He Leixi: "All sentient beings will be covered with gentleness" a small collection of poems

Poet Profile

He Leixi, real name He Guangyou, alias He Qinglong, male, full-time lawyer, currently works and lives in Chengdu.

He began to write poetry in the early 1980s, and used the pen names Lei Hui, Poetic Habitat, and Good Lawyer. Occasionally, poems are published. He has published a collection of poems, "Yunxi Flowers Bloom mao jinjiang".

Poetic view: Life cannot be without poetry, and poetic inhabitation is a beautiful realm of life.

The Transmutation of Man and Tiger

A bundle of straw, no green soul of life

Only let the fire burn

only the remaining energy can be released

Even if you barely tie up the appearance of a "person"

It is only suitable for planting on the edge of the rice field

Go scare the sparrows who try to steal their mouths

Like the mediocre who don't learn and don't have any skills

Without exception, they will be scolded as "straw bags" by everyone.

A blank piece of paper, except for writing and drawing

There is no other way to give it a flexible charm

The so-called white is not caused by the heart

More unintentional "blank"

It's just the misery and even the blankness of an idiot

Even if it is folded or framed by chance to form the appearance of a tiger

Can only amuse children, no jungle king momentum

Under the profanity, the body of a doll will be complete

Once, people add tiger spirit

How spirited that should be

What's more, if a person has a tiger bone

And how to stand out from the crowd and laugh at the world

But don't go too far

Otherwise, they will want to eat people

If only, tigers are more popular

Whether there is also a soft in the just, the needle is hidden in the cotton

If you add human flavor

Maybe the licking is deep, and the look back is full of warmth and smile

Nor can it be too high

The king of the beasts is still a beast

"Snow, Overwhelming"

The fog has not yet completely dissipated

The conspiracy of thick haze began to lay out again

The sun was imprisoned warm and locked in light

The bitter wind blew the ground again and again

The stripped tree was standing up to endure humiliation

The dying dead grass and shrubs crawled and trembled in the earth

You can't see the birds flying in pairs

The occasional sigh made the roar of the motor press back hard

People in a hurry wear masks and hats

Only those who hold the stove can withstand the cold

A fierce spring-winter battle is unfolding in the heavenly court

The angels who fought desperately died nine times

Only to see that their white feathers were floating down

Overwhelming. All beings will be covered with tenderness

Where are the White Crows

"The world is as black as a crow"

Parents and teachers have said this

I've been trying to look around the world

That kind of crow that looks very different

Preferably a white crow

Noisy, silent

Soaring, fluttering, napping

Crouch on solid rocks

Occupy the tall branches on the top

It's all black

Excited, calm

Shiny and shiny, gray-headed

Fallen, dying

What is rotting has long since been carved in stone

It's also black

Plug-in camouflage, dyeing beauty

Hybridized, transgender

Those who change their names and surnames, those who tamper with family trees

Storyteller, autobiographical

Still black

There are no white crows in the world

If born with a white and flawless feather

That could never be a crow

It can only be white pigeons, or other beneficial birds

"New Year's Greetings"

The anticipation accumulated during the long night brushed away the eyelids of the early morning

Repeatedly scratching the desktop is still helpless

The fog or haze was thick and gray

The epidemic notification ranked first in the news and was refreshed day by day

Masks have been worn for too long! It's like a mask

The life of changing faces is squeezed into staring in the cracks of the eyes

It is not the thickness of winter clothes that give warmth

A faint hint of the first sun is enough to brighten the mood

It is not easy for mortals to fly into the clouds in the sky

It is better to go to hell and ride the dragon freely through it

The crowded lower floor also has a lively day

Tired of calculating the gains and losses of every cent

Gathering and scattering, love and hate by heart, success or failure in the sky

Count the schedules for the New Year approaching

Oil road congestion, slow brakes, chaotic navigation

Even a steering wheel in your hand doesn't guarantee unwavering commitment

Walking is the present tense of one's duty as a human being

Sitting on ease for too long and almost crippled

Fortunately, the blood is still hot, and the persistence is born for oxygen

Calls are mostly sales pitches or scams

A few words of information in addition to informing is a warning

The heat thousands of miles away will cool down the dialog box

The familiar strangeness is swaying at hand

Close the computer window

The world of determination has lost love or even lost contact with itself

The bits and pieces of the past tremble and tremble

The Iraqis are still wandering on the water and sky side? Look around dazed

Trying to stand up straight as a human being

Muscles and bones must be faintly painful

The crowd of pushers stirs up a strange smell of loneliness

Don't the northern geese fly south to see the scenery just to make a living

Nostalgia is the cause and effect that runs counter to the homeland

Dead branches and dead grass picked up in the bag

The construction of a nest of comfort is nothing more than a poetic embodiment

Wind wear, rain soak, frost, snow cover, ice hanging

Isn't it decoration? It's not landscaping

The return of the weary bird is always the usual daily format of Purdue sentient beings

The soul will walk alone in the night, shaking off the wind and dust

The self-proclaimed discerning star eyes turned a blind eye

Even the brightest moonlight could not illuminate the clouds and clouds of the heartland

Lying flat is also counted as creeping forward with a suspended death move

I had to go on the road with my bare hands

Let's put on a quilt that is far thicker than armor

Break through and head forward

Long and short purrs blow the horn

Distant dreams are always beyond the mountains and rivers

Those letter-doodle logs whose ink has not dried

Falling Like that, the wind was mercilessly torn to pieces like drifting snow

The Martial Arts Cheats have been cracked into Sanskrit incantations

The blooming of the cold plum is oblique

The way of the crystallization of the weak water into the ice core is simple

Happy New Year! Be sure to be happy

Image | Internet

Edit | Zhao Xue