The hill is drunk with snow
The mind of the hill, only the snow knows
Xitang's mind, only Xiyuan knows
After getting off the canopy boat, the fragrance of the beauty's body faded
The page number of Jiangnan was turned to Jijia Lane
The whitebark pine shook its branches there, as if it had been waiting
The wind is pale, it crosses the rockery, and the rockery has real cold
It passed through the pavilion, and the grass at the foot of the pavilion began to deepen
I borrowed a body of smoke and rain, kissed hibiscus, welcomed spring, and chrysanthemum
And find the source of the Yue language in the tea of Tingtao Pavilion
I whispered to them in a somber way
The space is subtle, the meaning is very deep, hundreds of years old
Ripples rippled in my eyes
So there was a song in my ears - between Gangnam and me
Large cuckoos hold up the flames of the water spirit
The Twilight Realm
How terrible that is
Immersion begins to blur
The backwards of the vision began to be strange
For example, flying flowers can be sad
Falling snow can make people miss the cold before
The slight warmth of the longing for a reunion
For example, Liu Ying, who has watched the romance of staying by the window
On paper, Guazhou has repeatedly rushed into thin words
Carefully planted mysterious and beautiful bodhi for me
And out of the window at the moment
The color was very light, the floating cloud that caused a sigh
No matter how unwilling you are, it is difficult to metaphorically be a person
Even you, you have not seen each other in this life
It can only be a night that is lost to sentient beings
Mt. Boshu
The sun is setting outside, and the flowing water is nameless
The return of the autumn bird to the south indicates that the year will end
The spring flowers and summer insects that have been shown are attributed to the writers
The decaying wood was helpless, hiding the echo into the ring of the year
Thousands of voices are square inches, and the tone is faint
The west wind came and scattered, and the great events of the world took place step by step
The footprints are erased by the weeds
The statement hangs on the tip of the tree
Life is a drop of frost, and death is also a drop of frost – in my eyes
Like falling leaves, no one is worried
Remote
After today
I no longer believed that moonlight could plant thorns
The wind is very light, suitable for talking about a light topic
Instead of staring, two heavy lives under the night sky
I think about the first encounter, how brilliant the world is
Everywhere is the spring and autumn dream of the rich and the enemy
Yet how fast. Butterflies fly across the sea
The stars were pressed into the cold stones
Release your hand and tilt the space
Floating clouds are hovering, like who does not die of sadness
Give it another ride, after today
I will be in another country forever, I am afraid that the snow will fall, and I cannot say that I miss you
Long goodbye
This afternoon can be as long as a century
It can also be as short as a moment
This century may be barren land
It may also be weedy.compelling
In the middle, Bai Ping is light
Like the immediate ending compared to the whole world world
Already a mute
It doesn't matter if it's completely broken, the silent man is stiff as a stone
There is a hint of turmoil lurking in the kernel in a vain attempt to summon a ship
And yesterday's waters did not rise to today
The topic is weightless, in the inner gully
The mountains and rivers of yesteryear fell into thunder
They sink faster, away from waking up
Let go of the hand, and the sea of people continues to be boundless
Above the desert, above the sea, above you
My soul is left with only pale flames
On top of the detritus
Indefinitely
There are still birds singing in the forest, and there are still schools of fish in the stream
There are more people climbing on the mountain road
The wildflowers bloom just right, enviably unconscious
If she had been aware, would she be like me?
Can't stop trembling --
Sunlight is cast in a slanted manner
I've counted how many insects are burning
Look around and control the fire in your chest
- I don't understand what else to avoid at this time
Ash was exposed early under the eyes, and what kind of tears
It is imperative to escape
Let go of the hand, let go of the lightning on the heart
The sky was silent, sucking away all the offerings
Cold sake
The meaning of years has long been thin
Old poems sleep like distant perceptions
The staircase is no longer obsessed with sending people up
Where the light leaks, it is where the dust falls
From fluttering willows to slow-growing cloves
The view from the window, one is failing, one is late
In the dim hour, the sunset is heavy
The treetops are decorated with nests, and the sky is blackened
The middle of time and space is stationed with stories of north and south
Blossom is the name of the protagonist and the supporting character
The man who came to Japan sat on a brown stump
Represents the ordinary lost in the infinite country
He saw how many migratory birds came and went, conquering and acquiring
Because of excessive solemnity, sooner or later it will become ridiculous
The strength is still there, some delicate grass
On the side of the road, I am preparing to use up all of it and grow a vast life
Night
The night should be buckled upside down, and so should the coughing sound
There is a star that is not afraid of the cold
Struggling in sight
The scriptures sent by friends were weakly closed
People are middle-aged and more reluctant
Start to be serious at a glance
Then the second hand wears out, and time is alienated
Quiet, with an unconscious effect, flickers
Slightly sentimental, or careless
Think of that far mountain below
Who is hesitating and looking back at no one
That scene is as light as snow
Hiding place
The wind swept through the clouds, or the clouds swallowed up the sound of the wind
The old wall is higher than the old man
The night is complete, from the end of the five fingers
Bent to the forehead or deep into a dumb section of smoke
The hurdles of the years have come and gone many times, one by one
I wish it was someone else's window sill that was hit
What is intimidated is someone else's dream
Some rather warm stories are fixed
As you can see, the desired branches should be added again and again against your heart
So that the sweetness and sourness that are ignored have some depth
In the depths of Ren Yun's smoke, the face called reality
Blowing bubbles at the stars alone
Every time it is broken, someone throws a double
Late at night in the winter month
Hanging up, is not all pain
Unspeakable past and present lives
The sky is wide open, and the wilderness is like this
There is nothing else in the world, and there is no way out of the world
Flying is confused with solidification
I ignore it, or steal it
The places of possession are far away, the emptiness and confusion
Half or all my life in a gentle stone
People who are optimistic about dreams live elsewhere
Half-life or lifetime statements
Yes: Look, the thousand sails are over
Frost Buckle, female, from Heilongjiang. He is the chief editor of the volume of "Yunjin Life" and the deputy editor of "Chinese Poets". His poetry works have won many awards in the national essay. He is the author of the poetry collection "You See the Sunset", "We Will All Meet Again on the Road of Forgetting", the prose poetry collection "Sadistic Heart in Heaven", and "Jinser Ten Stacks" (a collection of five).