Modern Poetry
blooded reimpression
血的再版
Lo Fu
- Mourn Mother Poems
A
Read
Had repeated silent recitation
That flash you
Face
To create the cover sheet of gold
Yesterday
You are the wind turn seventy-seven
Then stopped
And become the only existing copies at home and abroad
And your blood
Also in my blood turns into a new word
In my flesh
Reprint
April, early lowering Guyu
Dusk was in
Hong Kong's long-distance calls
Came crashing
The exploding sound earth shattering
Say you have to go, not waiting for me
Mother
I held back the cry
I held a handful of dirt
I know that at the moment
You have had in my palm
And gradually seep into my vessel
My spine
I held back the cry
Alone in hiding in the study
Quietly
Sitting and watching the sun_set_ from the window, tiptoe through the
Evening once again,
Still warm afterglow
Indoor
Boil a pot over low heat in mourning
I pull the curtains
Rapid fall from the sky the night
Dressed in black clothes came to my sewing
Mother
I really did not cry
Only looking at a mirror journeying
Looking at
Hanging mirror
Teardrop
Flow to the lips after three decades
I bowed silently
Yan Fu, such as wind thistles after
Meditation with you -
Mother
Memory, such as a sharp knife
Institution front edge
You see me in the blood
I see you in the flesh
All the love and death
Desire and Perishable
Not only suffer the endless vine entanglement general
Have started from an umbilical cord
To that
Lifetimes
Around the wire into a thousand incessant
Silkworm
I was one of the pupae
When broken out silkworm
I'm covered with bloodshot
Went around looking for you
Let me tell you
How bitter end in a moth
How to burn us in the light of the pain
Mother, I chased you into the wilderness
Look around at a loss
I'm waiting for you to explain to me the meaning of time
Wait until
The thousandth time the moon rises
I am sadly puzzled
Why are not you one star
Tonight, I had to
Climbs the umbilical cord was still crawling to the starting point of life
But I just caught
Your cold hands
My cold hand
Dug out from the box you
Funerary pictures, there is a
Big Brother sad and silent letters
Letter caught the attention of the cold
Each word is hot hot
Three decades of isolation
Three years to tie him down
Day waiting
Excited to fly into the sky on both sides of the sea
A knot in the air
Or a bridge frame
Dream every night
Letter folded into a small boat
For hi Manjuan mad poetry and literature
And learn Lao Du
Yang a boat into the Dongting
Su Xiang, Zi, Yuan, Feng
And Bells in the
Cover your pillow full of hair
That stopped the boat pier miles
I am pleased to throw off the cable
But you grabbed my arm
Body
With the surging tide in the evening
Salty water damage of any
Spilled my skirt
Your pillow. . .
No, my pillow
Department of the boat was full of sorrow
Pillow
II
Even vaguely dream
But like a fast black plaster
Close to the
Three decades still unknown scarring of the wound
Mother, do you remember
Which way the cold night wind and snow load
I sheepishly approached the door unsteadily
Yard Shuangfeng has withered
Order has been disabled before the Chrysanthemum
Reservoirs in the hustle and bustle of childhood
Has been condensed into the ice below zero
Then
Along the 俱寂
The village without lights, no sound bang
Weeds buried Path
I have no childhood return
Cold wind blowing fluttering clothing
Cold, the mother
I'm attracted to your window candle
Tiptoe step onto the stone steps
Leaves the crushing foot ring
Thin broken pieces, while heart rate step
I raised my hand knocked on the door
And slumped down
I am afraid I heard the door ring A stranger exclaimed
Can not bear to see you wake up after more
Hold only
A cold
So I tiptoe near your window
I saw you sideways's clothes
Floating close to the shadow of the wall curl
Fires are out
Clock Sishuiyouxing
Coffee table next to detour to a cane
Stick side
Lay a pair of thin black cloth shoes
Star vague shapes of snow in the yard
White, such as infant
If you are feeding my breasts clothing solution
Now, you have dry hair teeth
Weidun into
The only photograph of his father left wall
Yu bitter landscape
Between the amount of weeds from your
I read out
Vast between heaven and earth
And vaguely hear your tears
Prehistoric through the universe
Through a history of dropping
Mother
Why do not you speech
Why do not you see I looked to one side
You may have heard
Exclaimed my less than hush money
Mother, why do not you speak
I have been in your window
The snow stops two inches thick, three-inch, five-inch
You see, my eyebrows have switched dyed white
Of course, the snow is not entirely
Also mixed with three decades of dust and soil, desolate months
Cold, the mother
You quickly turned in to see me face the tears
Alas, too late
Tear
Has formed an icicle
I have a dream
Do not dream of skin hair
Dream resist cold and hunger How can
That year parting
You plug in my luggage in a sweater
Long as our home
Broken, broken
A hole in one scar
Thirty years ago a jacket
Turned over to wear
Three years later, is the new gowns
Tentacles at a cold
Only your call
- Or the gentle sound of inwit
You that warm embrace, such as a pot of charcoal
Perception will be that I deeply
The best way to go home heating
Whether in a dream
Smile in Carnation
Or a small candle flame. . .
C
Same accent, the temples have been bad
Mother
Cold and heat rushed to press more than thirty
I am still just a
End of the World's Lone Wild Goose chase
Sunrise moon_set_
High mountains
I still adhere to the direction of the first wings
Spring, I had too much rain, rivers and lakes involved
Summer, I had wings swept the earth
If a manufacturing situation circled peak of peregrine falcons
In the fall
I'm exhausted like a kite
Off the line after all the sky with
After the winter
However, I am anxious marching thin ice
River rapids again to start the journey
Years ago the kind of Qu Yuan in the Miluo
Cold journey
And my Lament
Eczema and solitude Zeyi written in subtropical
General stubborn psoriasis
Immense expansion of nostalgia written
Is the root of green water chestnut without charge
Nymphoides sp is more hands and grasp the soil
With the clouds the water footprint
To the rolling cloud of dust
To a castle rising from the clouds
To the cries of
Loud cool and bright and did not understand the Evening Bell
Traveled alone
Sweat southeast, die in the Northwest
Any time
Knife to knife
I have no scales will be no cut fins
Left more than one body prickly stems bone
Afraid only afraid, windy evening twilight
More leaves in the wind
Murmur in
Also see
Autumn blood-red cheeks from holding Shuangfeng
Months
It is said that a certain day will be rounded
Will it? Mother
Some rain this fall, said partial
Really nasty
Sky Miles are Mexican
On the fifth floor balcony
Rendanruju
Before the boarding
Long bursts of panic mood tempted
Solutions to suit the wind
披襟 and singing
Residual sound in relying on a choking choking Qingke
Well, how can no monthly Mid-Autumn Festival
No monthly taught me how to imagine your face early
Teach me how to sense
Night's town center
Vibrations of five
Mother, you are a pine
Extending the arms and other migratory birds return, and
Years of thunder and switch
Moth-eaten cream hit years
Ten unexamined
You have become dry leaves, bare branches
Greenfield no longer heard the wind of sorrow and no report on the sun_set_ over same applies
Silent hill
The stars on your forehead, silent and blind
You have also asked the day looking up
Double Vision Sky is more than your loss
You reach out to the snow
Snow cold to give you a slap in the face
No curse, no escape
You quietly chewing
People assigned to your loneliness and despair
Side slopes of their children rolling hoops
Large flowers on the hillside lay large flowers of dogwood
Dandelion wind far and wide
Then the past is a shallow stream
Spring surge is waiting
It brings a group of fish for the baby's frivolity
At this time, the mother
I seem to hear
You leaned against the water themselves, call out:
"My children?
Although dry my milk
However, the remainder being vigorously sucking the pain still fresh in
Where are you?
Where are you?
Night's town center
Vibrations of five
Throbbing because we with you with its concentration of blood
Tears, with its salty
Mother, you know
In the horizon beyond the horizon
In the night's Bihaiqingtian
I was the only space in light years away
Burning their Neptune
IV
Tree leaves are still
Endless, but the wind
Son wants
Instead. . . Mother ah
Where you along the river
Included in which sea?
Tonight, a quiet, long
Exclaimed the moon in the stars after jumping into the sea
Sudden stop in the watch after midnight
After all the litter in the sunflowers
After the rain
After a cold nose
Just one crashed into the cold
After that warm swaddle your
I am stunned speechless
Could be so difficult relieved to -
Why do not you and me thirty years ago a
Thirty seconds of a call through
Serve part forever
Mother, where are you?
I seek you in stormy waters
Had to do a thousand sails
No one is actually your face
Seek you in the swamp of heavy
Pin not see you through the step
Seek you in the hub of Long Lane
Only faintly heard
The city lights are calling your name
Grassland seek you in the morning
Newly sprung in one of the white ginger flower in the water
_Set_ in the evening peak
Eagle from the sky at dusk Jueya fan
Nanshan its might, wind Hair
Mother, where are you?
At this time I only see
The more a _set_ting sun sink deeper
The cold which the United States
More
Light
Mother
Night, quiet, quiet,
I held back the cry
Alone in hiding in the study
Sit done a candle
And lit a
Once again, I spread that letter crumpled letter
When read
Ah my son my son. . .
Suddenly see the flickering candlelight
Are you coming?
Or a burst of wind had come for an unknown?
Death
Is a pure travel
Another process of reproduction of life
Maybe next spring
Yang with a straight face I see you Qiangzai
Shining in the mountain peach petals
Because you are the branches, but also pollen
You are the roots, but also fruit
You are the river yesterday Liu
Today you are in the smoke Liu
You are the rock, stone fire
You are the clouds, clouds in the electric
You are the sea, the sea salt
If you are the humble moss
If you are the solemn morning
Your soft sound of water, such as South
You are as strong as years of Han Yu
I looked up, you are vast moon
I bowed, you are vast land
I have wings, you send me to Traveling Miles
I step, you lead me to far-off road
Mother
Ni I dig mine
I steel refining
Paved track of my ribs
Let my son, my grandson
I choose to always adhere to the
Mother
Tonight, a quiet, long
I really did not cry
Thirty years ago the drop of tears
Air-dried in the mirror already
You become gray
Into the soil
Time into the vast
You are in the history of a drop of blood
I was a reprint of your blood
One thousand million copies
Yuanyuan
A long history. . . . .
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