[Introduction] 1. There are more than 40,000 severed fingers in the Pearl River Delta. I often wonder how long they would be if they were all arranged in a straight line, but my thin pen and ink cannot describe any of them. Cut off the roots and join them together. 2. At the bottom, I sometimes wonder whether I will be analyzed by these silent societies and become a part of a certain system. I only hope

1. There are more than 40,000 severed fingers in the Pearl River Delta , I often wonder how long they would be if they were placed in a straight line, but the thin pen and ink of my pen cannot connect any broken fingers.

2. At the bottom, I sometimes wonder whether I will be analyzed by these silent societies and become a part of a certain system. I only hope that I will not be paralyzed and my howl will become silent. of surrender.

3. I don’t know what light or darkness is, I only see the end. My poetry is gray because my world is gray.

4. Only by being tortured can one understand that the so-called excessiveness "is the roar of being slashed by someone."

5. If it is fate, we have pure fragility and easily dangerous sensitivity in this era, and every word cannot remain as strong as before in the face of power and desire.

6. I was scolded behind my back by someone saying *** "Northern girl/This toy-like city did not wear ***/The wind of desire touched the bottom of its skirt" It floated up/its bare buttocks exposed/let me, a northern girl, have wild dreams!

7. I saw the girls entering the workshop becoming roles in the assembly line every day, becoming part of the assembly line. department. Like them, I am gradually losing myself. Sometimes I feel sad about the loss and suffer from the emotion. But as individuals, we are so soft and fragile in the assembly line-like reality, because this kind of fragility and tenderness makes us sensitive to reality. This sensitivity is the origin of our pain, and they spread bit by bit, Filled my heart, calling and resisting deep in my heart.

8. Don’t use your mind to stop the arrogant power in your body/Lightning is asking the sky and the camel is passing through the pinhole/The sea is returning The vanishing comet on the dewy path/Sinking into the dark body mortar to pile up flammable substances/They have been tortured by life like wet gunpowder/Full of fatigue, these blackened particles/Like sorrow accumulated in the humiliator's body The real heat of the soul/continuously baking hot tears overflow.

9. Every day/I walk slowly in the pond of memory/in the center of nostalgia/actually/a standing lotus/wafting out a faint Under the fragrant incandescent lamp/my youth is like falling wood/scattered like iron filings/pieces falling to the ground/the ground is mottled/looking up and seeing/iron/growing in the body

　10. Unpredictable destiny is coming Calming down from the fire/its searing pain, the bitten iron breaks silently/old things and pain quietly condense, like hands/holding tightly the memories that have lost weight/the drawings that bow their heads may quickly fall like drops of water / The bright iron is dimming, I can't tell who / the tiny fire is the tender green in the heart, shining tinyly / its fluffy light, like love in wandering / weak and firm, suffering from wandering The fate and the crowd are being forged by the furnace of time.

Now my tired heart/needs these faint lights to shine/in the darkness, it is no longer timid or afraid.

11. That hungry machine is shining every day After eating iron, blueprints/stars, dew, salty sweat, it repeatedly picks its teeth/spits out profits, banknotes, wine...it sees broken fingers

12. I put my The body and soul are settled in this small town/its lychee forest, its streets, its assembly line and a small booth/its rain-soaked thinking head, time and time again/I am in its On it are placed my ideals, love, dreams, youth/my lover, voice, breath, life/in a foreign land, under its dim street lights/I rush, I am soaked in rain and sweat, panting—— I put my life on plastic products, screws, nails/on a small work card...all my life/ah, I give myself to it, a small village/the wind blows away everything from me / The rest of my old age, go home.

13. It is tired of the sky, it has gray thoughts / Install silver metal or wooden wheels in its body / In fact, it is full of soaring life Hate/It wants to return to the earth to listen to the crow of the cock, the bite of the dog/the leap of the pig, but it can't get rid of this wing/can't get rid of this death, regardless of the season and weather.

14. These small insecurities Known powers/They are in the dark, in the suppressed places of the mind/Get closer to the branches that develop in the body/Their shadows hang in the narrowness/My fear comes from the giant hands in the dark/They don’t know where they are. When and where it reaches out/At unpredictable times, it clings to you like a spider web/I can’t tell their names or its possible origin.

15. I look at the window sill Seeing the twilight sliding down the beach/a face as white as marble, those loves/extending along the curved coastline, they have no end/end and no boundaries, in the cold darkness/loving,

16. I dreamed that you were like a clear moon/disappearing in the luster of the morning. Those were drifting away/to the coast, the magnificent and immersive nights. They were hiding/behind the years. I heard the sound of the waves and filled my memories. .

17. I count the lamps in my body, they illuminate/my poverty and loneliness. According to my luck, I bent down but did not give in.

18. Use poetry to establish inner order and maintain a kind of human kindness and justice; use poetry to resist the harm caused to the heart by the world of power and cost, and preserve human beings’ inner ideals and dignity. Love our inner selves more and more.

19. A poet should be a social provocateur.

20. Suppose that short poems are my thoughts at the moment, while long poems are comprehensive feelings close to reality.

21. Perhaps someone has read the feeling of wailing in my poems, the howling of fragile and sensitive individuals in reality, but for me personally, I care more It is the humiliation brought about by one's own vulnerability in reality.

22. Being able to get closer to the reality and the people at the bottom, as a person who has experienced the bottom, to feel the turbulent bottom, a real factory scene with joy, sorrow, pain and hope.

23. People are so fragile, but in fact they are like hot steel. People will be scratched or burned if they are not careful. The shadow caused by this feeling in the heart is so powerful that it makes people more and more sensitive. As an individual, I am involved in it all the time, and I hope my words can express these feelings keenly.

24. When writing these things, it feels more real as a witness than as a bystander. The feeling of a machine hitting your own hands is different from that of a machine hitting someone else’s hands. The bottom of a coal mine is different from what writers imagine above the mine. The former will be more painful and the experience will be much deeper.

25. When a person is at the bottom of the factory and comes into contact with the most authentic passion and vitality from life, he will deeply feel the struggle, endurance, deformation and distortion in order to survive in the factory.

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