Tear stains of frost and snow
(Group poems)
Hu Zhonghua
Artemisia Stone Forest
Wow screams
No matter how hard it is, you can't be hard, silent heart
A landscape of forests
The moment they touch the blade of the sword
The mist that was shattered into mid-air dissipated
You are deep in thorns and artemisia bushes, solid foundations
Majestic body
Only a small part of the blade is exposed
Face off against the wind and rain
The river surrounds you like a long song
The lapping of the waves is just a scattered praise
The hovering eagle will say what everything is
All the attention
Face your bold abruptness, and cold towering
Feeble
Our flippant and superficial
On your back and shoulders, learn the thickness
You have traveled from antiquity to the present, leading to the future
I bowed or raised my head
You can find the whip of thunder and lightning in your body
Frost and snow tear stains, find the shining
Monument erected
Scene
Say goodbye, golden corn
Heavy rice, and torches
Burn the sorghum with your head down
The fields have sent away all pride and glory
October, allow me to stick to you
Embrace your gradually naked desolation
Although the vines withered, the branches were empty
The wheat straw slowly turns black
Corn stalks trees sigh in the wind
Dry and frigid
Straw holds the last body temperature, hoping for regeneration
Sunflower's thin body stands on the field
In the lonely time
Sparrows can no longer fly into songs
Those things that are going back to the land
Waiting to rot, or to burn
Afternoon at Fort Pine
This afternoon, I was at Fort Pine
Look at the pine cones, how they fall
Intermittently falling pine cones
No pine trees with spring flying pollen
Pine cones falling in the sun
Like a heavy soul, in the wind
Rustling
I faintly smelled its scaly fragrance
It smells of pine resin and age
The flower-winged finch began to chirp
The sound of branches and the light of pine needles
Show shallow happiness
It fell, fell, and seemed to be falling
Like a person who wants to go down vertically
When it touched the ground, there was no roar
There are also no cemeteries and stone tablets
I was amazed deep inside
There was a poem that was smashed out
A dent
(The author works at the Hechuan District Cultural Center)
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