现代中国 杨唤 Yang Huan  现代中国   (1930~1954)
I engaged
Melic Conduit 10
homesickness
Hanging off of the Star
花与果实
Multiple poems at a time
Modern Poetry

Melic Conduit 10
诗的喷泉(十首)

   Yang Huan

1 dusk
Evening Bell wall Miller sounded by my silence,
Riding on a donkey to Jerusalem to the Holy One has not come back.
Do not ignore the lamp's cunning wink,
Please tell me: Who first lit a match?
2 Way
Car wheel, horse hoof, horn flashing, flag hunting,
The will is not exhausted forward.
Why should we complain that innocent shoes?
You! Put out the torch, dry pond fish.
3 look
Each one is a shower of bright silver beat word
Crazy lightning that lit to the title is one line of action.
Threshold from the night woke up the dream of a black cat hoot open
Listening to loud thunder rolled clear message for my report.
4 Cloud
Do not I take a walk on the roof of the blue sky [
My pigeons have informed you: I am not gallery camp followers.
How do I see a knife with a pencil abuse of the spade queen,
You will know: This season, the fruit should be allowed to mature quickly.
5 Summer
Incandescent. Incandescent. The voice of the pioneers of the call.
Decline. Decline. Love those holding the weight of the blood.
When Phoenix is flying into that raging fire
Why, I would sleep in the cool shade of the cross.
6 birds
Flew into the old poet's poetry in India, Persia, the Queen's hand jump,
Me? As dumb silence those stupid without wings.
阿里斯多芬 once carried into the theater of his vision,
Franc penguins who are not my country's berthing port.
7 diary
Yesterday, Tan. Close your soul through the narrow
Bandit Banquet Schiller, Nietzsche's superman.
Today, sunny. Polish the camera's eye,
Van Gogh's sunflowers blame shooting, Rodin spring.
8 hunt
Mountain village with gun hunters,
Owl and do not sound crazy grinning.
There is water in the desert girl
Camel ah, please do not tell your silence wide and sorrow.
9 Confessions
Vatican's like to die my faith kilns prisoners
Counterfeit currency was never afraid of the sun makers.
Prodigal closing day of the trial crawl home
If wheat die, where we go to harvest food?
10 Tears
Lullaby in the cradle into the hazy edge of the excessive vascular,
Until today, woke up, knew I was the sea to the abandoned shell.
Both hands and kissed the soil of the Song of Solomon could not decorated with beads,
Yeah this fountain of poetry, is suffering from the Nile.
  
Created by: 杯中冲浪
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