Tuesday, December 29, 2021 The cold wave has passed and the sun is warm
Seriously, I don't know rhymes, I don't know how to write poetry, but in the days of quitting smoking for 11 days, I learned a celebrity, wrote a few words to commemorate my 34 years of smoking history, and sighed about the past and present lives of cigarettes - this is also an elegant act, right? Even if it's vassal style, we don't need to pay so much attention, right?
So, please enjoy the following little poem - foolish dreams are like smoke
A long time ago,
In the wilderness of the Americas,
tobacco
Once innocently bloomed,
Pure, enchanting,
Bloom like harmless flowers,
An Indian wizard with feathers on his head,
will light sun-dried tobacco leaves,
Then, in the mist of the ethereal rising smoke,
See the appearance of the gods in the sky.
All the gods,
None of them told the Indians:
A white man named Columbus
will set foot on the land of the Americas,
And in the fog of tobacco,
Become the devil's B side.
His disciples will be loaded with tobacco,
Return to Europe with the devil.
When the white smoke of black mass drifts in the sky,
The Pope could not stop the devil from wandering.
Someone would put on a black robe,
Holding up the holy cross,
Ride on a smoking monster
The seaports of the world,
Let there be no longer a long period of peace in the world.
Even the most rigorous gentleman and the most elegant lady,
Even if they are disciples of God,
Unless you have a physique far from the demons,
and ignoring the genes of the skeleton in the smoke fog,
You'll all get hooked on the white smoke that drifts away.
Look
Even Churchill fell in love with cigars,
Indulge in the psychedelic incense of Romeo and Juliet.
Even Roosevelt was intoxicated with cigarettes,
There is no escape from the camel card with the fragrance of the curse.
When I want to quit smoking,
The past days have been me,
Finely cut and cut, rolled and rolled,
Lit, sucked,
34 years of silence,
It's true
On the foolishness of the world,
The Yi people bury flowers, the most unworthy.
On the past,
Like a dream, there is nothing more than smoke!