Modern Poetry
coronach
挽歌
Xi Chuan
A
Death of our mouth shut
Then this is the moment the bell submerged trees in summer
Is the sound of flapping birds blue sky
Birds in the clouds and weak heartbeat
The wind has left the city, like a ship anchor
Inseparable from a glittering green river surging mainland
You, a girl can open the strawberry
Away from the window; from your walk with the shadow
To speak with a dream, water in the name of our companion
Death of our mouth shut
Followed by the _set_ting sun at this moment in this river
Baby on his knees, gray tower in the city on his back
I went into the streets beyond recognition
After a day or a week I will come here
Saltpeter and pebbles from the cool flame
I remember a long lost pigeon
Make a release position, and in fact I want
Is that it quietly back to my heart
Death of our mouth shut
Cicadas in the hot summer is not a song by song
The elderly during the hot summer months almost true story
Peaks during the hot summer is not peak, there is no fog
The village is not in the hot summer months the village, no one
Rocks in the hot summer is not stone, but metal
In the hot summer night than the night, no one sleep
I write poetry is not poetry
I think people are not real people
II
I will never know by chance or desire to
You fall from the tower to us
This is a bloody young eagles fall to
Hot flower garden in July
How many eyes wide open to hear the sad news
Because your blood spattered sprinkled on the street
And soil can no longer separate
Because this is not the story of the death but
Real death; does not matter do not mind the ugly U.S.
You left us forever
A place to stay forever
Because this is the real death, we are standing silent
Language exists only for the living
A thought of the road disappeared in the waters of July
Spill your blood spattered on the street
Hidden in a loss of pleasure and pain behind the emergence
The door opened, it came before us, so quiet
Rose in full bloom now to the season
Over the fate of that touch your little hand feebly on the side
Your youth face a blur
You girls breasts began to grow wormwood
And your feet come into contact with the earth's internal
Absence of the sky in your eyes I saw the
A huge question mark a sickle Life
Now you should we pull into your
Numbness of the mind, not the abyss of the moon
So I had to kneel down and close your eyes
Then I have to put my own eyes
Deeply closed, and you say goodbye
C
Her take it away
Jing flowers to wear on her head
Incineration in the fire in her
That is no longer split her bones
She no longer fly
Remember the love of her short
She no longer fly
People who hurt her memories
Clear memories of our city
Her longing cloudy
Not her flower rocks
Silence to see the flowers of apple trees
She no longer fly
I can not measure her summer
She no longer needs the truth
She has become the patron saint of her own
Ah, her water and seeds
I can not pray
Water and seeds
I can not pray for her
Rain on her eyelashes
What kind of mouse to meet
And the North Star
The wisdom of what kind of gold-plated
Ah, she no longer fly
Subdue her tears
Her breathing is no longer
Exciting rhythm
IV
I will never know by chance or desire to
A big girl like you standing next to me
A girl as tall as you stand next to me
One and the same name like you girl standing next to me
Like you, like a pretty girl standing next to me
The distance of a busy market
When I lived life with a rope to ask you Xinjiang
The meaning of life, you have not answered my mouth
But with this whole sad evening
A large group of girls standing by my side
You were dead, they live, shuddered, desire to live
They put your blood into your body to accept
After years of fearful mothers recalled
That day (that is the future of your world)
The body was gently on white, summer snow
A body without a future to enjoy a quiet moment
So do not exist, the moon Hanbaoyufang
Does not exist, you warm on the purple dresses
I will use the time to your life, is not it?
After many years of wind rushed into this street
Like a group of soldiers rushed in, marched singing songs
Then I saw my hand, with
Messy start in the apple tree wounds
I will amend my broken elegy
Restore it to the dawn of your style
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