Modern Poetry
Die stone
殒石
Zheng Chouyu
Small die stone from the sky, a list of the river in his hometown
Like the roots of plants, like the green leaves and white flowers
Mao, Progress of the fairy tale of these long, let the children pick
The universe of these rare guests
Sat stiffly in the river, talking coldly past
Lightly tides slap, slap
When the mist hanging unadorned, low Margaret Kam Shop
The die stone nestling plants have a short sleep we are
Naturally, I often walked, and often stay
Tapping some of my forgotten childhood, and memories of the silent
Days of the original at the end of the blue, a little hut
I remember that my mother call out the window
That black and cold of space and clarity and vast echo
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