In my hometown, important days are related to fireworks (group poems)
Text/Jiang Tao
Inscription: In liuyang, hometown, those important days are related to fireworks.
Spring
From far to near, from near to far. Wake up to the sound of firecrackers. I know, spring is coming.
Spring is a short and powerful mantra. Only lightly open the lips, from south to north, with the wings of birds, the howl of beasts, the blossoms of flowers,
Approaching step by step, waking up inch by inch, carefully occupying.
Mountains and rivers, fields. Inexplicably agitated and trembling. Dead trees sprout new shoots, and caterpillars struggle to climb. Only one ray of sunshine is away from the butterfly's dream.
The spring breeze is mighty, and it will give love to all things. Plum Blossom shook off a remnant of snow and inquired about the news to the east wind.
Lantern Festival
It doesn't matter if it's sunny or rainy. On this day, the fullest moon rises in the night sky. Lamps are pierced into beasts, grow into trees, converge into the sea, and in the tassels of light, swimming crowds, stirring up the waves of laughter and noise.
The son had just made a little tiger lamp, and the orange light reflected his little face. I remember many years ago, a lamp, a shimmer of fine cotton colored paper. Remember the strong man who danced the dragon, and rushed east and west under the bombardment of a string of firecrackers. To the sound of gongs and drums, a wandering dragon danced out of the heavenly soldiers.
After eating tangyuan, even if it is, it will end the grand carnival. Tomorrow, we will walk with spring. Be a plant that strives to move upwards, or a cow that works hard.
clear and bright
Rain, drenching a mountain, drenching my father's tombstone. The grass is covered with teardrops.
The child bowed down to his grandfather, whom he had never met, and death was still a mystery to him. The father in the tomb could not speak, but could only enjoy in silence—the food we offered, the paper money burned, the diligent blessing of us, or the moon drifting into our dreams in the dead of night.
Firecrackers sounded at the top of the hill over there. The birds startled. The sound of thought, caught off guard, spilled to the ground.
Tanabata
The scent of marshmallows flowed in the air. The moon rises and gathers on the banks of the water in the name of love.
A beam of light rose from the ground. Rushing out from the Tang Dynasty 1,400 years ago, it roared past the Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties. From this bustling human world, straight into the sky.
A beam of light, another beam of light, bloomed in a terrifying noise. It was God, willfully casting a handful of colored diamonds on the black velvet. This carnival of prosperity illuminates the heavens and the earth.
The magpies that build the bridge flutter their wings and fly away. Countless red ribbons slowly fell from the night sky. I saw clearly the mountains and waters, and the stars in my eyes.