Walkers, natives of Binzhou, are a wanderer mixed with fireworks and texts.
Father
Text/Practitioner
Dusk Follow your father over a mountain beam
Gently follow behind him
Watch him tremble as he walks toward the setting sun
That's on my shoulder
Has been thin
You can only carry a slender hoe
The back is pulled by the elder
It's like a tall poplar at the head of the village
Father's pipe had rusted
But still hanging over the shoulders
The voice is no longer high-pitched
That's a lot of worry about a mouth full of dentures
Time this thief
In the father
There are many wounds buried in the wrinkles of the forehead
The more you laugh, the deeper you hide
The longer you stay
When the father's shallow snoring sounded
Will he remember in his dreams
Childhood those games
Youth those beautiful
Crying in the wind and rain
Shaking his body slightly
Will he also dream of his mother-in-law?
He didn't know
His son who had been a soldier
Drift yourself into a foreign land
Every day, every night
Look at the hometown father and mother in the dream
He didn't know
His married daughter
Disguise grievances as smiling faces
Every time I go home
I want to sneak into his arms like a child
No. 12 burst into tears
Expect warm palms to soothe your face as you have in the past
He didn't know
He had a son who could write poetry
Always write about the father
East sentence West sentence
There has never been a complete line of poetry
But in fact, there have been tears for a long time
He doesn't know, he doesn't know
He didn't know
Maybe he knew
Otherwise why
He still calls us by name in his dreams
Otherwise why
He still had so many dings when he left
Source: "Shaanxi Wen tan" WeChat public account