Silence, no template
◎ Dragon less
night
The rain hit the glass window, and it was midnight
The street lamps in the courtyard bring a hazy and subtle light
Like a temptation. I didn't turn on the lights
The night belongs to the stars, to them
A calm created by silence
Although not visible now
But they are certainly in their own world
Look down at us, look down at every window
and the slowly growing grass in front of the window
The sound of the wind is very light
I imagined it picking flowers out the window
How to take it lightly, how to get around a flower
The half-opened bone blossoms are like a light purple heart around it
And many times, I passed by the river in my hometown
I would also imagine that the stars had been washed in the flowing water
They look young and make the whole night
All sparkling.
imagination
Stars rise on the hillside at night
And outside the window, the moonlight just happened to become dazzling and quiet
My light green curtains
Permeated with sexy light, swinging above the brown floor
What a wonderful night, the insects will not disturb
There are no flowers to bloom at this moment
I guard my world, and it is a basket of prosperity
I read about my life there, a life that doesn't need to be deliberately changed
Smooth and comfortable, full of plump acorns
I love it at night, handing me some vocabulary from time to time
Let me see, birds, the sea and the quiet clouds of the sea
There should be something else, like a cup of sweet coffee in my dreams
Or a white shirt with dark green buttons.
To Plath
I will also accept it with joy in the days of March
The bright light that came from the garden, those beautiful lights
The dusk is dimmed golden yellow, and the trees are light blue
Walk under the sky, these pure colors
Made up my life. I like it at dusk
Sit quietly at the entrance of the garden and wait for the stars to rise
White fences dot the silent corners
Dear Plath
When I walk among them
Nor am I a beautiful flower in a flowerbed
I saw the grass rubbing against my ankles, constantly tinkering
I was with the gap of the seasons
Let me believe that happiness is also a kind of filling
Believe you "hands full of notes, rising like balloons".
Early summer evening
It's the end of the day, the rivers and mountains outside the fence
Quiet in the sunset light, the sound of the wind passing by
There is also a soft meaning.
My mother and I were in the garden, racking up beans
Then clean up the weeds in the vegetable field one by one
The leaves of the old locust tree are above our heads
Form a thick green, like a compliment
Fall from a higher place.
This is a time to praise
Bright, fast-growing plants run on the dirt
My fingers touched a flowering dandelion
I also need a little color
In the early summer evening, it brightens.
Return
The soil of spring is always fresh, even if it leads to the cemetery
We stepped on the rain and walked back like we were stepping on the blood of the earth
The wind blows through the trees on the side of the road, reflecting the trees
Store in the nearest rainwater. Return from grave sweeping
There was a dark cloud on everyone's face
The rain is mourning for our deceased loved ones
We sat down in front of the coffee table and no one spoke
The boiled water in the glass emits hot air
Silence. No one drank tea.
Maybe our whole life is like being in water
Survive the snow, the rainstorm, and then live through your own tears
Until others return us to the land with tears
Remembering a sunny day, the sun casts a shadow behind us
What a rare moment we use our own shadows
Prove yourself alive and use deep dreams at night
I am convinced that I am also living in death.
Flowing
I heard birdsong, and a muffled sound or two swept by
Like a temptation to the sky
The evening wind also separated its bass zone for me to hear
I stood on the river beach, the arc of the flowing water
Gently wipe Sunset's ankles
What else is flowing gently?
Reeds and grass in the evening sun
It was quiet, and the sheep in the distance were approaching me
The path they walked was a shortcut home for me
I was in a moment like this, nostalgic for an early autumn evening
The beauty that those seasons create
Float in every field in the evening
The vast silence has the joy of the fruit falling to the ground
And I stood, like an acorn
Opened up the solidity of the heart.
Agreement: The end of No no one
My scarf, wrapped around my childhood face
In winter, when the land hardens
Walk through the same desolate wilderness
There are no acorns, ash trees and marmots on the field
The dry branches of one poplar tree lean against the branches of another
Sparrows fly low among the fields
There was no more scattered grain, not even grass seeds
Northwest winds blow from the river channel, bringing a thick layer of ice
And a bitter whistling sound
People are in the house, using charcoal fires for warmth
And the nights, getting longer and longer
Many times, I saw the moonlight slowly rising outside the wooden window
And the cold, pure snow on the ground
I know, I don't have anything to pray about.
In the rain, irises and roses are also beautiful
Can't tell who of them is closer to the taste of summer
When rain falls from the tallest leaves
On the balcony, the buds of the forgotten grass are rounded again
These same time, injected, are named
Being met by strangers. Suppose time has stood still
The low-flying birds moved their eyes to the table
What kind of dinner will I use to give life a smile back
The old tung tree was still falling, and I heard the sound of the flowers falling
Like the sadness that misses in the night, and the silence,
There is always no template.
silence
I heard a crackling sound, like a pony's tail touching the tip of grass
I heard the moonlight in the woods, and the noise of the day was being heard
Wipe a little, the light at the lowest
It is a crevice waiting to be repaired in early autumn
I heard a child in the dark
There was a constant crying, and his mother's angry roar
Together, they set the mood for the night
Make the silence anxious
Later, the long anxiety ended
The sound of the wind wind winding outside the window put the cracks of the branches into my ears
I was awake, like a fictional horse with its hind hooves
Running in the gray of the wilderness, I know
Not a single horse escaped the chase in the meadows
Like my thoughts, I can't graze the stars on the surface of the water
Endless stars, still holding my childhood
Gesture when looking up.
Goodbye
Sometimes, desperately thinking about a person or something
On the balcony, in the courtyard, or in a room that is not spacious
Wanting to live a simple and clear life, the moonlight falls on the eaves
Weeping willows grew old in the autumn wind, years later
Still doesn't need to be perfect.
On the banks of the river, reeds have replaced weeping willows
The surface of the water is empty, like the hidden tears of the earth
How long to stand under the dead branches
Only in order to bravely refuse all giving
To have several false gods of their own
In order to accept a person's departure -
Thick clouds rolled down from the top of the mountain, like a beloved person
Say goodbye again.
Dragon Maiden, a native of Xi'an, Shaanxi. His works have been published in publications such as "People's Literature", "Poetry Journal", "Chinese Writers", participated in the 10th October Poetry Conference, the 4th National Young Prose Poets Pen Conference, won the China Chunni Poetry Award, the Gold Medal of the First International Poetry Festival in Moganshan, and published the poetry collection "Birdsong in the Window".