Nostalgia
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
When I was a child, nostalgia was like a small stamp. I was on this side, and my mother was on the other side. . When I grow up, nostalgia is like a narrow boat ticket, with me on this end and the bride on the other end. Later, homesickness was like a short grave. I was outside and my mother was inside. But now, homesickness is like a shallow strait, with me on this side and the mainland on the other side. gt; gt;
When I die
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
When I die, bury me, between the Yangtze River and the Yellow River My head was pillowed, and the white hair in China was covered with black soil. I fell asleep peacefully in the most beautiful and maternal country. I listened to the whole continent sleeping on both sides, the requiem from the Yangtze River, the eternal music of the two tubes of the Yellow River, surging, toward the This is the most pampering and spacious bed in the East, allowing a heart to sleep contentedly, thinking contentedly that once upon a time, a Chinese young man once looked westward in the frozen Michigan, wanting to see through the dark night to see the dawn of China, with seventeen years of unsatisfied China. The gluttonous map of the eyes, from West Lake to Taihu Lake to Chongqing where there are many partridges, instead of returning home gt;gt;
Waiting for you in the rain
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
Waiting for you in the rain. In the rainbow-making rain, the sound of cicadas falls and the sound of frogs rises. A pool of red lotuses is like red flames. In the rain, it doesn’t matter whether you come or not. It feels like every lotus looks like you, especially across the distance. At dusk, across this drizzle, eternity, moment, moment, eternity, waiting for you outside of time, within time, waiting for you, moment, in eternity, if your hand is in my hand at this moment, if your fragrance is in my nostrils, I will say little lover No. This hand should be picking lotuses in the Wu Palace. This hand should be shaking a cinnamon pulp in a magnolia boat. A star is hanging on the cornice of the science museum like an earring. A Swiss watch said it was already seven o'clock. Suddenly you came forward. The red lotus after the rain is graceful. You come like a little order. From an allusion to love, you come. From Jiang Baishi's words, you come with rhyme. gt;gt;
Forever, I'll wait
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
If I hear you pouring out the most beautiful verb in the morning, why should I be afraid if I die that night? When I love, I must love miserably. If I cannot love beautifully, your beauty will hurt me for no reason. This summer, as long as I stretch my arms, a miracle will land on my open palm, and yours will land on my palm, Lotus. For example, at dusk in late summer, facing a pond full of clear fragrance and facing a soul that is quietly and spontaneously burning, which one, which one will agree to if I call you by your nickname? As long as there is still a flower in the pool, as long as there is still a red petal in summer, why should I meet you? Lotus is Zhen Zhen’s nickname, and Lotus means Zhen Zhen. When you think of Zhen Zhen, you will see people when you see lotus. As long as there is still a sweet petal in your heart, as long as there is still a sweet petal in your dream, it will be the end of summer, the ground will be full of stalks, and the sky will be full of stars. , the immortal soul is still Lotus forever, I wait for you to part your lips, open your mouth, and spit out the verbs. Those who have loved will never be forgotten. Those who have been wounded will always be wounded.
My scars are shockingly red and look like lotus flowers;
In spring, I think of you
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
In spring, Then I thought of Jiangnan, the Jiangnan in Tang poems. When I was nine years old, I picked mulberry leaves and caught dragonflies in it (you can go back from Keelung Port). Jiangnan Xiao Du’s Jiangnan Su Xiaoxiao Jiangnan then thought of the lake with many lotus and many lings. The lake with many crabs, the small battlefield between King Wu and King of Yue in the south of the Yangtze River (that war was beautiful enough) Xi Shi escaped and Fan Li disappeared in the wine flag fluttering (it took three hours to fly from Songshan) Qianlong The emperor's spring in the south of the Yangtze River reminds me of the weeping willows everywhere in the south of the Yangtze River, the fishing port on the shore of Taihu Lake, and the many cousins ??walking on the willow embankment (I can only marry one of them!). Ren Yi is old, Ren Yi is old, in Jiangnan (Jiangnan in three hours of jet cloud) Even if we meet, they will not accompany me to pick lotus, accompany me to pick water chestnut. Even if we meet, we will meet in Jiangnan, in the spring rain of apricot blossoms. Jiangnan is in Xinghua Village in Jiangnan (please ask where the restaurant is). Where is my mother? On Easter, it is my mother who is not resurrected. A little girl from Jiangnan became my mother. On Qingming Festival, my mother is calling me, calling me at Yuantong Temple. Call me on this side of the strait, shout on the other side of the strait, in Jiangnan, in Jiangnan, Jiangnan with many temples, Jiangnan with many pavilions, Jiangnan with many kites, Jiangnan with bells (standing in Keelung Port, thinking - think about it You can't go back) Jiangnan with Many Swallows gt;gt;
Zhongyuan Night
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
The moon is a lover And the souls of ghosts, the icy moonlight lights up a long-bright lamp with green flames. In the middle of the Yuan Dynasty, ghosts are awake, and people are also awake. People are dazed on the bridge, stretching their cold white arms. The bridge railings stop me, stop me from fishing for Li Bai. The moon is an illusion, the moon in the water is an illusion within an illusion, not to mention that this eve is the Zhongyuan, people are as pitiful and pitiful as ghosts, and the pitiful Chinese Valentine's Day is the myth of Biluo falling on the earth. Mid-Autumn Festival is the hope of the world placed in the blue sky.
And Zhongyuan Zhongyuan belongs to Huangquan, another dimension. If you come up to the bridge with fluttering black clothes, if you cry, you cry on Naihe Bridge. If you laugh, you laugh on Magpie Bridge. Are we the protagonists of ghost stories or myths? Finally, the sun penetrates, and the soft light floats over the clouds. The clouds drift past like green smoke, lingering under the Buddhist lantern. The lights are shining under the bridge, and the lights are shining on the bridge. My eyes also think that the moon is a strange spirit that steals dreams. , Tonight, can you go back? The souls on the other shore are crowded, and the souls on this shore are crowded on the way back. The souls are marching on the road, and the water is flowing under the bridge. Tears are flowing on the bridge. Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
The river goes east, the waves leap into the ages, the sun raises fire, the moon sinks pearls. Which wave is the moon catcher? Which wave is the drowning doctor? Under the Red Cliff, people are hanging their beards as if they were listening to ancient music. Fish and dragons are going east, disturbing many aquatic people. When I grow old, my thousands of feet of white hair should be dragged back to Miluo by my curling Lisao. Let me swim among the rocks and let the immortal river wash away my sins. The water of the ice-cold river wishes me eternal life, just like my mother's fingers, which tickled me gently when I was a child. That kind of touch is spread across the river eastward. Thousand lips and thousands dimples are licked by my mother. I gently kiss, I kiss gently, every drop of this breast, my naked body's backstroke posture, is the source of sucking, the holy liquid that has been irrigated for five thousand years and will never be weaned. Every drop is sweet and sad. Every drop comes from the wind, frost and mist on the top of the Kunlun Mountains. From the myth of Kuangkuang, the east and west of the great river, the dragon's tail points towards the sun at dusk, the dragon's head penetrates into the morning light. The dragon's scales turn the pages of history, one scale at a time, rolling the pages. The endless sound of the water, the victor, the loser, the high and the low, is the same wave that floats and sinks forever. It is eternal, it is eternal, it is reverse, it is eternal. It swims backwards and swims back. All must follow the great river to the east. Under my pillow all night long, the sound of the river is on the left, surging on the left. The ear is turned to the right, and the eloquent words are turning sideways on the right cheek and wielding the knife. The person who is constantly insomnia rests his head on the Three Gorges gt;gt;
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Looking for Li Bai
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
The pair of arrogant boots are still in the shameful and angry hands of Gao Lishi, but they have disappeared, leaving refugees and wounded soldiers all over the ground. The rhythm of the Huma and the Qiang flute was left to Du Er to chant in detail. Ever since He Zhizhang was dazzled and recognized you as an immortal, he became more and more crazy and hid himself with a small enchanted wine bottle. Even Mrs. I can’t find you complaining that the city of Chang’an is small but the sky is long in the pot. In all your poems, you predict that the water will suddenly escape. Maybe tomorrow, only a small boat will break through the waves, your hair will be wild in the wind, and the enemies will be like a forest. Everyone in the world wants to kill you. How to kill cirrhosis of the liver? Do you have to die? The wine went into my heart, and seven points turned into moonlight. The remaining three points roared into sword energy and vomited out half of the prosperous Tang Dynasty. From Kaiyuan to Tianbao, from Luoyang to Xianyang, the hustle and bustle of riding on the road is not as good as yours a thousand years later. A crystal quatrain lightly tapped my forehead and a local flick stirred up an echo. The world is already down and out. It’s too embarrassing for my mother. It’s still a mystery. Is your place of origin Longxi or Shandong, Qinglian Township or Suiye City? It’s better to go back. Which hometown do you want to return to? Wherever you get drunk, you said, it is not a foreign land. Disappearance is the only fate of a genius. What happened after your death, where did you escape to? The ape can't stop crying, and Du Er can't stop trying to persuade you. When you turn around, the Seven Immortals and Five Friends are already white-headed under the prison window. They can't save you. Kuangshan has been locked up by the fog. There is no way to enter, but the fire still shows the purity of life. How can half a grain of cinnabar catch up with the flowing clouds in Ge Hong's sleeves? The shadow of the moon in the bottle, maybe that is your hometown and you have often looked up at it yearningly throughout your life? And no matter whether I go out to cry to the west or cry to the east, Chang'an has already fallen 240,000 miles away. There is no need to disturb the roc, and there is no need to recruit a crane. I just throw the wine glass into the air and it spins into a flying saucer with a strange green flash. It's getting faster and faster and I'll take you back to the legend gt; The frozen arsenic and the moon are like arsenic. Whose wound is the moon like frost falling on? The season when lunatophobia and lunatophobia break out, the moonlight lights up the phantom sun, the ghost of the sun is reflected in the face of the dead star. lunatophobia and lunatophobia haunt the cat, and the sea haunts the pale beauty of the moon. Next, the night is a border smuggling dream of death
, smuggling through the clouds in modern times and ancient times, the imitation coins of the sun are made with two sides like the sea. Pregnant in the distance, black cats are chanting on the tiles tonight. A beautiful pale woman with big eyes I have been busy all night, pressing my face against the window, holding the moonlight in my palm, pouring it into a bottle, analyzing chemical components, analyzing memories, analyzing sadness, lunar phobia and moon love, moonlight gt;gt;
Sunflower
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
The gavel was going going going gone in Christy’s hall. With a bang, it knocked down three thousand The high price of 9 million yuan was bought out, and the nervous breathing of the whole audience was bought out. The eyes that were envied by the whole world could not be bought back. It was broken, and one ear could not be bought back. It was burnt, and the red hair could not be bought back. It was loose. Now, a mouth of bad teeth cannot buy back the haste. The thirty-seven-year-old raised his gavel, raised his pistol to the lively venue, and cut his ears to his lonely heart, going, broken ears, going, red hair, going, bad teeth, going Nightmare, going Epilepsy, going Diary and letter, going Doctor and hospital bed, going Dear brother, going Bang, gone A generous heart becomes the ground full of sunflowers and the sky full of sun Postscript: 19 On March 30, 1968, the ninety-seventh anniversary of Van Gogh's birth, one of his Sunflowers was sold at Christie's Auction Company in London for a record-breaking price of US$39.85 million. Going, going, Gone is the cry when the auction is completed, and the gavel hits the end of the words gt;gt;
The next date
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
When I die, your name will be like the last petal of a flower falling from my lips. Your fingers are like a bunch of keys. Hold them in my hand and let me open them. Which door? I am lucky to die holding your hand. Listen to you, you still love me. Listen to you, there is a phoenix after death. There is spring after death. But at least one May was ours. Every gray hair is still for us. You tremble, remembering the old days with every trace of your hair, remembering that a few red lotuses bloomed where you stepped on, and a narcissus sprayed on the place where you stood. You stood in the wind, your skirt was fluttering, and your hair was fluttering on your ears. My chest listens to my heart, it is tired, it is tired, it has passed its age, for Zhen Zhen, Zhen Zhen, it beats too strongly, beats too often, love has given it too heavy a load, the end of love is here , the other end is in the original. The last date was in Lantian. The last time was on the shore of Luoshui. In the wilderness, in the sea, in the nebula. Beyond memory and memory, love on the other side. Where will the next date be? Where will it be? What do you say, you say, I follow you (Do you believe in reincarnation, do you believe it?) The black sleeves of death block my view, so I can’t see clearly, but um, I heard it, and I will definitely go gt;gt;
The piccolo that summons the soul
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
The soul returns, mother, we cannot stay in the east for long, the tropical sea where typhoons are born, the north of July The pressure in the Pacific Ocean is very low. The soul is back, mother, you can't stay in the south for long, the one-way street of the sun train is the equatorial moxibustion on the soles of pedestrians' feet in July. Come back, mother, don't stay in the north for long, the white kingdom of reindeer, there is no Sabbath night in July, only daylight. The soul is back, mother, you can't stay in a foreign country for long. The small urn sleeps beside the floor-to-ceiling windows, accompanied by the small plants planted by your hands. Come back, mother, to guard your little town behind the fire. When spring comes, I will walk on the wet and cold Qingming Road and bury you in a small grave in my hometown. Bury you in Jiangnan, a small town in Jiangnan. The weeping willow hair hangs straight down to your grave. When spring comes, you will have a girl's dream, dreaming about your mother. And on the road to the Qingming Festival, mother, my footprints will be deep. Rain is dripping on the long hair of the willow trees. Mother, my memories are dripping. When the soul returns, mother, come and guard this empty city in all directions.
gt; gt;
Cuckoo
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
The flute player on a cloudy day plays and whispers in repeated phrases. The bitter cry brings the Qingming Festival and the rain and fog over the mountains and valleys. In the low and everlasting sigh, there is always the water in the rice fields in the south of the Yangtze River. When the butterfly umbrellas have not yet gone out and the frog drums have not moved, you follow the solar terms from Shennong's ancient almanac. Flying here and hiding in the most depressing corner of the wild smoke, you are urging me to go back. Why don't you go back? You mean, why don't you go back? Where are you going back, flute player, I ask you. The fields where you were a child have long since sunk deeply in the dusk. You can’t reach out from a distance to pick me up. On the way to sweep the dusk, I don’t see the shepherd boy. The little boy in Xinghua Village. The shop has been renovated to sell beer. You can’t paint the kind of nostalgia behind the drizzle even in ink painting. Putting down the nostalgic almanac, I looked at the two bull-roaring excavators on the barren hill opposite that were still plowing on Sundays.gt;gt ;
Dusk
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
If dusk were a lonely passenger rushing towards the sunset through the west gate of Guanxi, Why don't I see people coming in, but only going out? But as soon as I left the customs, I was ambushed. The sunset turned and all the flags turned black. When I turned back, the west gate was closed. I wanted to ask the guards on the butterfly several times, but I saw bats flapping up and down. It was an empty city. gt;gt ;
The so-called eternity
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
Isn’t the so-called eternity just a password used by night walkers who are afraid of ghosts to embolden themselves to blow out the fire? In the dark wind, passers-by on the front road or visitors on the back road sometimes say hello from a distance. A touching legend is passed down secretly that there is a city that never sleeps, with wild flowers blooming and thousands of lights blooming. As soon as the border is crossed, it is clearly visible and cannot be looked at. The road coming towards the central square turned out to be a ray of light gt; gt;
Setaria
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
In short, no one can argue that the grave is the only permanent address. For example, after the guests have dispersed, what if the back door of the funeral parlor faces south? Facing north, so what? The hearse always looks like it is about to travel a long way, but no one can resist this matter. As for immortality, it may be just a code word, for the night walking spirit, or it may not work, believe it or not believe it. In the end, no one is higher than the foxtail grass unless it is The name rises, and the stars go together to join Rick or Li Bai. Everything else stays under the grass. The name returns to the name, the skull returns to the skull star, returns to the star, the earthworm returns to earthworm. Under the night sky, if anyone calls above, there is a kind of light below, there is a The cricket is vaguely like to answer gt; gt;
Wuling Boy
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
The aquarium in Busxia Gorge is very crowded during typhoon season. There is a tributary of the Yellow River in my bloodline. The Yellow River is too cold and needs a lot of alcohol to leak out. What floats at the bottom of the cup is my family tree! Another cup of sorghum. There is the Suiren family in my anger. There is Dayu in my tears. The drums of Zhuolu are in my ears. It is said that my grandfather shot down nine suns. There is an uncle whose name can scare away the chanyu. Do you hear me? I got a bottle of sorghum Qianjinqiu. I was hanging in the window of the Huanghang shop to pawn the five-flowered horse. I only had arthritis. I had no more weekends to wait for me in Ximending. So I hatched a nest of martial arts novels under my pillow. I got a bottle of sorghum. Which shop’s waiter gt;gt;
White Jade Bitter Melon
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
Looking like waking up and sleeping, in the slow soft light, it seems like you are waking up from the deep sleep of the old age. A melon is maturing slowly, a bitter melon is no longer bitter. Days and months have worked hard to carve out the deep and clear crystal. Look at the stems and whiskers, and the leaves and palms are caressing the harvest of that year. I want to suck up all the ancient Chinese food. The breast milk fed by the tentacles is perfectly round and greasy, yet hearty and full, until the tip of the melon continues to expand and enrich each butter-white grape. When I was a child, I didn’t know that the vast Kyushu would only shrink into a map, still holding the freshness of that day. If you fold it up and spread it out, the endless huge memory-like mother, will you look at her breasts? Use the pedicle to use the roots to pick up her graceful liquid, painstaking compassion and painstaking efforts to feed it out, no
Fortunately or very fortunately, this baby bell, the love of the entire continent, has been stepped on by a bitter gourd leather shoe, stepped by a horse's hoof, and not a trace of scar has been left behind by the tracks of a heavy-ton chariot. Only the glass is left behind. This miracle is unbelievable and still remains with me. Tu Yiyi's blessing matures in the strange light beyond time. A self-sufficient universe is full and does not rot. A fairy fruit is not born in the fairy mountain. It is born in the world and has been rotten for a long time. Your predecessor, alas, has been reborn for you for a long time. That hand, that skillful wrist, thousands of eyes and thousands of eyes, skillfully extradite you. The smile, the soul, flows in the white jade. A song, chanting that life was once a melon and bitter, is eternally extradited, the results are sweet gt;gt;
The night is like a net
[Author] Yu Guangzhong [Dynasty] Modern
Do you know how the blurred night comes? From the sea? One fishing fire after another? From land? One streetlight after another? From the wind? One returning bird after another? The magnificent sky net is sparse and not leaking. The hand that casts the net makes something out of nothing. Do you know how to release and how to collect? Look at the sloping row of Masson pine trees at the bottom of the slope. The backlight becomes more and more ambiguous and hazy. The long window facing the sea was about to say that dusk is coming. Suddenly it changed color and said, "Night is coming." The sky net misses nothing, and the pores and holes are closing in. No matter what peninsula or building you are in at the end of the world gt;gt;
Send it to the painter
[Author] Yu Guangzhong[ Dynasty] Modern
They told me that this summer you may have plans to travel far away to see Van Gogh or Xu Beihong, with his easel, gray hair and laughing Sichuan Mandarin. Taipei will be empty as soon as you leave, my friend. I can’t see you in the long streets and alleys, and it’s impossible to look back. During the rainy season, the sky is covered with black umbrellas and the ground is filled with yellow mud. Why can’t you wait until the Mid-Autumn Festival? Only the paddy fields in the south can't be taken away by you, those earthen temples and buffaloes. But at dusk in summer, there are always one or two egrets flying up as if they remembered something from your ink drawings gt;gt;