Write a letter and leave it for the town
The town is only one incense long
From departure to the end
The imagination has not been fully spread
Plane tree in front of the temple
The tattoos all over the body are so eye-catching
I'm not familiar with where it came from
I don't know how much time it carries
A green mountain on the left is calling me
Hangover of wine
Along with unawakened dreams
It was as if they had all heard an echo
Flowers and fruits
On the branches
I heard the flowers say to the fruit
I send you spring
Under the tree roots
I heard the fruit speak to the flowers
I'll give you back the fall
Flowering season
Snowflake asked me
The color of the love letter on those six edges
May have melted
Wander out of the white Lover's Lane
Shame on you
My heart is racing
Send me up the little building
Leaning window introspection
The river downstairs is longer than the river
May you come to see me through the memories of spring
In a dream
It's still flowering season
I'm like a metaphor
At dusk, cross that street
The street lamps don't speak, the trees don't speak, and I don't speak
I confirm
Under this kapok tree, there are you
You in the crowd
Laugh in the sun
On earth, it seems that it has never rained
There is no darkness on your face
Left eye star, right eye moon
Falling into my heart, I shivered for a while
The road is so long
I'm on the street, you're at the end of the street
You carry a lantern to illuminate a field of fallen leaves
Yellow roses, so light, so heavy
myself
It seems like you used it
That metaphor
The earth is like a potato
The universe is vast and the earth is buried here
Like a potato in the dirt
The sun is baking
Give the Galaxy a lunch
I am also a potato
Buried in potholed human beings
Don't dig me out
I'm afraid your little one can't see it
Your eyes are full of mysteries
Because of you, the moon has the look of love
I'm not going to guess what's behind it
Just want to use a sickle machete
Cut the sky weeds
Then, the sky is round
You'll see me in the moon
We're separated — during the day
Only the night belongs to us
Tonight, I am in the moonlight
Doing a love problem
Your eyes are full of mysteries, how
Can't look to the end
alive
I used the keyboard and tapped the night
Dig out the stars, the words, the poetry
There is ice under the night
As soon as it melts, the sky is bright
The lights and I, pasted to the wall
There are also people who love, things that you like
Also pasted on the wall
Alive, countless nights, countless days
All are worth it
The coffee next to the keyboard was steaming
It's like evaporating bitterness into sweetness
People who sleep late
People who sleep late don't like the dark
And do not want to be alone
He just, in exchange for night, day
He was watching, what was standing across the night
Listening
How deep the dusk sunset sank
He warmed his right hand with his left hand
I think of the weight of winter and the width of the spring breeze
On the palm of the hand, the butterfly waits for Nirvana
People who sleep late and love the morning
He had clusters of stars in his heart, each one
Left him on and unable to sleep
collection
I collect the best things in the world
The days are long
I'm also beautiful
I will leave the good to you
My beauty
It will definitely be better
Will you collect me?
Favorite my laugh my heartbeat
And the wonderful ones I'm willing to share with you
Go to Lijiang
I took winter snow, residual ice, black rivers and old things
Packed together and thrown into yesterday
I'm going to wear a butterfly-like dress
Ring the bees' gongs and drums
I'm going to make a good landscape along the way
Tell the blue sky, tell the white clouds
I want to put the best mood of my life
Tell about the birds and green leaves singing in the spring breeze
I don't need anyone to accompany me
Lijiang is too beautiful
I want to possess it alone for a day, a month, a year, a lifetime
The mountains of Lijiang are clearly higher than my lens
Water of Lijiang
Apparently not contaminated by crows
I don't ask for friends, I don't ask for sexual encounters
Just ask the people I love
Been here
His laughter was none other than Lijiang and me
A landscape that has been waiting for ten thousand years
Xinyu, whose real name is Bai Xiaowei, has published poetry works in journals such as "Chinese Poets", "Poetry Monthly", "Years", "Haiyan", "Yalu River" and other publications, and is currently the editor of "Chinese Poets" magazine and the editor-in-chief of the micro-magazine "First-line Weekly".