Modern Poetry
paris
巴黎
Ya Xian
Chennai with Chennai Margaret, on the bed I will you say?
Your lips soft velvet shoes
Trampling over my eyes. In the evening, six o'clock in the evening
When a meteorite stun me, Paris would enter
A wretched era are in bed
Between the stars in the evening and
The grass was Jianxue
Between the roof and the dew
Rosemary in the womb open
You are a Valley
You are a mountain flowers look good
You are a pie, shivering in the diseased mice and color
Timid and [point to note] [Points death] is between stealing chewing
How much can the load of a grass stem the truth? God
Midnight when the eye is accustomed to the poppy
And the soles of the silk sky, When the blood vessels such as the dodder
From your lap winding to the south
Last year, the snow can still recall those violent footprints? God
When a baby is cursed with a slim cord desolate cry
When he hide his face through the Notre Dame next year
He did not give unto them, and insignificant, the era in bed
You are a river
You are a stem of grass
You do not remember any footprints, and last year's snow
You are fragrant, sweet shoes
Between the Seine and the reasoning
Who choose to die
Between despair and Paris
CD Tower Support Heaven
July 30, 1958
|