Feel the warmth of the words | Listen to the sound of words
The aesthetic | of youth | the emotional | is short
My cousin brought his own herbs from his hometown,
There was a strong smell of fireworks on the bag
It was on the head of the old home soil kang
The smell of fireworks
Open the bag
I grabbed a few pieces of herbs
Place in a teacup
The wife said
It is also not washed, and there is soil on it
I took a closer look in my hand
It's a haunting dream
Long lost countryside
Brew with mineral water
I savored it
This is the taste of the soil of the hometown
This local airflow runs through the lungs
Activated
Miss every gene of the homeland
Although I have never seen the sunrise of Mount Jiro
I have not admired the sea of flowers on Fuzi Mountain
But the rushing water of the Tao River
From the father's heart
A trickle down my veins
The river sings low and shallow
Put that muffled folk tone
A little bit of it was embedded in my life
Twelve hundred days apart from you
It is also my true parting from my homeland
To this day
It flows into the heart and spleen of the countryside
It gives birth to a homesickness germ
Imitate your vernacular with your heart
Say it thoughtfully
Oh, I want to ~ you ~ ~ ~ ~
I was talking in my heart about thinking of you
You must be there, you must be
Homesick
Poet Profile:
Li Ming, the third elder of Nangong, is a native of MinXian County, Gansu. Oil Ronin. Poetry and wine love is the pursuit, for people Geng is the true color, Kuangfu justice is the original heart, sword feelings in the cup of things, a world of pride and love at will ~ drifting!