Text/Quinoa
Thousand Buddha Rock
A thousand stones sit on a thousand blades of grass, and I identify the origin of my hometown in the morning light and twilight,
Birdsong opened the spring, and I repeatedly backed down
A thousand Buddhas fell silently.
But a man lifted up iron filings and wild grass like a river, and once again went to discern that they had almost seen through the path of the world.
The spring I missed in this life stopped at the Thousand Buddha Rock,
There is no wind, and the noble royal family is praying for prosperity and stability in all generations,
Many of these earthly words are like vast compassion.
Listen to the rise and fall of the mountain peaks with stones.
I leave this whole city with the wind and rain, like I waste too much time to chase back to the cliff,
I had one heart incense left, three days around the beam.
Through the cave
The stone slowly survived the flowing water and kept imagining, like me
Learn the chirping of the crane
Garrisoned as a river only for night and day,
The barren grass through the rock clouds is waiting for the wind to whip
The dragon horse took off to make the wild call like me
Learn to climb vines,
Borrow the light to read or stand alone to guard the monument and expand it
Thousands of days,
I will be lower than the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, lower than the seeds planted
Last night the ancient temple and the welcome pine,
Footsteps will touch the mottled cave doors and will be missing
A full moon pulls a full bow,
Clusters of arrows will cross the Wonderland of the Sea of Clouds and will pursue
The Trojan Paper Iris in the distance,
There was clear sunlight in my eyes and there was underneath me
Countless empty cave doors,
Wait for the water droplets to pass through, and wait for the distant layers of forest to ripple.
Night rain in Suishan
April reeds indulge in rain, short-flowering plants
Indulge in the riverbed. Get involved in human love
Like horses stepping over a fence, fishing for the ashes of the setting sun
Peach crisp soft lake.
Deep blue is the thorough eye of the seasons, the ship that returns to the far away
Inject the tail note of a fishing song into the tile houses of the people.
I was drunk and whipped the world, and Suishan was drunk and washed away by the night rain.
Parting village
The moonlight was like the white cotton of the snow horse beating in the sky, and the words were too thick. The sound of the wind opening the branches
Then the rocks of the river, large sheets of fallen leaves piled up for years of mud.
I retreated back into the village hidden in the forest, in the night
Touch the swaying of water and grass in the idyllic emptiness.
I try to go quiet like birds and finches together, like mountains
Obscured by all things, I control my thoughts
Count the stones that drill out of the spring and slowly pinch your fingers on the parting day.
Rain, walking with footsteps
The rain travels like the wind all the time. My Spring
Like the flowers on your face.
The shadow of the green bamboo, through the folded water
Enter the courtyard
My spring walks in your body, she is like
Piled up stones, dirt
Hold on to the leaves of the rain, and you are as quiet as they are
The same deep love is silent, quietly coming in the human world
There is no embrace, and there is an earth-like measure
My spring is in the rain you collect, with wooden pots
Ring with buckets and jars
Like the people in the closed house, you knock out the color of your mouth with peach blossoms
I knock out you with the whole river and I shout,
Knock out, I waddle in the autumn.
Daughter, do not despise tenderness
Don't take the weight of a drop of water lightly
The sound of blades opening horseshoes
The roads clear snow and the keyholes drill out of the spring
Daughters don't take it lightly
Grass and trees, each plant has a universe
Gravel is also one of the rivers, such as shells
Soft wind sounds. Don't take bugs lightly
My childhood dream
Ride the green bamboo to fly over the rainbow, daughter you have happiness
Like, build a beautiful house
Look at the shrunken forest on the ground falling on paper
Draw some ladders, like green vines
The green fruit, the earth. Daughter learns to be quiet
Like I learned to be silent, not to ask about winter
Too much cold, to add clothes
Try to be warm
Just like me, forget that pain flowers will bloom
All things are born
I was intoxicated by the light of the water, and she hooked out everything
There was an invisibility of color, and her lips did not spit bubbles
With water, life will bloom
Her blooming flowers are shaped like the bodies of you and me close together
There are eyes that can clarify tianyu
She left blank the entire river where the gully of the earth converged
The rush toward the east never separates, like the sun
She spilled her blood and gave it to everything to be re-spread
She is an elegant poetic realm, and the silence of all things is the singing of water
Snowflakes melt into the water at this time
The horseshoe will step over and the geese will change
The door of time and space, where all things sleep, emerges with the wind
Watch by my window, chest with hills and brushes
I was like one piece between all things
The heart will be as soft as water, and I can't put down the heavy stones
A piece of wood needs to be cut off from the riverbed
The mushrooms ignite a flame on top, allowing all things to be
Like withered glory and new life, it quietly transformed into the human world
Finger sand
It's not about hugging the gravel, greeting the moss, or touching the river
The amount of time they exist is not possible to merge
Have your own way, lie across the heavens and the earth
Even if they meet, laugh it off
They all lay in loneliness and took root. The memory of existence
Such as peace
Let the shadow of existence not be messy
Their language is superficial
If stacked into a fish tank
Like men and women and children, this is called family
Between each other, crowded with wind and rain
There are cottages for temporary living. Nourish the spring and autumn of life
The flame hugs the cold and warm divisions. Put enough firewood
Take out the frost and leave a footprint
Like a weary bird hiding, snuggled tightly
To stay in the human world, you have to let your fingertips shine with sunlight
Gradually stitch together the gaps where the leaves fall
The cherries are ripe
Butterflies return home with violent drunkenness all over the mountain flowers
The cherry red of the valley unravels the embrace of the wind when the king comes to the world
The branches continue the shape of my fire
I'm going to comb down through a drizzle
Easy to touch and painful
Like a mountain village lying down, a bug squirming its body to peep into the jam
I should allow it to exist
Sharing delicious food is not only exclusive to human beings, like love aging in the lines of fluidity
The lake borrowed ripples like a breeze that tugged at my heartstrings
My affection can cling to the dewdrops of the blades of grass
Like the temperature and heat of the sun, I transformed a cherry into a fragrant lip
The harvest of the season falls into the soft bed to ripen
Spring and autumn are easy to wake up
The sweat and blood BMW's sideburns could not tolerate the moonlight to shake off the smoke and dust like a cocoon
This side waits for the snow in Chang'an not to come
When a tree of cherry blossoms came, the sorghum I grabbed the wine gourd was finished brewing
The wine syrup I drank thirstily ran through the Shu Road for hundreds of miles to wait for the wind
The iron bird's wings just took off
I exclaimed that all the things illuminated by the sun and the moon in the world reflected the colorful light
I waited for the whole lake to fill up and start floating
Wait for a field of flowers to sway up this mountain full of plants
color
Wait for love I can not easily entrust
Empty mountains without bones will collapse after a mudslide
Moonlight has no eyes and cannot look down on the earth
This awaits a lifetime of embraces in the body of the city and the countryside
Want to blend
I was waiting for the tongue to refuse, the man who had been thrown into the water in the river
Fished ashore
Like countless empty shells, they have since found a soul mate
I wait for spring and autumn to come.
Spring
It was as if I were about to extract a lifetime of flowers that were about to open
Eventually it spreads in the footsteps of grass
Eyes full of fireworks, undertaking forests or lakes give the sound of the wind
Stacking and blooming show the power of spring
Slowly survive the transformation of old trees through the harsh winter
Like I was amazed by a bird song
Or when the rain comes, the raindrops from the eaves slowly take me down to the dream kingdom
I can touch the soft buds and shapes like my hometown
Spit it out of the corners of people's mouths in the most appropriate language
This irreplaceable love begins under the roots of the land
My body has always been here
Even if the heavens give me countless low-hanging frosts. I endure
Like the city away from you and me, the river is isolated from the tumbling alone
The sunset recedes
Sunset depression did not know the black shadow of dandelion. The dance followed his father's arm, and the sound of the wind after the rain was the pain of the earth's abandonment
Soothing just the stones that have swept through the gaps of time and
Clouds, no gestation cycle. Like the chirping of a bird
Shout the valley more vast, the vastness is boundless
The steppe lakes stop to feel tired of birds and finches, only the sunset of the mountains retreats
Like a dandelion, she had the shadow of the wind, rushing into the arms of the earth, all the while walking, burying the language
A large palm towards the dream. I can't catch them right away
With the heart, I want to talk about true love.
About author:Xiang Junying, pen name: Quinoa, born in 1982, a native of Yingshan County, Nanchong, Sichuan, lives in Xi'an, Shaanxi. Editor of Yingshan Literary and Art Poetry, Chairman of Yingshan Youth Network Writers Association, Deputy Secretary-General of New Grace Poetry Association, and one of the representative poets of Sun Poetry Journal. In 2008, he began to write poetry, and his works have appeared in various journals and anthologies. He is the author of the poetry collection "Selected Poems of Quinoa" and the novel "Cold Rain Window".