Modern Poetry
homesickness 乡愁
Chang Yao
His sorrow was. He thought his fast valley. There, close to the cliff of bare rock, Leisurely lick his yak Grass under the snow line. In the marsh, One of his foals are raised hooves, Open bay's shallow water levy Ran toward the other side of the dam, Panic but to Hui Hui Jiao Chen....... Where the sun is thick glaze. Where the air is filtered ice and snow, Mixed with the stinging sense of the cream, Leaves of Grass And yeast aroma...... - I'm not the one who Homesickness in the street under the shepherd, Sleepwalking with me the fate of land?
|