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Yu Feng: The seriousness of time is disturbed by a flower| poet chooses himself

Editor's Note On January 31, 2021, the Fourth National Member Congress of the Chinese Poetry Society was successfully held, and 170 people were elected as members of the Fourth Council of the Chinese Poetry Society. This WeChat public account will select the selected poems of directors and members on the basis of merit for the benefit of readers.

Yu Feng: The seriousness of time is disturbed by a flower| poet chooses himself

Yu Feng, a native of Quzhou, Zhejiang, is the chairman of quzhou writers association, the editor-in-chief of marginal literary magazine, and currently works for Qu Pao Media Group. Poetry creation began in the 1990s, and his works have been scattered in literary journals such as "Chinese Writers", "Beijing Literature", "Xingxing Poetry Journal", "Selected Poems", "Writers", "Tibetan Literature" and other literary supplements of mainstream media such as "People's Daily", "Guangming Daily", "Zhejiang Daily", etc., and have published more than 500,000 words of various literary works so far.

The seriousness of time is disturbed by a flower

Afterglow

This year's snow arrived early

Nothing to do with the cold

The osmanthus has not yet left, and the sleeves of Jiangnan are thin

The roar of the sharpened knife sounded from the bones

Pierced the door of the seasons

Everything was too late to prepare

Everything was already ready

Including snow, in the moment of indistinguishable autumn and winter

It came in a hurry, falling into the nearest and most tender wound

And we shudder. The earth is spinning indifferently

A flower when it is levered by mountains

Take the floral aroma as the wine, do not use the fulcrum

The most serious masters will be confused

This year's snow arrives ahead of schedule, during the winter

The woman's thighs hanging on the river beach forgot to retract

The rice is still in the field waiting to be harvested

We hear the cries of spring

Yu Feng: The seriousness of time is disturbed by a flower| poet chooses himself

Photo by Yang Chao

I have no reason to panic about frost

It's already September

Deceived by the seasons for a long time, many leaves withered ahead of schedule

Death in the trees is not blind

When the cold dew comes, the crabs climb up from the autumn pond

The color of the grass in the south is still green enough for women to prolong the spring period

The Northland's love letter has not yet arrived

Bees are unemployed at home

Say good Eight laurel tweed, say good ten miles of fragrance

At this time of year, there is a long queue of incense stealers

As planned, it was the turn of the frost to descend in the next scene. Can be raining for days

Washed out the props that released cold messages. Autumn is a good day

The living room is still haunted by the chaotic atmosphere of summer

Autumn Frost if not change its blade-like coldness

More and more fruits will not be low as expected

Heavy head

We are used to being ruled by bugs at night

The sound of insects arrives at dawn

The political death is silent

Birds occupy all branches

Birdsong became Chinese

And all the sounds become bird language

Smoke filled the night

The moon is as pale as after drinking

Starlight lingered and his face was haggard

Like a cup that is satisfied and then empty

People are always used to closing their eyes at night

Sleep or dream

Ignore what happens at night, even

When it doesn't exist

But bugs tell you

Night is its world

More bustling than your daytime

As time, the night is always as long as the day

Summers are short, winters are long

The north is short, and the south is long

Yin and yang are always balanced

It's as precise as cause and effect

It's like drinking at night and sobering up during the day

Dream at night, dream during the day

In fact, we are used to the night being ruled by bugs

We close our eyes and talk about dreams

Keep your eyes open and talk nonsense

Wake up at dawn and open the skylight

As if nothing had been said

Yu Feng: The seriousness of time is disturbed by a flower| poet chooses himself

Mid-Autumn Moon

Moonlight soaks the valley

For countless days, homes are adrift

Life is banished

The despair that comes with each full moon transcends life and death

But more people choose to live

Look at the moon a little bit mutilated

Look at the waiting that comes with the lack of moon

Just for the consummation of that monthly moment

Where is the shore of life

The moonlight wringed the years

We will only use countless names and languages

Pile up ancient shipwrecks

But after the vicissitudes of the moon, it still exists

Tender as a virgin. I don't know who it is

Hang this heavy wheel high through the ages

Place on a bed sheet for the night

Let the dawn be born

And the life of a person

But it was missing by that simple full moon

Cut it to pieces

Yu Feng: The seriousness of time is disturbed by a flower| poet chooses himself

The moon on the east mountain

The moon is bathing and fasting tonight

By the Lhasa River, the willow head is empty

Every leaf is as lonely as a scripture

Recite the length of the night

Miss has long been waiting at the intersection of Dongshan

In a classical pose

Raise the bottle to invite the moon, and every tribe along the way will be sprinkled with it

The most haggard blessing

I've long been blind to the moon's profit and loss

It is the shadow of the moon when it is missing

Not actually a shadow

It's a conspiracy that has been staged over and over again

From the beginning of the river to the moon of the mountain

Met from the beginning

I fell into the lie woven by the full moon

Wait on top of the East Mountain

The moon is as clear as snow. Sweetheart

Even if it is a good appointment at dusk, even if the heart is hot again

After a crossing of 380,000 kilometers

It can also accumulate frost

Early blooming flowers

Spring is cold and steep

Occasionally, there are days of sudden warming

But I saw flowers blooming on the branches of the magnolia

This spring of thin affection

Sprinkle a few drops of sunlight over it

He deceived the simplicity of the flower

Overnight

Temperatures plummeted

The land fell like a woman's weeping when she was haggard

There are always some things that are not deeply involved in the world

Can't resist the temptation

Wither life prematurely

Yu Feng: The seriousness of time is disturbed by a flower| poet chooses himself

Clear

Push the tears into your thoughts, like

Push the blood into the blood vessels

Like the clear rain, small and silent

But Runtian Wetland

There is no solar term

Carrying too much pain like Qingming

Backlog for thousands of years, deep into the bone marrow

The current situation is far from its original intention

It needs to be sorted out

Turn the page back to zero

Suffering is enough to precociously ripen an ignorant child

Spring is also precocious, experiencing too much spring cold

Life and death, the virus also loves to multiply in this season

But people are still willing to praise spring

And the rare sunshine

In the history of smoke and smoke

Qingming was bleeding black

Yin Jian is not far away

The beauty of spring is not natural

The scenery is good on this side, and perhaps it is even more dangerous

Warn us

The clenched fist could no longer be released

Qingming has never been like this today

Like its original meaning, the homeland is green and grassy

The flowers bloom in the first place and everything is fresh and bright

This is for ancestors who only woke up on Qingming Festival

The best sacrifice

Dragon Boat Festival Caprice

Peeling off the rice dumplings is like peeling away the viscous history

That period of history was bloody and tearful and covered with dirt

Thicker than stone

Jump and sink to the bottom of the river

One person occupies a festival

And for more than two thousand years, it has become an exclamation point embedded in the chest of history!

The dim-witted Chu Guofu was thin

Great poets who cannot bear the sorrows of the people

The number of breath was so short that it was not as short as The Ying Ying of Chu's waist

The Miluo River is too shallow to hold the thoughts that pour in like water in the cave court

Fortunately, the dragon boat that rescued Qu Yuan was still there

The dragon boat looked as thin as Dr. Sanlu

One end is full of suffering

One end with dreams

People have been scratching for thousands of years

The Dragon Boat Festival is a mirror

Everyone who looks in the mirror is Qu Yuan

And the word patriotic was taken out of the riot

Wrapped in annual rice dumplings

Nourishes the backbone and blood of this nation

Let's burn aipu for incense, and let's make a bottle of yellow wine

To comfort the ancestors of today's good life

Fahai's tin rod has been put into a cage

The white lady's love is protected by law

No longer afraid to appear in its original form

Yu Feng: The seriousness of time is disturbed by a flower| poet chooses himself

Tanabata

Parting days

As empty as no man's land

Time fills the holy lake, the snowy mountains and the thoughts

Drift around with white clouds

When you are not there, the pause loses its meaning

All the parties are actually not ready

Just like this month's missing night

It covers the Tibetan Plateau and illuminates another time zone

A river was drawn with a hairpin

Just separate the two hearts

The stars are within reach at the top of the world

But there are no grapevines here, and it is impossible to capture the whispers of the middle of the night

If the yak is still there

Weaver girls will definitely switch to weaving tents

Cover the door on a cold snowy night

Waiting for the cowboy on the day of the full moon

Return

Listen to the rain outside the basket

When you come to the outside of the basket

A minimalist Song Dynasty robe obscured the sky

Dipped in the tone of blue-gray history

Overflowing from horse-head walls, deep courtyards and gaps in the rain

Sprinkle damp light on the ground

You will only notice when you walk outside the basket

The rain that pierced the light curtain hit the bamboo leaves

It is completely different from hitting on a plantain

Yes, that raindrop has traveled through millennia

Drip through the hardest stones

But outside the basket, the sound of rain put on a three-inch golden lotus

The footsteps are as delicate as the shallow chants in the song lyrics

Confine the sky to your home

Only one wellhead was left for rain dancing

At this time, it is advisable to use bamboo curtains to space

Listen with your eyes closed

From the raindrops that shy dance steps and slightly messy rhythm

You will hear

It is like the original innocence of a young girl who has not yet been involved in the world

The years of the jingo iron horse and the mountain roaring tsunami

After fermentation and filtration, the dust has settled

Nothing more than a glass of loneliness in your hand

History always stops on dark rainy days

Fill the void with wine

Let the world stay a little awake and a little drunk

In the middle of half drunkenness and half awakening, listen to the rain outside the basket

Echoing in my heart was the sound of the distant horses' hooves

The sound of the intestines breaking

Yu Feng: The seriousness of time is disturbed by a flower| poet chooses himself

Awe awe at a covered leaf

Spring is awakened by the sound of sweat dripping

In the form of leaves, the buds are ready to bloom

One by one, they opened like clouds reflecting the dance of the earth

Beauty becomes a line of poetry familiar to human childhood

These are the leaves, which originate from the roof, and are weak and slender

Just like the woman picking tea, carrying the green water and green mountains

Put the green that belongs to Gangnam

The deepest cloud in this area that melted above the Shu Dao

Each leaf, in the spring

They are selected from the tip of the ten fingers, then quenched and baked

Just like practicing, you need the blessing of a fire

After rubbing it in the palm of your hand, you will boil out the taste of life

The years are lost. Spring is restless

But this leaf, with the determination of Qu Zi to throw the river

Soak up the singing of life

Let you find yourself and taste quietly.

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