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.
Ma Jinxiu, female, born in 1970. He is a member of the Fujian Poetry Advanced Study Class in the New Era, a member of the Fujian Writers Association, a member of the Chinese Poetry Society, and a director of the Zhangzhou Writers Association. The poems have been selected into the "Selected New Poems of China in the Past Century" and "Selected Works of Contemporary Chinese Poetry". His poems have been published in Poetry Journal, Poetry Tide, Yangtze River Poetry Journal, Fujian Literature, Selected Literature of Taiwan and Hong Kong, Xiamen Literature, Quanzhou Literature, etc., and his personal poetry collection Splendid Poetry has been published.
Watch the water boil
Ma Jinxiu
Meet Pine Creek
Fujian-Zhejiang border, Songxi County, she has
Beautiful name, "Baili Pine Meng Bichang Creek"
The sound of flowing water, the sword of Cham Lu, can ripple by the stream
Reflection of the Wuyi Mountains, Zhu Xi "Yin Room"
Lang Lang LiXue Qiankun traveled with the stream
Camphor replaces josson and everything recovers
The robes of time wash the stream
We visited this small city in late autumn
Linger in the Kuiguang Pagoda, the beauty of Wenxiu Lake
Marvel at the casting of the zhanlu sword, the history of the sword and light sword shadow of the next life
Look down and meet the residual lotus, lotus root, and century-old cane
Winter shoots that precede the season, flashing their words
So we opened the stomach bud of poetry, and we poured ink
Practice rhetoric, drink wine, fly flower order
When you meet Pine Creek, you will also meet the most beautiful self
Meikou Port Endowment
Eighteenth Street Alley, enigmatic cobblestone polishing time
The alley mouth into the river stone dare to dang, a thousand years of ancient crossing
The river is leisurely, the prosperity is over, and the stories of the rivers and lakes are endless
Treasured in the Sword of Cham Lu
Tall camphor trees grow along the shores and flourish with their leaves
A sea of flowers travels through time and space, drunk on the riverbank
Mottled stone walls carry history in silence
Majestic green mountains, peaks and loops
Longer than flowing water are the vicissitudes of the world
On the cool water of the river, egrets stand
Someone takes a picture, someone turns into a landscape
Someone wanted to fight the sword at the ferry
Waiting to return, and I was just a passer-by
Photo by Yang Chao
Centennial cane
Feng shui cane planted by the Wei family in the Qing Dynasty
Stand in the scenery that people look up to today
These two hundred and ninety-year-old birthday stars
Achieve a century-old cane's immortal reputation
The roots are tough and grow non-stop, passing through the depths of the land
The dense sugarcane forest, Tingting, beckoning in the wind, born to the sun
When the sugar cane is ripe, the sweet juice overflows the atrium of the earth
The heart of grass and wood, it works its way:
Meet the fate of being crushed every time it is harvested
Crushed bones metamorphosed into sugar, in the earthly world
Dominate yourself and share the sweetness of medicine.
exegesis
Hourglass of time, unlimited traffic
Hidden in the interlacing of light and shadow
To possess and to lose, like a pendulum tirelessly
The man who plays in the storm
Reluctant to say the lonely anger
The nameless boat has a shore that does not want to turn back
In the sky, a snowflake holds a white seal
She was unwilling to lose her bones in the snow
A man with a lantern was silent in the darkness
But he was in tears
O fictional human world, everything is in the commentary
Alpine flowing water, white clouds and dogs
In the Tale of Everything, there are always ants running around for food
Rub shoulders with the spring breeze and reunite with you
Dongshan Island. Rock Ya
Yanya is the name of a village that waves beat
The rocks by the sea, the graceful curvature of a village
Isolated in the Sufeng Pass, awake in the deepest sleep
The wind of the four seasons nests on the rocks, and the fish swim in the blue
You can faintly see the ancestors of the Ming Dynasty sheep herding, facing the sea
A bamboo forest planted on the hillside, then called "Bamboo Village"
What a poetic name, there are no shepherds today
Only to see the white clouds leisurely, wildflowers blooming all over the hillside
An island of love under the sun, stone lane stone house stone pillar stone
The grass is overgrown and baptized by the wind and waves
Dozens of homes, watching and staying away
Yan Ya lovers in a painting, become someone else's landscape
Deep, superficial, loving, hateful
They are all innate sentences, a village's spring dictionary, in the cat's joy
The quaintness of the village, the goodwill, the past and the present
In the boat stranding, in the mountains and rivers
At a fisherman's house full of bougainvillea, sip a cup of kung fu tea
Listen to the old man slowly tell the story of the village
Yan Ya is half bright and half vicissitudes
Kasuga
Lonely mountains are thin, and the moss on the stones is full of rhetoric
Love and humility, simplicity and straightforwardness
Converge in the spring breeze, abrupt blank space
When the rain ticks, who is playing a nursery rhyme of their own
On that day, I hid the moonlight on the rice paper of spring
Paint clouds, bees, peach blossoms
Draw another empty palanquin
On the pier in the spring
Waiting to be returned
bridge
Dew dripped on the bridge, and the moss fell silent
The stream is clean and the small fish under the bridge are alive
The water surface is safe and orderly, and witnesses come and go, gathering and dispersing
The bridge stuck to its place and worked tirelessly
Laborers carry tools across the bridge
His weight is also the weight of the bridge
People on bamboo rafts cross under the bridge
Paddling down the water or going up against the current is hard to describe
All things have spirits, white clouds are leisurely, and the wind weaves a net
Under the bridge, pilgrims are full of kindness on their way
Winter said
Many things have blurred in the wrinkles of running water
I can't see your face clearly, and I can't see your own face
Dew on the petals of daffodils last night woke up from a dream
It's clear and stares out the window at the sea
And the little ants on the windowsill melt themselves in the sun
Some solitude and spirits salt and brown sugar
Stir the scrawled time the sky is getting higher and higher
There are clichés in the vastness of the online world
There are always reports of traces of derailment
And the game of the human world can not evaporate
I live in my hometown in a small town called Dongshan Island in Tongling
The sea breeze often lights up the sea in winter when there are no snowflakes
Hiding my breath, I saw waves writing broken lines of poetry
It has a salty taste
Light sits quietly like Zen
Inner landscape hidden Birds open their wings in the water
The crisp chirps ripple away like the wind
Casually flip through the scriptures and walk out of the lines
Some of the emotions pile up in time meditation like Zen
I sank into a cup of tea and meditated, remembering its aroma
Remember its warmth, such a night
Suitable for shouting out the moon with you, shouting out of the sea, facing the fireworks of the world
Clean face, like the first full moon shining on the sea
pity
The mist still lingered in the sea, and schools of fish jumped out of the water
Meditate and breathe the sea water flashes its words in calm
The fishing boats in the distance have not yet reached everything in the fog
There is compassion surging during the fishing moratorium
Tropical storms can also pass by in the peaceful sea
More often than not, it's peaceful, and I'm thankful for the fish
The world is a big bed the sea is in need of rest
We let the fish grow, swim, and let them go home
Just let yourself go home
autumn
Twilight falls on the surface of the water in autumn
Cool in the mirror Some of the ripples gathered in the pond
Fate swirled in circles, chasing each other's shadows of fallen leaves
And at this moment, the sorrow is bright
The wind spreads its wings and the autumn water imitates the stars of last night
Time is like an arrow, some love and hate are intertwined
Thin as cicada wings falling in the shadows
The cheongsam in memory Swimsuit in the hot spring
They were already stored in the cupboard of that fall
Growing obsolete
Before I leave this fall, I'm going to learn to leave myself
Hide in a leaf and write a poem
Send it to yourself that year
Frost
The bird is gone, and the distance sinks into the sound of torn horses' hooves
More faces appear in the water and the lotus flowers fall
The lotus heart has frosted and the persimmons are red
Inner softness freezes on the branches
The edges of the earthly world are rusty and indescribable
The afterglow of the setting sun summons the coming of the night and the ten thousand arrows pierce the heart
Someone sneered at the void of the world with a lion roar
Duckweed dinner in ten fingers
More twilight spread in the bells
The floating tower shadows of the sea sway in the waves
Whose skin bag is tied in a flat leaf boat and drifts away
Watch the water boil
Boil a pot of water, and I sit next to the water
Look at its excess overflow
Spread over the lid and gradually boil
Could have poured it out, but I didn't
It was an early winter afternoon
I don't talk and look at it
Wait for it to boil itself and meditate in time
Outside the window the sea and sky are colorful under the sun
The sea is also burning itself
Look at those snow-white salts
Learned to melt, and I didn't
![Yang Chao: Drunk in red wine, goblet | poet of his choice[fig]](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAP///wAAACwAAAAAAQABAAACAkQBADs=)