Sun Yanbo: "Fiery Blessings Light Up the Heart Void"!

Flying snow, erecting wings to return home

◎Condensation

Flowers blossom and fall, sigh, time flies. The snow that flies sets up the wings of the new year's homecoming.

Home, embedded in my thick eyes. Thinking of my mother, tears rolled and cried out in pain.

Over thousands of mountains and rivers, the quiet world, a call to accelerate the hope of returning home.

The years are crazy, and they can't fill the bags that are wandering the world.

The thread that was clutching bitterly, bounced and bounced.

Without the sorrow of the rings of the year, whose time is old, and whose heart is burned?

Borrow a faint moonlight and gaze into the distance. Miss, how much loneliness and sorrow have been broken?

Cut a romantic song and savor the aroma of tea that never sleeps tonight.

The afterglow is lingering, who stirs up the past that has been precipitated for a long time, and the tears fall into a line...

The road is accompanied by exhaustion, dragged by time.

Mu Ne's smile and busy figure weave through the crowds of the city.

Time blurs the memory, and vague thoughts creep into the warm mind.

Fingertips glided over grains of text, and keyboards woke up a homesick bridge.

The mast that ties dreams to the hometown, the festive red lantern, is the beacon of the wanderer.

Watch the sun, moon, and stars go in and out of a piece of paper, and a string of fiery red blessings lights up the heart.

Stomach buds in the dark, in insanity.

Mom's sticky bean bun makes the homesickness night taste more long.

Harmonious rhymes with feet, full of blood.

Open the strange and restrained cover, and one snowflake after another blooms.

The petals are engraved, one by one gentle memories.

With the silver of winter, feed the earth and feed the long-lost affection.

The stars are still hurrying, and I am galloping non-stop in a poem.

Step on the snow to find plums, chew the vicissitudes of the mulberry field from the text.

Dipped in wet feelings, warm up the lines of dancing chapters.

Whoever knows the magic of the sky, overnight the world becomes a beautiful fairy tale.

The bells of the New Year's Eve sounded, and the eyes were full of upside-down blessing words, and prayers began between heaven and earth.

Time, every second of the diffuse. The belonging of the soul is surging like a tide, the clean water is lightly sprinkled, and the dust is reborn.

Chunlian stands as the most beautiful charm of the Chinese New Year.

The countdown bells come with the rhyme of the New Year.

In the depths of the soul, layers of happiness are meandering...

【About the Author】

Sun Yanbo, pen name Yi Ning. He is a member of the Chinese Prose Literature Society, the Chinese Poetry Society, the Chinese Poetry Society, and the Jilin Writers Association. Managing Director of Writers Literature Magazine and Executive Editor of Writers Literature.