White moonlight
White moonlight snuggled under the streetlights
Intertwined with my sorrows
I want to knead this light and shadow into a ball
Throw it off into the distance
Forms an air bomb
Explode in an instant
Play the whole countryside
Idyllic scenery
The wanderer was in tears
No more illusions
It's good to wander alone
The heart of the aching man
Look forward to sprinkling the moonlight
This moonlight is feminine and distant
Can't touch it, but can't get rid of it
Sometimes wrapped around the top of the eyebrows
Then drive me to hug Chan Juan
A pot of old wine around the waist
Dance among the galaxies of the universe
Spring
Sunlight gently dissolves snow and ice
Rainbows in the sky accompanied by spring rains
This is me crying in the distance
As tears cross the petals
Drop into the young leaves of the grass
Transform into a dream elf
It wanders over the prairie
Tell me the story of spring
A wisp of fragrance mixed with washed earth
That's the direction of our hometown
We are always ready
Embrace this youthful imagination
Flow to the sky and the bottom of the heart
Explode a gorgeous flower
torch
Pitch black Street Torches
The old man held up the torch
Walk completely bent
Walk to a laneway junction
There were crows in their eyes
The crow was afraid of the fire
That faint spark
Help him walk
He still held up the torch
Moving forward in silence
He longed for the night wind to extinguish the faint
The embers and dead ashes dissipated in an instant
But he was still stubborn
Moving forward with difficulty
Seek the inexhaustible wildfire
abyss
The abyss slammed into my eyes
The legs have also been shackled
Only the consciousness is left to worry and be afraid
Occasionally, a line of black herons flew over the sky
As if heralding the arrival of darkness
Contradictions and chaos erupt from the depths
It was enthusiastic, stirring up the color of the blood sunflower
Pick me up from the grave
Place in a garden full of fragrance
I don't love the flowers
I want to be with Stinger
I'm going to dive into the abyss
Fall, fall again
Abyss, I want to talk to you!
phantom
The evening wind blew through the ground and sewed a few weeds
Blowing away the footsteps, shouting and looking
The dryness of the summer burned the beasts to scream
Only in the graves of the mountains
Pitch blackened the silence
The ghost is coming, the ghost is coming
It wanders through the void
I don't know where to go
He roared, he was anxious
The long night startled the travelers confused
He drew out a blade of lightning and slashed forward
Only a few weeds were shaking
He expected the endless dawn
He didn't know that the ghost was himself
Peng Shujin, male, from Huangshi, Hubei Province. Post-00s young writer and well-known poet. He is a member of the Chinese Poetry Society, the Chinese Poetry Society, the Chinese Prose Literature Society, and the chairman of the Board of Directors of Young Writers. Some of his works are included in the "Yanglian Expo", "Rushing Stream", "Yalu River", "Selected Poetry", "Henan Science and Technology Newspaper", "ChutianShengping Newspaper", "Jiangsu Economic Daily", "Pearl River Times", "China Literature and Art Newspaper", "Shaanxi Poetry", "Qilu Literature", "Hua Chinese Studies", "Hubei Poetry", "Shaanxi Poetry", "Young Literary Artists", "Bohai Wind", "Delta", "People's China", "Old Age Daily", "Chinese Literature", "Frontier Literature", "2022 Han Hai Poetry Selection" and other newspapers and magazines.