White on White
　　Yao wind Translation
　　A
　　Make a key, even if very small
　　Can also enter the house.
　　In the sweet in the praise of
　　Material dream and bird sympathetic.
　　Pray for fire, light
　　And physical on both sides of the music.
　　Do not say that the stone, said to be windows
　　You do not like the shadow of the same.
　　Talk about the man, talk about the kids, talk about the stars.
　　You repeat the syllable in
　　Light, happy, and refuse to leave.
　　You will say: men, women, children.
　　In this, the United States is more youth.
　　II
　　This is a place south, in this
　　Lime riots
　　Challenges attention.
　　You have in this life. Sometimes in his sleep
　　You still live here. Water birth name
　　Flowing from your mouth.
　　Goats along the road, you go
　　Beach, beating the sea
　　Those rocks, those syllables.
　　On the first day or last day
　　Light in the
　　Drowning eyes disappear.
　　This is perfect.
　　C
　　Rain falls in the dust, just as fall
　　Li Bai's poems. In the South
　　Time has a pair of big round eyes;
　　In the south, wheat roll,
　　It's mane the wind and dance,
　　This is my last ship
　　Fluttering flags;
　　In the south, the land exudes the smell of white linen,
　　Exudes the aroma of bread on the table,
　　The hot yellow sun occupied water
　　It fell to the dust, light and hot.
　　Like the poem falls.
　　IV
　　Cling to your cheeks sadness, no longer even
　　Listening nightingale singing. Perhaps the Thrashers?
　　You insufferable air, your faithful mother's land,
　　Also true blue sky, birds in the blanking,
　　Air-to-separated heaven and earth.
　　Music, so we called,
　　Always be your wounds, but also
　　Mania on the hill.
　　Do not listen attentively Nightingale. Or thrust.
　　In the depths of your
　　All the music is a bird.
　　V
　　A friend, sometimes the desert,
　　Sometimes water.
　　None of you from August
　　Noise; a body is not always
　　This place: light quietly bare
　　Lemon filled with birds,
　　Summer living on the hair;
　　Leaves in the dark sleep between
　　Moist skin
　　Shine,
　　Tongue hard to bloom.
　　Is a real word.
　　Six
　　White stork.
　　Brought me the church courtyard,
　　There are two or three houses should be white,
　　There are towers, the white stork in this
　　Touched down, then
　　I Love comes like mulberry,
　　The sun in the mouth suffocation,
　　You remember? Perhaps this is another mouth,
　　Another reason for the heavy, I do not remember,
　　I use stones
　　To make you afraid of dog sent packing,
　　And flee
　　I loved to quietly embrace
　　Brown pony.
　　Seven
　　Now I live more close to the sun, friends
　　Do not know the way here: This very good,
　　I do not belong to any person, in the high branches,
　　A brother, crossing birds, listen to its song of freedom,
　　As image, reflecting the different images,
　　Polish
　　There is no community alert eyes,
　　Only tides, with the coming and going
　　Enthusiasm by the forgotten structure,
　　The surface is sweet foam dust,
　　Nothing more.
　　Eight
　　The balcony is a wonderful family place
　　Wind blowing from here.
　　I found my body, I
　　Sunshine recognized as friends.
　　Slow time in the high wall stay
　　This summer, I sleep in
　　The horse gift to the sea:
　　When they hit water, I issued a call to panic
　　Or the cries of love, I have not know it.
　　Life is a flower growing teeth biting,
　　Learning breathing in danger, every step
　　In a burst of light in the skin will burst.
　　Nine
　　Steps along the early morning
　　To poplar leaves,
　　Make a star's brother or son,
　　Perhaps one day be the father of light silk,
　　I do not want to know, with her my name in water,
　　Eyes secret wedding
　　Cactus and thirsty lips,
　　I do not know
　　How to die for such hesitation,
　　To such a desire:
　　To do a flame, burning
　　Traveled dolphin stars
　　Until the ashes.
　　Ten
　　But the horses, only children
　　The wild eyes, endless silk
　　Let me be missing.
　　I miss, not
　　The dark sound of the river, which, I heard too much,
　　Not my first touch
　　Let me taste the love
　　Fresh waist;
　　Is that the eyes
　　Over the one night
　　Came from a distance along a path
　　Steal my sleep
　　And squander my heart
　　My heart, laden with dew in the Alentejo.
　　Eleven
　　When I woke up, a group of swallows have been there,
　　Drag the early jump on the roof;
　　They may take in March
　　Naked sun:
　　Who woke up, will put his own voice
　　And the separation of such small things:
　　New leaves are changing color,
　　Has receded is
　　Taste of rain, the pride of thistle
　　Youth is not safe nudity,
　　There in the morning, animals never enough
　　Strong pain.
　　Swallow does not always come this way.
　　In this way they come.
　　So come.
　　Twelve
　　Soon, the sun in March
　　Is coming to an end.
　　It was there to walk every stone
　　Each cat's best friend, on the grass
　　It's the children who light Ding
　　With the roll.
　　No one can catch hold Mouguang
　　Sun rose behind closed doors,
　　Faced with this silence, and no one will
　　Continue a long song.
　　If you come to the window, may see
　　Finally, the sun is dying.
　　Crazy, crazy March sun.
　　Thirteen
　　Have not see wheat, and
　　Slowly on the waves rolled mountains.
　　Can not say that they have gone with you
　　You take away
　　Childhood position just jump off the wall,
　　Will be a flush of the cherry
　　His mouth, or
　　Put a smile hidden in the pocket,
　　You take away the
　　Sounded the whistle to the doves
　　Or to a glass of water,
　　Like a ball of yarn as he bowed to sleep,
　　Only the cat was so sleep.
　　This is what you all are mulberry disseminated.
　　Fourteen
　　Friendship day has just begun
　　Always toward the bright summer madness;
　　I know the happiest time
　　Than
　　Evening walk on the dunes,
　　Spent some time in September;
　　But the death crawl along the rocks,
　　Heart
　　Anxious to fall into the water
　　When a person tear up the skin
　　Like a child exposed in the sun
　　He can expect?
　　Fifteen
　　Now I want to tell you, September
　　How to come to an end.
　　How come the fog mouth.
　　September is always on the hill
　　A group of innocent sun,
　　Starlings on a branch,
　　Heard in the distance
　　Challenge the wind whistle.
　　Residual light
　　Still singing in the grass, and perhaps
　　This is my love song, a juvenile
　　Stroll along.
　　There are shepherds.
　　Sixteen
　　Ah tree, tree. With one day I want to
　　Summer maternal heart and become a tree.
　　Flower neck pigeons
　　I will proclaim the new life.
　　One day I want your hands
　　Throw quiet but still warm soil,
　　I climb down the sky
　　Trees are allowed to do such a thing.
　　Until then, I will live in the naked eyes,
　　I'm tired of my body, which
　　Stretches of desert in the water,
　　At the same time, the fog to wet hands
　　On the leaves.
　　There is fire.
　　Seventeen
　　I do not know what the flower of the water,
　　But I know it's fragrance:
　　After the first rain
　　It climbed onto the roof of the platform,
　　Bare over the balcony, into the house,
　　It is still wet body
　　Find our bodies, and began trembling:
　　Mouth as if it should
　　The remaining immortal
　　Let us drink,
　　Let the earth all the music,
　　All the music of heaven belongs to us
　　Until the end of the world,
　　Until the East Fangyu Xiao.
　　Eighth
　　The reason the world
　　Not exactly your reason.
　　Life is not any easy burning hands,
　　Live is a light polish
　　According to the body through the thick,
　　Blind walls.
　　If the spring of surviving,
　　Spring will bring the taste of blood,
　　But not to the crown of flame.
　　Water black scarf,
　　And seabirds in the stool
　　Are an integral part of your pain.
　　Ebb
　　Always blowing an semen taste.
　　Nineteenth
　　Before the arrival in the summer
　　Hopefully, restless body and the body
　　End to decorate the house, put the bread
　　On the table, will flower in the roof height.
　　My face close to the ground,
　　Eyes do not hurt returns,
　　Not a friend,
　　No sound hot to stand.
　　I accept to stay here - only
　　Lawn audible,
　　It was the rain, walked the cold feet,
　　Rain is my companion.
　　Twenty
　　No, this is not the March
　　Disturbed sun
　　Bloom in a smiling bow,
　　Wheat seedling growth is not robust,
　　Expand the wings of a swallow of silk,
　　Grazed bare shoulders
　　A lonely river, in the throat
　　Sleep;
　　No, this is not even after having sex
　　Body fermentation, exuded a pleasant smell,
　　Floated down the street,
　　Nor that the small square
　　Came a sudden silence
　　Like a ship, the bow in a smile;
　　No, just a glance Mouguang.
　　The twenty-first
　　My eyes gaze
　　The most vulnerable areas of your body: death,
　　Died in August
　　With the birds died of loneliness.
　　At this time, I was immortal:
　　Around in my whole body
　　I have your arm:
　　Noon hot sand.
　　From your chest, overlooking the sea
　　Vertical splash:
　　In August, died in your mouth,
　　And the birds together.
　　Twenty-two
　　Summer leftovers, only
　　Hairs, skin luster, some of
　　Notice the sea swallow
　　Migration of the cry, the rest of the stuff
　　Do not look in my mouth;
　　Never desert my lips out in flowers,
　　Silence, a rare flower in the flower
　　Never dawn in the crystal;
　　Another thing the rest of the summer sky light,
　　Forward, forward
　　In the purest water in front of the line,
　　It will not be back soon, will not return
　　The bed, these words.
　　Twenty-three
　　They have land and clouds touch the sky,
　　Stay in the branches,
　　They are open to the desert themselves,
　　Sometimes become stars.
　　They arrived tired at night,
　　Sleepless nights, the death of the water
　　Insecure, hot morning
　　Make them clear and transparent.
　　Their work is light touch,
　　Collected from the air
　　A fruit or a stone in the shape of
　　And quietly took them home.
　　Hands like this, but their own
　　Knew nothing about.
　　Round
　　Sea. I again went in front of the sea.
　　I first saw the sea, is the mother
　　Eyes, wave wave attached
　　Perfectly quiet, and then
　　Toward the cliff, no fetters.
　　I put the sea in his arms, numerous,
　　Many nights, I
　　Asleep or awake, listening to
　　It is the glass in the dark beating heart,
　　Stars until the shepherd
　　In my chest, on tiptoe
　　Through the night full of notches.
　　The sea, so far away from me call
　　Its waves, in addition to my boat, had also taken away what?
　　Twenty-five
　　Anger, their anger toward the
　　Where the shadow cast by acacia,
　　Body, pain due to excessive desires.
　　They looked around, no one saw them,
　　The land is sand, hard shadows,
　　Body has hardened,
　　To make dry lips, eyes only
　　Also contains a cool water.
　　First, the fingers of the blind
　　Tear, injury, and then the teeth
　　Biting, not even
　　To sex into the body of the time.
　　They are very young; land are not,
　　It is exhausted,
　　Wasp stings the heart is
　　Just want to die.
　　Twenty-six
　　Table, fruit in the combustion: pears,
　　Oranges, apples had a premonition
　　Close to the white teeth,
　　The aspirations of the oppressed,
　　It is the old voice lead the strong drink;
　　Sad burning, to create a
　　Another city, another country
　　Other sky, the release of
　　Eyes and laughter: Please join me to lie down,
　　I bring you from the sea
　　Light waves curl
　　And captured in the waist support this hot.
　　Twenty-seven
　　Back to the body, rushed to go,
　　Do not fear physical violence.
　　No one mouth is cold,
　　Even across
　　Winter. A mouth, close to the mouth of another
　　Be immortal: hot stones, the stars open the door,
　　Light flash out, take
　　Shoulders, chest, thighs, buttocks and penis.
　　These limbs and organs of your waking up in the heart,
　　Become pure,
　　They are very solid, shiny.
　　Twenty-eight
　　I have not approached the other way
　　Your mouth: how many rounds the sun, how many times the tide
　　Burning, into the snow just for you:
　　Body
　　Throwing anchor in the summer: Seabirds
　　Circled to wear the crown of your head:
　　The music does not end
　　Liberation from the fingers:
　　Around the backbone of the sun, came to his waist,
　　Falls on the sweetest part of the hip:
　　In order to send you lips, burning
　　How many times the tide, the number of boats.
　　Twenty-nine
　　I did not say that and summer,
　　At the time the sun
　　Hiding in children naked
　　Between the river and cheerful.
　　Pain is no longer the image -
　　Smile, running, teeth white,
　　Or sun
　　Burning in the center of our body -
　　They came to bring here
　　The snow is so rare,
　　They like the falling of the dust
　　Slowly around the fire to sit down.
　　They sat there, listening to the wind
　　To bring things. Until the night comes.
　　Thirty
　　Before talking to the memory of that night
　　Burn you, kiss you before
　　That first bite of your mouth
　　Salt burn you.
　　In the morning, you do not have dead space
　　You have only a cave
　　To bury the tears,
　　Only one litter to drive flies.
　　Responsibilities of the soul is free.
　　Animals is a miracle,
　　Does the sun have done their brothers
　　No memory.
　　May already be out, might have become ruins.
　　Thirty-one
　　I can not remember, in the eyes of the deep
　　Are there cats and sun_set_s,
　　Dusk is approaching,
　　Bright saffron become withered.
　　What was so take my hand?
　　What woods are still waiting for me?
　　What is the shadow of a sudden burning my soul,
　　This hidden river?
　　That atmosphere, that glorious, in a
　　What a unique way through the window.
　　How dark, how harsh,
　　It's sad blue thrush.
　　This song, does not it?
　　Thirty-
　　In the shadows, I give the name of the fire
　　Also to the shadows.
　　Place in my memories,
　　Curly illusory sun
　　Is land, sea dyed orange.
　　No air is full of sound:
　　Conversation is no different from
　　Saliva splash, the joy of the saddest most lonely.
　　In animals and humans, the children
　　Tau is a physical monster.
　　Body betrayed not come back,
　　No longer is the original shape.
　　Xxxiii
　　The color of those days - you help me please
　　To find, tis the flower of the water,
　　Sinking, the stars as close as brothers,
　　Among the things still in the small
　　Drift, these things
　　All belong to the body, belongs to the Earth,
　　Rosy transparent,
　　Dew encrusted carmine,
　　Childish laughter filled the morning gallop of hooves,
　　First wipe the green
　　Approximate ashes of the blue,
　　Into the white light on the ashes of Yang Shuguan.
　　Thirty
　　No, I'm not looking portraits.
　　Then you sideways, light gray
　　Were drawn from your arm,
　　Emitting smoke around the house
　　Curl up the fall
　　The final step, a dog
　　Jump in the yard, night
　　Will soon come.
　　You sideways, hands on his chest
　　Accompanied me to give you the roses.
　　Your hands stay here, forever,
　　Hand also rose.
　　Thirty-five
　　Sometimes a man walked into the house
　　Led by the Department with a fall of gossamer,
　　He slept soundly
　　Even silence is attributed to silence.
　　Perhaps the night I heard the cock crow,
　　Perhaps a boy climbed up the stairs
　　Bring a bouquet of carnations
　　And my mother's message.
　　I have never been so painful, I say to you,
　　In my shadow, the sun
　　Never to die
　　So young, so hazy.
　　Seemed to snow.
　　Thirty-six
　　Back in March, the birds
　　The sour madness
　　Again at our door,
　　Glass
　　Air, straight into the heart vessel.
　　Hill, those mountains are singing:
　　But we do not have one
　　Listen, we
　　Absence in the wind or other travelers
　　Monotonous syllables.
　　You already know how we
　　Retain the remaining enthusiasm,
　　How in the world
　　Shown great indifference.
　　Thirty-seven
　　Not just the house. These same words
　　Is now riddled with gaping wounds in the skin.
　　Sun does not say,
　　Just put a smile to the wind,
　　This is the kind of light? If the text is singing,
　　Where you sing? In the heart of a friend
　　Fire residues preserved material.
　　How can we expect it
　　Continue to exist? Most people grow wings
　　Speak. He sweetly
　　Open the night. At this point the snow,
　　Oh, the snow, still waiting.
　　Thirty-eight
　　Of white birds, the too late
　　Side of the wall of death will not only die
　　Only death
　　Will not put a fire on his ship.
　　Beam of light across the sky opacity gap
　　Escape with wounds,
　　It can not illuminate a delay hand,
　　It is the honey dumped on the ground.
　　It is in the edge of night
　　Path knot untied,
　　The voice of a child
　　Pray with a rope tied silence.
　　Or words - full of forgotten places.
　　Thirty-nine
　　They came back with the noise of the rain
　　Warm hands.
　　Smile abducted
　　Back to their young lips.
　　In fact, I never knew
　　The name of this flower, morning
　　It is rapidly opening up some eyes.
　　Now, that was too late.
　　I know that even in my sleep
　　There is also a voice did not go to sleep,
　　This is a way to inhabit the sun,
　　The tears burning footprints.
　　Rain, beating my body.
　　Forty
　　Death has always been my sister
　　It shook the broken light
　　It did not harvest hay (not always mature)
　　This is a happy task
　　To others, then flew to a height lark
　　Singing loudly or burning, and to win
　　Heritage day
　　- The voice of salt, lemon
　　The taste of the South, perhaps the flute sounded
　　Long and beautiful vibrato - the sun's death
　　Nostalgia, is it a holiday?
　　Forty-one
　　I left the eyes and words.
　　I have only a piece of paper
　　Cleared above
　　Mole cricket unbearable noisy.
　　Wet foliage in the evening between
　　I do not know forgot to put my hand in where.
　　And rain with perhaps
　　Flowing between the stone,
　　Trekking in the mud, in the mist
　　Fall.
　　The hand of the blind
　　Lose yourself.
　　Forty
　　Come here, your ear in my mouth,
　　I want to tell you a secret,
　　Arm around a man the night
　　Lying on the sand, I heard him cry
　　Separately with another person, no one heard the cry,
　　Sun has been rotting for a long time.
　　I do not know whether he is waiting for the morning
　　To leave, or thorns, and sand dunes along
　　Stay, his eyes
　　Full of ignorance and kindness,
　　Thus he
　　The face of slander, to face the wind.
　　He was like a dog, even less.
　　Forty-three
　　We do not know bad habits in vain
　　Art of the game to our hands
　　To lead: In the sleep
　　Bottom,
　　South window open.
　　No one knows how to use
　　This knowledge, more often, it seems more love
　　The opposite of life: a body
　　The end of the summer has just began to die,
　　Until the snow comes.
　　In the wilderness, another voice calling
　　Another love:
　　Between sleep and fever.
　　Forty-four
　　Could hear, behind the sea wall.
　　In November, November, can be clearly seen
　　Each syllable had left traces of the sea.
　　A man and a dog on the horizon.
　　They were walking in the evening,
　　Toward the sea.
　　Behind the wall.
　　The pain from afar, and the sea is always
　　Followed.
　　Written in the fog in November.
　　That and the dog into the night,
　　Shadows, black shadows of the night.
　　Forty-five
　　November's entrance, no one.
　　November came, as if nothing.
　　The door has been opened,
　　It came in, feet barely touched the ground.
　　Did not look at the bread, no taste wine.
　　Untie the knot without the cold.
　　Only in the violet light, the stop
　　The children toward the house smiling.
　　That mouth, then eyes. The hands
　　Does not belong to anyone. It is to leave
　　It has its own music, their own laws, their own secrets.
　　But before it touched the earth.
　　As if the earth is its mother.
　　Forty-six
　　In winter, difficult to cope with both hands
　　Fingers,
　　Sent me the name of the wind -
　　The four syllables of snow.
　　In the bleak walls, the vertical
　　White on the desolate,
　　Residual traces of a tear
　　So vague or so small
　　Anything.
　　Hand writing on the earth:
　　No other burial,
　　Flower light
　　Is a one Pippi.
　　Forty-seven
　　Now that hand; it can not fly;
　　Not even the stone
　　Into the sun; hand Jinzuan is
　　Nothing.
　　Hand loss, turbulence, not safety;
　　Only know the desert, bare
　　Desert;
　　Only know that no walls and no roof home.
　　It does not dream; not dream of
　　Moist, like brothers, text,
　　Even the feet do not know the text;
　　Just text.
　　It does not know anything.
　　Forty-eight
　　Tonight I work crazy
　　Is to give Eagle a special status;
　　I'm going to die; the height of the lips,
　　The sea can be my home.
　　Morning expelled from the sun in my eyes;
　　I look snow climb,
　　Collected in air
　　Transparent and green fragrance.
　　No one can open eyes
　　Endure the world's weight;
　　The horses ran away with the night together;
　　They run, do not want to die.
　　Forty-nine
　　House into the water,
　　Courtyard open to the sun
　　Thorns
　　In the flowering
　　Window, only the old sea
　　Flashing glow of youth,
　　It is seen moving around the ship,
　　Many of the sailors
　　Watching
　　Morningstar flashed,
　　Lost direction and reason:
　　Only in death we are not strangers.
　　Fifty-
　　I am satisfied, on the life without debts,
　　Only owes me a living
　　Several text a little money.
　　We owe the two incompatible, so
　　The body has to rest: it had previously
　　Day work, planting,
　　Also harvested, until
　　Something lost, poor,
　　Extremely poor beast,
　　Now it has retired the testicles.
　　One day I will stretch out their legs
　　Fig tree lying under the tree, many years ago
　　I saw it growing up alone:
　　We belong to the species.
　　(End)
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Green God
　　As night falls,
　　You will be exposed springs charming.
　　Your body is like a stream,
　　Slow down,
　　Calmly hitting both sides of the embankment.
　　You hurry,
　　Not a minute stopped.
　　As you chase the pace,
　　Grass ground-breaking initiation,
　　Trees where they stand.
　　You smile like dancing
　　You are using familiar melodies gods,
　　Shake with the rhythm of the same body,
　　Moving at the same time,
　　Leaves the body after another landing.
　　Thoroughfare has been advancing along its own,
　　Because you are a crossing of the gods.
　　Inadvertently cents on everything around.
　　Indulge in a piccolo
　　Playing out of the music.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Serenade
　　Frogs
　　Music late at night all night
　　- Poetry reservoir
　　Song of the ship rot
　　There are occasional flashes sparkling moonlight.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Elegy for September
　　I do not know how you come
　　However, there must be a way
　　So you die and reincarnation.
　　You sit in the garden,
　　Hands on their chests full of tenderness,
　　Gazed long and quiet day in September
　　The last few of them will bloom the roses red.
　　What music makes you so fascinated
　　I have not found even approached?
　　Forests, rivers, and oceans?
　　Or in your heart
　　Everything is still singing?
　　I want the front to talk to you
　　I only say to you on your side,
　　But I am afraid,
　　All the music so afraid of the suspension,
　　You can no longer afraid of roses gaze,
　　Flanagan fear of tearing thin,
　　You are using it to compile without the memory of the time weaving.
　　What kind of discourse
　　Or kiss, or tears
　　Can make the dead wake up from harm,
　　It does not take them to
　　Shadow, all duplicate
　　Black world come from?
　　You just sit still,
　　Full of tenderness
　　Staring Rose
　　Ren fascinated
　　I have not seen your side.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Parting words
　　In sorrow
　　Head on the top
　　The gold of the day all
　　Removal.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Sea, and sea
　　You ask me, but I do not know
　　I also do not know what is the sea.
　　Late at night I was reading a letter from the repeated
　　That is probably tear welling in the sea.
　　Your teeth, your teeth may be
　　All of the little white teeth is the sea,
　　A small piece of the sea,
　　Affectionate,
　　Like the distant music.
　　When the waves one after another
　　Crashed on me
　　It is clearly the mother calling me.
　　Is caressed by the sea at this time,
　　In the humid light among
　　My children wake up young at heart.
　　Sometimes the sea is a white image,
　　Sparkling among the rocks.
　　I do not know the sea is around,
　　Or in the transparent shells,
　　Seeking to find some kind of kiss.
　　No, the sea is not a tuberose, not a lily.
　　It is a dead boys
　　Opened his lips to kiss and waves.
　　It is the blood,
　　During the beam of light to hide
　　In order to separate a beam of light and fell in love on the beach.
　　Curved crescent do not want to submergence
　　Rising to the night dragged on.
　　Mother's hair loosened,
　　Placed in the water floating,
　　It is the breeze from my heart
　　It heal.
　　Smaller sea again, and mine,
　　Anemone blooming in my fingers.
　　I also do not know what is the sea,
　　Standing barefoot on the beach,
　　Anxiously await the dawn.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Perfectly
　　Mouth
　　There are a mass of
　　Very old
　　Summer Flame
　　Flash
　　The mouth in anticipation
　　(A mouth
　　In addition to the other mouth
　　Can expect? )
　　Looking forward to the wind's
　　Hot,
　　Well into birds
　　Singing.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Couples money
　　They faced in the past pedestrians,
　　Hearts with legend and myth,
　　Also equipped with ice cold.
　　In their garden,
　　Moonlight walk holding the hand of the water,
　　Stone angel like brothers.
　　Like all people,
　　Their daily miracle
　　Sliding along the roof,
　　Golden eyes,
　　Burning in hot
　　Most blurred dream.
　　They endure hunger like animals by thirst,
　　Passing by the Department,
　　Was quiet.
　　With their every expression,
　　A bird in the fingers will be born
　　Dazzling to fly into the vast sky.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　September Sea
　　Everything is bright and Cham:
　　Lips, sky, beach.
　　The sea in close proximity,
　　Raging waves splash.
　　Body or Haitao
　　Come from,
　　Sweet, gentle - only
　　Soul and white.
　　Happy when singing,
　　When quiet sleep,
　　Wake up love,
　　Like the quiet chant.
　　Everything is bright and Cham,
　　In my youth, dashing,
　　The sea in close proximity,
　　Extremely pure, glittering.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Writing for the death of the young seaman's epitaph
　　Someone asked you, I heard
　　The mysterious sound of the sea.
　　Someone asked you, I see
　　Sea blue silhouette.
　　Someone asked you, I replied:
　　He woke up, dressed in white.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Urgent need
　　Urgent need for love.
　　Urgent need to have a boat at sea.
　　Urgent need to eliminate some of the words:
　　Hatred, loneliness, cruelty,
　　A little lament
　　Such as Lin's sword.
　　Urgent need to create joy,
　　Multiply kiss and harvest.
　　Urgent need to rose, the river looking for,
　　Then there is the bright morning.
　　Silence and the dark
　　Pressure sore shoulders.
　　Urgent need to survive,
　　Urgent need for love.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Write a poem on the beach in LAC
　　I am on your shoulders, breathe.
　　Tall and narrow vessel
　　Extraordinarily beautiful.
　　Well, ah, your face close to my face,
　　How brilliant your chest that brilliant!
　　I am on your shoulders, breathe.
　　Summer-like golden beach
　　Extraordinarily beautiful.
　　Well, ah, my face close to your face,
　　How deep blue sea in your hands!
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Singing
　　You are the snow.
　　Caress off by snow.
　　Tears and Jasminum
　　Beginning at dawn.
　　You are water.
　　Kiss you, you are water.
　　Tower, soul, ship,
　　Gave no beginning or end of the farewell.
　　You are the fruit
　　In my trembling fingers.
　　We can sing
　　Or fly, we can die.
　　However, May
　　Keep in mind Yoshina,
　　Never left me
　　Color and taste.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Wait
　　Time, endless time
　　Heavy, deep,
　　I will wait for you,
　　Until the silence.
　　Until a stone fragmentation,
　　Open into flowers.
　　A bird flew up out of my throat,
　　Disappeared in the boundless.
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Calm nature, laden with fruit
　　A
　　Raspberry morning blood
　　_Select_ white as the linen love.
　　II
　　Filled with morning glory and sweet
　　The pure face overlooking the apple.
　　C
　　Orange in the sun and the moon
　　Sleeping together.
　　IV
　　Can recite every grape
　　Summertime name.
　　V
　　I love the pomegranate tree
　　Open flame heart.
　　"In Portugal, poets" (Yao Jingming Sun Cheng Ao _Select_ed Translations)
　　February 1993 the first edition (China Translation and Publishing Corporation)