Selected poems of mulberry

LetterNo. 1 If it is your happiness that I am alive, then I will live well, never go to strange streets to see the lost distance again, never go to the noisy city to be alone again, and all life will die. If my death will be your disaster, then please tell me what to do. On the boundless grassland, the autumn wind brings your voice. In the high sky, you smile and stare at me with a faint expression, which makes me warm. I want to tell the world that everything about me is full of tears. Leaves fall in autumn, and those cocoons stick to the trees. Can you tell me which butterfly is in summer and which one is in summer? Which flower is on the boundless grassland? I am still alive, but I can't give you any help. I can only wait here for the first flower to open quietly next year and the first butterfly to fly as promised next year. 10, it won't be long before we live together. It's hard to protect your young appearance. You are alone in the autumn night. What I heard at the window was the sound of falling rain. I have a lot of enthusiasm every day, but it is hard to know which valley and grassland I will be in tomorrow. It's hard to know when it will flow to your roof. When I am alone, I call out your name, and all my relatives call out those who have given me smiles and tears all my life. Now, however, winter is getting colder every day. I know how you feel. Every time I go out, there is a cold wind blowing in my heart. So, once you accept my kindness, please accept all my soft feelings. I know my thin shoulders can't bear too much wind and rain and too much dark weather. I don't want you to look forward to the future in the storm like me. I also know that the passage of time will change everything for me. At that time, my feet were deserted, and your world should be lush. what can I say? The world is infinite in my heart. However, the old soul will still pray for your happiness through the lush, but will not make any noise. 13 Spring is coming. Dear, I really want to see you, like a happy child sleeping in a warm bed or staying at home, watching your cheeks rosy, healthy and strong, like a pair of biological children intertwined to watch you pluck the golden strings of poetry, sing praises for the ewe in my mountain or pick up the weak cradle together. Dear, your hearts must be filled with the joy of your little mother. I really want to see you and you. Guests from all over the world, guests from plants and trees, guests from the God of Light, morning dew, self-condensation in your golden MaiQuan, happy dreams have blossomed. Who gave you the supreme power to fill your cups all day? I know that your heart is also full of disappointment and pain, and more is full of commemoration and enthusiasm. Don't doubt the stormy waves in the middle of the night Don't be frightened by the dark side like herold and indulge in misfortune. My relatives in the sea, the light of the sun has been blown out by the wind, but the stars have not stood up. Now I light them. This night is a calm sea. My relatives, please go. In the first 14 spring rain, flowers opened and young trees began to grow, because I miss the days when I came to the hills. Because I miss the pain and happiness that I have to live in the mountains regardless of the floating world. You are my ideal. You are my strength. What magic does this plant have? What's the hint of running water? This god of light full of morning breeze, in the earthly heart, your beauty and gentleness. It seems that an idle God is like a joyful harp. I came to the hill because I missed me. I come from a distant grassland because I miss you. I called your name and stared at the shining light on your face. I stare at the crystal green hanging on you. There is no wealth like red wine, nor dignity like a docked boat. I was going to live in the mountains because I missed you. Even if I am haggard and emaciated, the piano sounds dry, even if my eyes are dim, you are still as bright and beautiful as ever in my heart, intoxicated by my lips. I will stay on the mountain forever, stay in your name forever for your enthusiasm, and send my courage and sincerity into your dreams and into the underground palace of the divinity of earthly sleep. Leaving only our eternal loyalty. No.65438 +08 Simple life makes people trivial. Dear people, your heart is cheerful and broad. This is my luck. I am an idle poor man. Your warm praise and enlightenment moved me silently. I gradually get used to and change. Like a wanderer near the end, I finally understand the weight of your life support. I no longer expect to be close to the beautiful God. She is too mysterious and too heavy. I just want to live with you actively and get rid of it. Be grateful, just as my mother's painstaking efforts can't make me live in America, but it can make working people live like this. When all the sins are quiet, there is no longer servility and indifference in the blood. What we left behind was sobriety and glory. This is also the Qingyuan and truth that the soul has verified. I no longer want to cut the thorns alone. Because of you, I won't go with the flow. For the sake of purity, any dazzling light will disappear with hard work and simplicity. Although not outstanding, it retains purity and stability, but it can leave kindness and kindness. Just like the lingering joy and joy in your eyes, just like the holy and unrestrained life that I have been trembling inside. I finally understand the weight of your life support. My nostalgia and enthusiasm for staying in the grassland are the bridge for you to dance in the sunshine in the morning when you travel. By the river where you were baptized, the layer of fine dust-like resentment and expectation that has just been erased. My cotton-padded jacket, my life, you are finally born, like a star coming to the deep room, like the light from the east wind. You finally came to this world. I should light a candle for you or make a bed for you, so that you won't be frightened like a bird, or let people know your arrival, or close the door to thank the guests for talking to your mother. I am tired because of your weakness, because my mother gave birth to you very hard, and because I am worried that I can't get rid of my physical and mental suffering. When I sat at the table, I prayed to God again and again to give you health, just like giving me my own flesh and blood. I am willing to trade my health for your health and my life for your calmness. I beg you to grow up safely, shed your inherent weakness and never hurt yourself again. Your arrival is enough for me to shout loudly, my child, my life, I want to do good deeds and burn incense for your physical and mental truth, I want to accept your life, shoulder blood and chew God's happy child. I can't give you the beauty of brocade, but you gave me the bright moon. When the sunset was taken away by the hand of arranging flowers, countless flames wandered on the grassland for hundreds of millions of years, and the gloom of the exiled soul was illuminated by this wandering flame. Countless lives are looking for this bright flame, which is the ashes of the sun, the passion of the moon, and the flower whose desire for flame turns into death. Confusion into a dreamy sea, like a reserved and incomplete butterfly, gently picks all the destinations on the cheeks in the dark night, and in the dark, deeper thoughts enter the memory. If the hand of the heart of wisdom reaches out, another jade pot will pierce the heart of night in advance. The stars in the sky have no unspeakable brilliance, no evil that cannot be illuminated, and no unimaginable beauty. There is no need to be closely linked with sacrifice. In the process of flame burning, the vast high rhyme pours down, and the world is just a pile. Who can know the voice of the river, the bird burning the forest, the fish abandoning the water, and the people who have gone through vicissitudes of life are willing to throw their heads and sprinkle gold easily. The noble heart is that they pinch their lips in the endless night. They taught me to wrap my loneliness more tightly and bury it deep in my heart. They taught me to entrust my ambition to my heart and wait for my lonely heart. The bell of prayer disappeared with the cold smoke. This lonely fire, this poor fire, this sacrificial blood spilled down, and this bitter bone of my body and mind grew. Do they have anything to do with me? That kind of pain and extreme gentleness, that kind of tearful eyes with low eyebrows and fire. Broken dreams in my arms, skins covered with blood and hunger, are all in stop for a minute, the branch of fire, and then walk away from the flowers of suffering. Let's light this flame. If love doesn't raise its head with the flame, if it's just wild celery as a tribute, even if the secret words of hundreds of millions of years are plausible, any waist will be extinguished in an instant, even if you know it. Nothing can be cherished except the wandering of the lonely fire. When generosity is illuminated by beauty, life is like iron and death is like gold. The rest of the heroism was swept away by beauty, and then I came back to clean up the residual salary. Beautiful face has been disheartened. What a wrong burning, it is hard for me to * * * it when I am old. The beautiful face of the yoke provides a place for the endless loss of life. Only this flame is illuminating any wrong experience, bringing simplicity back to the bottom of my heart and returning Leng Yan to the flame. Sweet lips and sweet lips had a heart-to-heart conversation. Beauty and beauty complement each other. The heart of fire never contains a drop of sadness in the arms of love. I don't know that when a firebird is born, one must die. The cruelty behind this ancient legend. I know nothing about this, but the pearls of the moon are scattered one by one, penetrating the cold chest with glory and kindness. I saw the edge of the flame floating around, and countless lives relived old dreams. I heard exiled souls crying on the grassland at night. I saw all my faces wet in the moonlight water, waiting for death in the grassland at night. In the autumn night, red dresses are floating around. I see a noble smile and will never sleep to death. I think the flower god, though determined to win, left a fragrance. Cool breeze is a temporary death, which makes the heart of everything calm, revive and sublimate. Those beautiful flowers are not without sadness after withering, those beautiful faces are not without pain after aging, and those beautiful dreams are not without sigh after being shattered. Only in the grassland night, in the mourning before death, when all the stars of wisdom are hiding behind the night, they feel dejected. It is the wandering flame that makes me never forget the beauty and joy of yesterday. If the earth is full of thirst, the rain will turn into painful pain, and the fruits of life will be poured into hidden cups. If life is still full of confusion because of Gao Xian, I am the firewood of this flame, not only for your happiness, but also for your happiness. In order to let the seasonal songs blown away by the wind continue to sing on the boundless grassland, I look forward to their longing for their flower arranging hands every night, which has taken away the body of the sunset. Although the dream is still far away, there are bundles of flames rushing out from the center of the earth from the bottom of my heart. This is the burning of bare stone. This is the burning of a transparent river. This is the beautiful moonlight. Burning This is the burning of the bone colonization of the soul ... when life is no longer a phalanx of sacrifices and heroes, and it is no longer a pile of bones. When the hymn leaves the smell of power, stand at attention and rest. This lonely flame burns not only correction, but also criticism. No, life will be humiliated and fought not only in the blood of faith, but also in the wandering and statements of the flame again and again. What she predicted would be more about rebirth and freedom of life. Bones began to burst into the sky for firewood, and the night became so beautiful and calm. The bright road, she seems to constitute all the innocence of life, and the whole pure and pure heart burns a bright cradle, which is shaken again by me. Flowers that ripple between heaven and earth and make life more sacred and beautiful. When the sunset was taken away by the hand of arranging flowers, countless flames wandered on the grassland. They are not the last shining wisdom in this world, like water. The liver and intestines are like snow, burning in the arms of the night, the small bacteria in autumn seem to make a sound under my feet, and the cheeks of youth fly away under the fire, and the dream is very near and far away. Under the firelight, there is no sound on the vast grassland at night, and the highland barley wine dinner in the wilderness is far from ready. Only in this burst of firewood can they soar through the window of time. I saw them lying in bundles on the cold plateau. From their tired posture, I realized that the dance of life ran out of beautiful cups at the bright dinner for the first time, and all the moving red shadows were dancing for the remaining warmth ... The long road of life has no end. This is not the starting point. For the footsteps of displacement, she is just the surging flame of grassland facing this lonely flame at night, the poor flame of flowers facing natural suffering, the beautiful flowers, and the wind of Leng Ye tightening my belt. In the bell of prayer, I woke up the daughter of poetry, and the stars are houses. Caohai is a bed. I raise a glass to the happiness of all life. I light firewood for all the displaced souls in the northeast of Qinghai-Tibet Plateau. The endless Gannan grassland is taken away by the hand of flower arranging in the sunset, and the surrounding life is full of fragrance. My family brought me endless Qiu Ge candied fruit, and the bells of autumn insects singing frost and blessing echoed with the wind for a long time in ................................................................................................................. livestock. The ecstasy of life and the disappointment of the spiritual shrine are all inexplicably delayed rides. On the grassland at dusk, the spiritual shrine of dignity sinks and revives under the arcade of the shrine, and then rises above everything and life in the camp. When the car gallops on the grassland, the meaningful road to conversion, the golden halo around the horse's neck, and when she is exhausted, the race of the golden yoke totem kneeling in the iron ring has not changed its chastity, but has long been far away from the confirmation of truth. The red dust I breathed also caused fear and anxiety, and the work was heavier and more fierce. I fell to the ground. Grasping the shackles of the land is always necessary for me to shake my car when pain and disaster come. The dust also disappeared with the wind. From the wilderness to the wilderness, scarlet propped up the tall crow. They came from the creator's heavy shoulders and forced their way into my chest, activating the cold blood of greasy bones. Moreover, the life they see, the sleep they see, the scarlet and the scattered wolf smoke they see, and the birth they see are only half of the longest life. They can't abandon, let alone stay, and take a leisurely ride, as if they brought germs and anxiety from Kximani. Weak-willed people can't control the sheep under the arcade of the temple, and the snow spirit sought after by everyone is guided by the controller. The glory of annihilation passed through the drunken space, and the high-flying crow kept hovering overhead. Although their flight is lifeless, if you don't get on the bus with them, you will eventually die with your young bloodline. Your sins were forgiven before you died, or I was really old. I just want the temple to give me a kind son, so that I can keep my true spirit and live kindly forever. As for the birth of boiling Xue Jing and riots, it will be pinned on purity. There are still those who have been castrated, those who are wise, and those who have taught me classics and wisdom. I have decided that they will eventually disappear, and I will never find a chance to reunite in my heart. The deeper will seems to be like fire. I know that the arrival of that day will ultimately depend on myself rather than the young citizens who will live in the park forever. Of course, I must also firmly believe that a heart without thoughts will never become dignified. It will not rely on economic power, but only from religious belief. Who can read joy, remembrance and enthusiasm in this silence? And I must firmly believe that the dignity of the soul is in the world. Those tiny lonely people who cross the high wall of tyranny, those who are arrogant because of blind obedience, and those who enjoy this deep spirit without material armor, will leave their quiet jobs and carve their names on the stake, leading to the loss of power. When it was held on the slave's chest, the silence was full of flattery, and those who resisted the revolution were deeply and cleanly baptized by the Holy Spirit, leaving empty words for the dead. It was white when I gripped Shen Lu's yoke, but I have been immersed in dictatorship for longer than any life in the world. I no longer tolerate life, and I am no longer willing to accept imprisonment and dictatorship. Even dignity and even fantasy will lead us to such an exit. First, the heirs of the land, and second, the reactionaries of the land contributed to the establishment of the temple. The principle that land cannot be taken away has finally been verified in our work and accepted by history. Those who have warm ideals and excellent qualities, those free elements and those wise people are not for their own glory, but those who obey the lowest and most sacred order, supporting the initial goodness of mankind, not in the flame, but in the early spring of the evening grassland. The seeds of betrayal seem to be to soothe poor lives, but also to stimulate blood, not to be defiled, not to be involved in competition, and to be baptized in those calm flows. The defense from heresy is that the fighter who is lonely in front of the grass is excellent, while the hesitator is the one who is far away from the core of the dispute. The eternal clock is beating my soul, but it is deeply hidden. When sleep is crowded and suffocating, the will is flying alone. Although it can't be as light as the wind, it is no longer addicted, and there will be no dreamless sleep. Because of the mutual destruction of with fire and sword, wage earners hold torches. The strength of the body does not come from the top of the house, but from the vitality of China. Wall dancing and ankle lifting are even more intense, crushing blind spots and further forming a solid low structure in the grassland at dusk. Along the sunken rut, there is strength in my chest. I really didn't come to listen to prayer. Compared with those castrated tough guys, I am neither a strong man nor a sacrifice to supply blood to the strong man. When the car at dusk is driving high on the earth and shaking between the end of the world and birth, the silence has long been disturbed. Tough people are also listening with tears. When the car passed the spreading mountain road from shallow water, it even took me to meet the arrival of the rich. Livestock. Even if it is not annihilated, it must rely on its own tenacity to save itself on the grassland at dusk. Under the arcade of the temple, firewood was piled for the last supper. Land and milk can't be taken away. A dull car can only take away the endless dust like sadness, those who have ideals and excellent qualities, and those lonely fighters. When power leads to the loss of power, only the temple of land in the world will remain forever, and beauty and eternity will travel through loneliness and fatigue, just like a dull car riding a rash heart on the grassland. It will always be just the sand flowing in the car forever. This sand and sheepskin will always be filled with decay and injustice, tormenting the hearts of the tenacious. Whenever I kneel on the golden yoke of the iron ring, I am no longer as light as the wind, and I don't want to hide in the sound of forged iron in Sumen Valley. Those who are proud of playing ball in Lin Mang and drifting away give their thunder and grace to the lonely existence in the autocratic city walls. What we can insist on is the dance with fire and sword, and I am really old, and it is difficult to play the joy of the sky again. I am a follower of fire. Since I can't push the delayed car out of Lu Chen, I'd rather die with it on the meaningful conversion road and walk lonely soldiers with high ankles. Although the bleeding wage earners hold the torch, they can no longer sing in a vertical voice, as if to stimulate the blood without being defiled. It seems that life exists alone above death and above heaven. It is better to catch up with the warmth of the backward car galloping on the grassland at dusk and dance with the scarlet crow. Sing a song, or just don't put out the flame in your chest. The only thing that can't be taken away in this world will be life, away from power and camp. My infatuation comes from the high sky. Whenever pain and disaster come, the sound of forging iron in Sumen Valley really hits me. I grabbed the car I shook, and I grabbed the fascination because I was alive. Because I am still alive, I will kneel on Lu Chen's yoke, which is made of gold hoop. 38660.6886888666 1