I was silent, born in Qianjiang, Hubei in the 1980s. He began to study poetry in 2012. His works have been published in major publications such as "People's Literature" and "Poetry". He has been awarded the "Top Ten Poets of the Year in Chinese Poetry" in 2014, and the third Yangzijiang Young Poet of the Year Award. first name
I used to be in the morning wind
Wrote your name
With mud, with water, with dead branches, with fallen leaves
Use snow and flowers.
I also used tears
Used in the sky
After seeing you
Your name becomes mud, water, dead branches, fallen leaves,
It turned into snow, flowers, tears and clouds.
When we are together
There is no longer anything there.
There is only one heart-shaped, complete
Leaky house, casually
Take the wooden door,
Refugees take mother away and take newborn baby
Next to me.
The wind took away the leaves of the old poplar, the wind was outside the window
It was the summer of 1986. Barren land and sweaty
Adults often work at night, struggling or running.
I see the children of me, eyes that open desperately
For the first time, the darkness of the vast sky was reflected.
The baby was asleep beside him.
I didn't know loneliness and fear at that time
I did n’t know it at the time,
With such power to resist everything.
She is determined to go alone
Walk into the twilight alone
Into the grass in the twilight
Tiny on the grass in the twilight
But still, slightly fluttering flowers
She sits beside them
Some kind of fanatical loneliness and tranquility
A kind of comfort
When night comes
Deeper and darker
Gradually fill them
She saw a little white flower
In all different colors
The darkness around is like a cliff
Became the cliff itself
-after many years
You finally came to see me
Put snow, sunset, bells and books
All left behind
We had a short surprise
Seems like two trees that have been together for years
Hibiscus tree in front of the breeze
Still try to keep
Relatively parallel torso
We stop writing poetry and drinking
No longer embrace love and stones
When we talk about the past, we are a bit vague.
When we talk about the highest piece
The bluest sky. White ashes
Covered like snowflakes
Your habitual smile
I also started, with a calm face
I was walking on the snow with a person,
Did not speak.
The vast snow covered our heads, our shoulders,
Then we covered the footprints behind us.
We keep going.
Because it's snowing, it's snowing all the time.
This situation seems to be,
many years ago. As if
after a long time. Hong Deng's Poetics has launched poet works that are active in contemporary poetry, and welcomes guidance and criticism.
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