1. SANMAO'S VERSE ON COCOSILI
SANMAO'S VERSE ON COCOSILI
A poem about CocoSilicia
Returning peace to CocoSilicia
(1)
Have you heard of CocoSilicia
where the cold thin air is drifting?
Have you ever been to Cacao Sicily,
where the ancient wilderness is full of spirit.
It is a forbidden place for human life,
and has been a miracle of nature for millions of years.
The original ecology of the land is like a pure and beautiful girl.
There is a paradise for highland animals,
living in the charming and charming Tibetan antelope.
I would like to see the paradise,
and step on the green beams of the plateau.
I would like to go into Cocoa Sicily,
and y jump into her lonely and empty arms.
Ah--
Lovely Coco-Cilili,
I want to hear your breath in tranquility.
How I would like to see you smile in your sleep.
(2)
Do you hear,
hear the mournful winds of CocoClippa,
face the brutal massacre of poachers,
the blood-red sun will be sadly crying.
Did you see,
see the tragic death of the Tibetan antelope in Cacao Sicily?
The sight of corpses in the wilderness will make you shiver,
The land under the white bones is stained with stains of blood.
I looked painfully at the distant Cacao Sicily,
which is no longer a beautiful girl.
She is no longer a beautiful maiden. She has been raped by human desires,
and not even tears can cleanse her primitive and holy body.
The sky gasped out a heavy sigh,
and looked tearfully at the poor Coco-Cilie,
and the earth waved the roar of the wind,
and called for the defense of Coco-Cilie with all its heart.
......
Gather our anger,
catch the murderous devil,
butcher you put down the weapon of sin,
give peace back to Coco-Cilie.
Dedicate our love,
surround a solid shield,
block the evil attack on nature,
give the Tibetan antelope a piece of vibrant land.
Ah--
Lovely CocoClippa,
Give peace, give peace back to CocoClippa.
How I want to hear you - breathing in tranquility.
How I would like to see you - the smile in the sleep.
2. What are some of the poems of Sanmao, please attach the complete poem
Looking at the sky, the rain is so salty, are there tears in it? The wind is blowing, the leaves are flying, who knows who I am? Thank you for spending those days with me, I will lock this memory in my heart, some words, say or not say are no longer important, some things, want to forget but can not forget, if I am a few years older, will you stay by my side? If I had been born a few years earlier, would we have stayed together? From now on, we will never see each other again. Years later, I don't know who will be by my side ......
====================================
There are no red roses in the world/who slit their wrists with thorns on their stems/the blood The blood and tears stained the white buds of the flowers. Since then, whenever a heart is broken, a red rose blooms on the ground.
========================================
There are no red roses in this world. The snow-white flower buds / Since then / Whenever a heart is broken / A blood-red rose blooms on the ground
3. Is there any ancient poetry verse that can praise the writer Sanmao
My daughter often says that life is not about length, but whether it hurts to have lived it. I think this statement is also: do grasp the meaning of life and live. In this, I agree, though my heart aches for her to burn.
----San Mao's father, Chen Ziqing
In my eyes as a mother, she is very ordinary, but she is just my child.
SAN MAO is a pure person, in her world, can not tolerate false, it is this point of truth-seeking personality, make her down-to-earth life. Maybe her life, her encounter is not perfect, but we do know: she did not run away from her fate, she bravely face life.
----San Mao's mother, Miao Jinlan
San Mao once said that she envied Qin Han and me for our love, and that she wanted to find a partner who cared about her and could talk to her about her heart and work, but unfortunately, she couldn't find the ideal partner. She still misses her dead husband very much. She is too careless to protect herself ...... I once advised her not to be too capricious, even if she doesn't care about her own body, she should take care of her body for her parents.
--- Actress Brigitte Lin
SAN MAO is not a beauty, a tall body, wearing long hair, with a book and pen roaming the world of the image of the young, strong and lonely SAN MAO for the mainland young people's charms, any outsider to make any imagined to value is not excessive. No outsider can overestimate the charm of young, strong and lonely SanMao to the young people of mainland China. For many years, people everywhere said Sanmao, I am the reader of that, art by conquest and existence, I envy Sanmao the real writer.
--- Writer Jia Pingwa
Some of the terms that originally had a beautiful meaning, used indiscriminately, have become vulgar. The fact that there are so many talented people walking around is an example, as is the frequent appearance of strange women on the silver screen and screen. I originally did not want to put this kind of title, which has become vulgar, on Sanmao, but when I think about it, there is no more suitable description, so let's call her a strange woman. The positive meaning of "strange" should be "maverick", according to the interpretation of the Dictionary, that is, high aspirations, refusing to go with the flow of the so-called also.
----Writer Liang Yusheng
Sansao is very friendly, but I don't have a good impression of her. She says she is "not a person who likes to put herself in a box to talk", but I think it's just the opposite, I think she spends all her time in her box, and this box is her repeated love story, which has a white tiger star style of husband, a white cloud country style of escaping from the world, a leukemia style of international routes, and a white water style of flooding feelings. If Sanmao were a beauty, perhaps she could have had constant flirtatious aftermaths to pass on to the rest of the world, because that's sort of a beauty's prerogative. But Sanmao is obviously not, so her "beautiful" love stories are too much for her to handle in real life. ......
--- Writer Li Ao
If life is a cloud, its splendor, its light, its change and drift are all very natural, just because it is a cloud. Sanmao is so, with her cloud-like life, stretching into the image of the arbitrary, regardless of the feelings of life, is sweet or sad, she has no intention of pretense, between the lines of the word, everywhere is a silent song, we can hear that song with the heart, beautiful as the music of the sky. People who are bound by civilization are more accustomed to the triviality of the world and are lost without knowing it. Reading Sanmao's works, I found a world created by life, like the flowers in the desert, she lifted her life above the mundane, which requires spiritual wisdom and great courage.
--- Writer Sima Zhongyuan
There are many people who criticize Sanmao, thinking that she is just dreaming in her own little world, but I don't think so. Basically, literary creation is the highest expression of a person's sublimation of sexual spirit, and the fact that she can sublimate such emotions means that she has such a level, which is much higher than that of many writers, I think, in terms of spirituality
-----Actress Hu Yinmeng
Sanmao's view of life was different from that of ordinary people. She believed that there are two forms of life: the physical body and the soul after death. She rationally chose to pursue the second stage of life, and we should respect her choice without being too sad. Sanmao's choice to commit suicide must have her reasoning.
--- Writer Ni Kuang
No ancient verses, character comments.
4. Who wrote the love poem "The Cocoanuts"
This one by Yang Jiuji, right? The Cocoanuts 1 I wander through the hair of the night, darkness devours the eyes.
You, the only direction. Tugging trembling towards you, knocking at the dawn.
Rise to arrive. Your holy eyes reflect the warmth of heaven.
Fragrant in the rose's pasty breast. A hunter, as if a poet captures the flash of inspiration, always waiting for the prey to appear.
Resourceful, sensitive, and precise in its steadfastness. The prey arrives as expected.
Load, load, aim, pull the trigger. The prey falls, shaking down the forbidden fruit of Eden, and Venus croaks.
Cupid's arrow is aimed at you. 2 Night, step by step, stand up.
On the battlefield of love, I only believe in the "theory of permanence", marathon battle line, only the distance between the heart and the heart. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get a good deal on this, but I'm sure I'm going to be able to get a good deal on this.
Crossing the ocean, sprinting in the horizon between the morning bell and the evening drum. Night, or sitting, or lying, or lying down.
I choose to stand in the wind Wind. Blow away countless notes, floating in the Milky Way, scattered into stars, warming the night wind in the cool loneliness.
The wind caresses the insomnia of the night, a mysterious thing enveloping the whole body, naked, unrestrained. Chasing time to fly, whether you can come quickly? Love is in love, thoughts are in thoughts.
Pouring, knocking, seeking, loving and longing for you. 3 Early fall morning, you smell into my sight.
This is not by chance, it is the ancient oath that was made when Pangu opened the world. This is the first time in the world that I have ever seen a person who has been in the world for a long time, and I have never seen a person who has never been in the world for a long time.
You, ferry me - from life to death. Entangled in the next open sentiment inspiring, can not suppress the burning of thoughts.
Words, actions, behavior, and stop are so tender, each action releases the surge of love. Crossing the sword to the sky, the liver and gall of love can be seen in heaven and earth.
The first thing you need to do is to stay on the ground with your sword, and you'll be able to see your heart in the right place. 4 The thoughts are so quiet, let the clamor drift in the lofty mountains.
Bathe in peace, leaving behind a thousand years of despair, confusing day and night. Cruising behind the years, the shadows are blurred, hiding the tired soul and body.
The cold comes and goes, the flowers blossom and fall, abiding in the direction you came from, believing that one day you will open this door. With the sunshine, wind, rain and snow in the unchanging tenderness.
Pour beautiful song. Notes step by step to drown out the footprints behind you, the return trip lost direction.
5 At the end of the night, the dawn gazed into your brilliant eyes, the waves surging. The mountain face and water, flowers and willow, dissolved in your eyes, inseparable.
Stopping in the watery years, torturing the watery years. Censoring the lonely channel, time withered at the end of the season, the ending withered.
The fading warmth is solidified in the top of the moon, jumping with wordless persistence. I am sad, lost.
Alone in the unimpeded landscape, crashing into the heart. 6 Curled up in the darkness of the dream soul, I fearlessly leaped onto the tide of first love, the waves filled the air.
Drunkenness. Encountered a string of solemn days without fate, in my emotional space hit a spark, shine but every inch of the universe in the quiet.
Approaching you, abiding love. In a hundred years, only you planted my dream in the heart, nourishing a big dream of life.
7 Walking through the railroad tracks, tracing the footprints you left behind, leading to the lingering thoughts, rusty. What do the rails hear? Meditation: I belong only to you, blood-dripping rose.
The blink of your eyes is a spring that warms the branches of love. 8 Rain's fingers, caressing my cheeks; my fingers, however, can not dry your tears, breaking the bank, flooding.
Flooded me to love the deep world. Digging out your heart - you to me.
It is not death that I fear. Rather, it is the parting that is engraved in my bones, the pain that fills the ripples of the long-lasting, day after day.
The smell of blood and gunpowder seeps out. Ah! I have to believe: you are the dreamer! 9 Who is it? Knocking on a door, entering my heart, articulating Eden's first love as fast as possible.
Growing madly. Adam and Eve.
A fire of first love, incinerating the clean sky. Happiness carries, like tea, long-lasting mellow flavor.
Deacon's hand, with his son to grow old ...... 10 Autumn rain showers, watering the bitterness of tears, decipher Abelard and love green Cherry love. Drift into the night of autumn, drunken heart, drunken moon.
Leaving a string of codes, on the railroad tracks, not yet developed. Remember to adopt ah.
5. How many poems written by Sanmao
Sanmao's poems
(is not much, but more than three, here are three)
Olive Tree
Don't ask me where I come from
My hometown is far away
Why wander
Wander far away
Wandering
Wandering
For the birds that fly in the sky
For the streams that flow gently in the mountains
For the wide meadows
Wandering far away
And also
For the olive trees in my dreams
Don't ask me where I'm from
My homeland is far away
Why do you wander
Why wander far away
For the olive tree in my dreams
Don't ask me where I come from
My hometown is far away
Why wander
Wandering far away Wandering far away
Waiting
You've waited and waited under the olive tree
I've wandered and wandered in a far away place
Life is a hidden dream
To redeem my regrets
Whenever the moon is full
I worship the olive tree alone
You'll never come again, I'll always be waiting
The more I wait, the more I love in my heart
Desert
The countryside of my past life spreads out in front of my eyes
Ah, the yellow sands of the
When I was tied up in this world
My heart drifted away and slowly
slowly fell into the dust
The wind that whistled in the sky
swept away the road to nowhere
The earth gave up its secrets
The desert was no longer just a desert
The desert became a well. The desert became a well, and inside the well
a pair of watery eyes
swung a smile