ancient style poetry
Maple
枫印
Zhang Cuo
Along the stone steps in the past,
In addition to a touch of startling Taihen,
Is a pool of water-soaked beach sparse,
The shape of water damage,
Is impressively printed out one hand like maple ─ ─
Seems indelible,
Will never disappear,
Experience Chuanghen,
In any case masking dark green moss in winter,
Inevitably intentionally or unintentionally,
Declared to the world the message of a non-scratch ─ ─
The red was too fiery life ah!
To be permanently branded with the fiery memories.
But why can sure each meeting,
Is met after the departure?
Why after departure can not be sure,
Is to meet together again?
Why all be attributed to a _set_ number?
Is obviously a painful love,
Have to struggle?
Obviously happy protection
Have to escape?
Why wait until this time only the vicissitudes of love a man?
Why wait until the hair before going to pity him?
Why wait until the best poetry before reading it?
Why is love,
Must have two identities
One kind of birthright?
"It is with gratitude and look forward to full-empty,
To give you light and warmth,
I personally Cun Liang,
Reserved for you, far away to Ben,
How contradictory and difficult,
You must have been deliberating ─ ─
To come or not come,
To see or not see.
Although how I treasure every moment of the past,
How to look forward to every moment of the future,
But now embarrassed of you,
But unrest in the struggle
How to go back on a promise. "
"Why do you deep sigh
Always has a long bitterness?
Why are you hesitant look,
Total dreamy eyes with her daughter?
Why is there love,
Must not occur in the two cities?
Never defeated country's era,
And With Guchenniezai grudge?
Why do you wait for my long straight vicissitudes,
I like to wait for the best poet,
It chose me? "
However, in numerous universities cold evening,
Go out into the deserted a good gesture!
Is actually still do not know the night is the night,
Is still constantly afraid of loneliness lonely ─ ─
Grief in solitude,
And even refusal alone!
Everywhere you look around a loss,
Montreal is a noisy fluttering leaves,
Is no one around,
The left circle to your right arm,
So the wind rustled the ring,
XiXi of rain in the next,
You Juju Dishou the line,
Nobody pay attention to you,
No one respect you,
No one knows you,
You are a myriad of falling maple leaves,
Blood stains sweet,
Chinese mind while you are pain,
Living in the next,
While the number of all attributed to the fall of life,
If this is the dirge of the middle-aged,
The Chinese sunny spring day,
Always waiting for the next generation of young people.
As everyone has been, once fresh, green too,
And wait in the branches toward the sky,
But this time India is maple,
"Is a lonely,
Always alone. "
You Kuiran Ertan,
Then hands tighten the skirt,
Disappeared in the panic of the night, rain, and wind.
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