some have been lost in distant wilderness,

Some are in crowded stations,

Some are deserted under small oil lamps;

What is lost is not like a piece of paper, you can pick it up

It’s more like a bowl of water dropped to the ground

It has been dried in the sun, and there is no shadow;

Time is a flowing liquid——

Use It cannot be salvaged with sieves or nets;

Time cannot become a solid,

it would be better to become a fossil,

even if it takes tens of thousands of years i can also be found in rock formations

Time is also like a gas,

like the smoke from a speeding train!

The lost years are like a friend.

The contact has been cut off, and after some suffering,

Suddenly got the news; talk about him

Having long since left this world

"Bonsai"

They all seem to be relics from ancient times

The plants here have become minerals

The trunk is made of bronze, and the handle is made of iron wire

Even the leaves are copper-green in color

In the antique courtyard

Not cold in winter, not hot in summer

The use of rosewood and mahogany shelves

shows their prominence

In fact, they are all unfortunate products

have long lost their true character

In various flower pots

Suffering oppression and injustice

Every process of growth

There are The entanglement of wires and the torture of knives and scissors

At the mercy of others, unable to stretch freely

Part of the development, part of the shrinkage

Using imbalance as the standard

Mutilated models,

like old people with rickety roofs,

boasting grimaces and deformities

Some have their abdomens protruding.

Some have exposed roots

Leaving a few curved twigs

Sesame-sized leaves indicate youth

Like A group of war-torn wounded soldiers

support each and every crippled life

However, all flowers and trees

must have their own world

Roots absorb nutrients from the soil

Branches and leaves bear rain, dew and sunlight

Stretch freely and develop normally

Feeling comfortable under the sky

Accept the caress of nature

Emit their own fragrance

Now everything is reversed

The young are getting older and the old are getting smaller

In order to satisfy people's curiosity

To flaunt the skills of flower growers

The softness can be twisted around the fingers and distorted

The grass and trees are speechless but with axes and knives< /p>

Maybe this is also a kind of art

But it is full of ridicule of freedom