Can't remember how many
meridians
how many stripes of waves
those winding roots
they never
make me sane
the hazy morning
petals scattered on the ground
it's a forest
where there are
my footprints
outside the closed
window
creeper extending
toward my house
those cigarette butts have
what it needs
under the golden sun
there's a hint of
the warmth of spring
lost
in the forest
full of
fallen doors.
(5.29)
Origami bird coming
leisurely
flying past the lake
of heart
meeting you for the first time
though cold and wordless
waves still ripple
for you
origami bird jumping
on my fingetips
cheerfully
joyfully
flying into
the heart
freely
flying
origami bird
where are you
in a night full of
fantasy
i know
that you will sail away
eventually
to a place you belong
i hope
the sky'll be full of
origami birds
viola tricolors
and paper pansies
when we meet
again
but when will it
be.
(5.28)
Inkwell on top of
a long screenplay
inside the bottle is
the cold temperature of
a solid locked soul
on the desk is a pen
made of bone
held by the wrist of God
the clear yellowed paperboard
the gray drama interpreting
the dark clouds and the sea
the surging turbidity of
the sky
the sea is
the cemetary of birds
the sky is
the corpse of
rainbow
interpreting
fire-breathing dragon
the vast sky
that devours the stars and moon
the shiny candelabrum
the candlelight is
the imprints of
dawn and night
the pencil on the other side of the desk
made of pine wood
held by
me.
(5.29)
The dusk
is always beautiful
with the accumulation of colors
of a lifetime
busyness
has climbed onto the second hand
i believe in the outcome
the envelope
sealed by worldliness
can only be opened
by the horizon
that extends
the beauty
of life.
(5.29)
Listening to a song
reading a good poem
the sun shining
through the window
elegantly
thoughts
near and far
floating on the frontier
full of the
autumnal colors
a path
a leaf
all are stained with
the autumnal flavor
delicately fragrant
on the frontier in
late autumn
the sky high
and clear
on the summit
of the mountain where
daisies are brilliant
a ray of autumnal breeze
finding you
in the field
on the frontier of
the late autumn
the depths of
memory.
(5.29)
Serenity
is a dim hazy lamp
in darkness
giving us light
taking us
to the other side of the
ideal land
serenity
is an elegant poem
queitly walking
into our hearts
making us feel
a touch of
beauty.
(5.29)
Dark night
sinking into
the icy lake
water
inky
green
the red hot sun
broken
fallen
into a maple tree
mountain
crimson
there's no blue here
no sea
it's autumn.
(5.29)
Day
like a legend
that'll become
another version
in the end
making it
impossible to grasp
its existence
day
like a drifting cloud
we tend not to enjoy it
when we see it
and we feel lost
when it leaves us
day
gently
unfurled
closed
this is
our
life.
(5.29)
After
the iced blue
the morning tea
and moonlight
sprinked in
your hair
the victory of the rising son
reflecting
a touch of
茶色.
(5.29)
Spring is beautiful
because of the return of
green
the bright yellow canola flowers
butterflies chasing in the thicket
summer is beautiful
charming like the louts in the pond
counting the stars beneath
the night sky
listening to the song of insects
reluctant to go to sleep
autumn is beautiful
wind blowing
leaves fluttering
golden wheatfield spread out
beneath the sun
cheers of
flocks of sparrows
piled up
winter is beautiful
snow crushed in the quiet night
icicles on the eaves
turning into water
after the warm wind
comes.
(5.29)
The sky glowing
light blue
brightness
in the early evevning
pink at the edge is
your serious
thinking face
outside the window is
the outline of youth
the track of love
rain has become
our partner
the embellishment of life
landscape in the dusk
beautiful
like poem
like fairy tale
returning the wings of fantasy
to the earth.
(5.29)
Walking
in a big city
endless buildings
shield the eyes
can't hear you
from afar
only sirens in the streets
familiar and unfamiliar
lonely breaths
night amazed
at the belated letter
of dawn.
(5.29)
You can always see
that patch of quiet
occasionally
the flying birds arouse
some sprays
on the surface
on the bank of the jadeite willow
glittering and sparkling
waves dispersed
without a trace
it breaks your heart
but not hurting it
occasionally
the fish and the boat
sketching phantoms
amongst the water lilies
when the petals fade
it pains your heart
but not hurting it
occasionally
the wind sweeps past
leaving a few bright scars
under the cast of the sun
shiny silver stings your eyes
when everything is broken
like water
it messes your heart
not hurting it
when you can no longer see
that patch of quiet
that patch of long-planned
tranquility.
(5.29)
If
you can see the light
you are not lonely
the shadow will
listen to you
if
you have a dream
longings of day and night
are
happiness.
(6.1)
Childhood
like coffee
memorable
childhood
like the sun
full of vitality
childhood
like a dream
naivete lost
after waking up
childhood
like a rubik's cube
all emotions turned
shifted
childhood
like a brook
flowing merrily
in the green mountain
childhood
like waves
jumping heatily
in the vast ocean
childhood
like stars twinkling
blinking
like endless
mysterious stories
childhood
like a boat
rocking
swaying
like touching
fairy tales
childhood
like a photo album
recording every
wonderful moment
beautiful memory.
(5.29)
Water
boiling at 0 degree celsius
the heat of summer
persuaded gently
to exit
autumn entering
gradually
the birght screen as thin
as the wings of an insect
the color of frog
the blue brocade
woven into the texture of
moonlight
the flower god
lotus is a phonogram
a form shaped like its attitude
articulate like the streaming acoustic
she
waking up from a deep sleep
gaunt
green shirt is still
brght
while the fog is busy
drawing back the curtain.
(6.15)
(Poems)
These
strange articles
revealing
scattered
uneven
joy and sorrow
like the sun coming
naturally
rising magnificently
falling
soberly.
(6.15)
(In a painting)
Every experience
can be painted as
a beautiful landscape
pink
or tender orange
each one has
a sky of
a different color
the joys and sorrows
are the warm and cold colors
in the painting
bright
or dark
paints
that dye
the rocks and clouds of
the mountain.
(6.15)
(Footsteps of rain)
The blue sky
becoming darker
the cold wind
writing the prologue
the dull eye
dyeing emptiness
the lost heart
unrepentant
about the legacy of
grief
cloud crying
ignoring the sad tree
the footsteps of rain
so lonely
so lonely.
(Forgotten) (6.15)
Heavy rain
like heart tearing
the wind
like shadows blurred
the dark night needs to be
quiet
the quiet scar needs to be
forgotten.
(6.15)
Loneliness is a garden
a hunter embracing songs
listening to the growing
loneliness
escaping the dust of the past
a leopard carrying the moon
wildflowers keeping secrets
a hunter catching
sunset
in the depth of night
traversing the footsteps of the forest
drowning
thoughts.
a hunter embracing songs
listening to the growing
loneliness
escaping the dust of the past
a leopard carrying the moon
wildflowers keeping secrets
a hunter catching
sunset
in the depth of night
traversing the footsteps of the forest
drowning
thoughts.
(6.15)
The wind of June
landing
clear as crystal
light as ribbon
light as dream
immersed in such clearness
reveling in gentleness
in a weekend
under the willow
i'm hypnotized
by the wind of June
the wind of June
is a dream
the beautiful wreath
in a dream
where the bellflowers jingle
where affection is
bouundless
the wind of June
knitting
memory
i won't
forget.
(6.15)
The wind on the highland careful
like careful moonlight
careful sadness
villagelight
starlight
a bit of softlight
scattered in the gully
the ravine of smoke
warming the vast
summer night
a flock of pigeons falling
fluttering like seeds
pecking the bygone moments
mystical and messy
like the distance
on the lonely plateau
ordinary life and story
along with more and more
details
intricate like moths
scrambling for light.
(6.15)
(Gentle night)
One, two, stars blinking
lighting up the night sky
one, two, hearts racing
toward the twilight
the blue sea
the blue sky
the blue tide
melancholy breeze
melancholy mountain
melancholy wave
dried feeling
dried face
dried love
withered leaves
withered flowers
withered longings
hurried years
busy travelers
commonplace shadows
barren town
desolate light
the confusion of youth
silent words
silent tears
silent muteness
heartache
insensitivity
mixed
a journey
a bridge
calming
a raft
a stream
comforting
arrival
laughter
reality
ending
overture
darkness and hope
whispering
in sleep.
(6.18)
Sitting alone in the clouds
this morning
overlooking all things
the world was quiet
except the heart and the wind
there's no other sound
seeing the green hills and meandering water
surrounding
the city
i once lived
it was a child then.
(6.24)
Wind catching time
earth drowning
tomorrow's rain
cold eyes extinguishing
songs
a cigar
shortening freedom
inch by inch
night suddenly sees
daylight
spare clothes deck the room
books and papers chaotic
memories spilled
poetry lost
forest nearing the edge of autumn
foxes measuring
the shades of the village
flame imprisoning youth and letters
imagination broken
ellipses
far away
time loosened
fables all over the ground
drunken
at the feet.
(6.18)
When history becomes history
people in oblivion
like amnesia
like patients mad and epileptic
eyes all red
looking for what
they're looking for
broken bricks and tiles sounding
Beethoven's ninth symphony
stealing gems and treasures
in deep
horror-revealing
night.
people in oblivion
like amnesia
like patients mad and epileptic
eyes all red
looking for what
they're looking for
broken bricks and tiles sounding
Beethoven's ninth symphony
stealing gems and treasures
in deep
horror-revealing
night.
A ray of sunshine
kept in heart
to be hugged
in loneliness
eyes closed listening
to the melody of wind
a feeling
a tone
at this time
beautifying all
thoughts.
(6.25)
Softly
nestling on my face
cool
like silk
the autumn rain
unexpected
activating the calm lake
urging the rambling footsteps
under the umbrellas
what's flickering
butterfly or swallow
swaying in the wind
a delightful night
thoughts suffusing the pond
tapping on the window
singing in a dream
there's a beautiful lady
by the water.
(6.28)
Midsummer morning
the breeze is slightly cool
walking on the road
perhaps it's the rain in the night
the air mixed with the smell of dew
an unnown tree on the roadside
caressed by the breeze
looking proud
birds chirping
cheering
a touch of dawn
amazing
bright light shining
rising from the east
warming
this midsummer morning
accompanied by
good mood
and enthusiasm.
(6.27)
Rays of dazzling fireworks
colorful lights
piercing the quiet
lighting up the night sky
lighting up a corner
lighting up a lonely heart
but fleeting
fireworks
beautiful
making us feel warm
yet
so cold.
(6.28)
One day
the angel of happiness
i met in a dream
woke up wondering
where is happiness
so i began a journey
to seek it
i met a beggar
he said "happiness is in the bowl of money"
i met a student
he said "happiness lies in the certifacate"
i met a mayor
he said "happiness is in the stamp on the desk "
i met a patient
he said "happiness is in the most desirable health"
i met the driver of a car accident
he said "happiness is in safety that's neglected "
i met a lovelorn man
he said "happiness is in the love that's lost"
i met a divorced husband
he said " happiness is in the marriage before it's been broken"
i met a childless old man
he said " happiness is in a harmonious family"
i was confused
where is happiness
in a trance i heard the voice of the angel
"happiness is in everyone's heart"
"happiness is the most desired thing in everyone's heart"
but i'd like to know
is happiness out of reach
the angel replied
"the friends of happiness are contentment
and cherish"
"they will help you find
happiness".
(6.28)
Opening the window
facing the sun
hope is coming
yet seems so far away
the window is cold
the brief stop in memory
is the fragrance of
multiflora rose.
(6.28)
The movie
Roman Holiday
the background
the happy ending
a living ad for
the fountain of happiness
that people aspire
actually it's the sculptural art
of Bernini
presenting the semi-elliptical pool
photographically
in the hearts of tourists
they throw coins over their left shouders
and wish for
good health
love and a reunion in
Rome.
(6.28)
As if
stepping on the desert
barefoot
time rushing
bring back first thought
in the heart
wind silently rocking
swings
occasionally
a few withered butteflies
stay
with the faint light of dawn
as if
passing through a wall
water flowing
lighting up the dimness
in the heart
the hour hand of the pocket watch
telling of the flow
of time
sometimes mild
sometimes high
sunset
petunias shutting doors and windows
playing
the lengthiness of night
as if
walking across desolation
alone
wind soughing
sowing faint tingling cold
dilapidated wall finishing a new
makeup
gorgeous face masking
inner sadness
moon over treetops
branches swaying vast
waiting for the light of stars
the extinction of
the scenery.
(6.30)
On the red earth
the black reflection of the sky
red blade
scratches of banknotes
red wine
red flame
decadent cigarettes
red roses
red sun
continue to fall
red sports car running
in the dark velley
red floor
comes from the savage forest
red face lies in
red lacquered coffin
red moon gaping
at midnight.
(6.28)
The gray nobility
plundered melancholy
the anemic sunlight
probing the drapery
of rain
stripes of sunset
impressed on the window grilles
the dark knight is
in the night breeze
the veil of fog and starlight
offshore
the gray nobility tempting
outside
the accrodian door.
(6.30)
Fallen leaves
afterglow
what an aesthetically beautiful autumn trail
walking in late autumn
feelings are drunken by bursts of wind
dark green trees bow their heads
they are going to bed early tonight
people and vehicles during the day
exhaust you physically mentally
walking gently
not making the slightest sound
passing quietly
the stone bridge
rushing water
dispensable shadows
crumbled
to pieces.
(6.30)
Throstle Alley has no throstles
Throstle Alley is an ordinary alleyway
Throstle Alley knows not desolation
all kinds of people enter
there's a hostel in every step in it
a bar
a shop, restaurant, pharmacy, parlor
Throstle Alley has no night
no lights
people are always blind
everything here is serious
lodging needs to be registered
every cap in the pharmacy is authorized
every wall has a license on it
uniformed people come and go
this is the zone of harmony.
(7.1)
Walking on moonlight
on the path to home
the clouds in the sky
lenghty
walking on heavy rain water
on mud
the rain
ticking
ticking
this summer
the moon hollow
the clouds lengthy
again
walking on
those years
buried with deep
deep memories.
(7.1)
Dark night
monotonous emptiness
the only star
and moon
the moon bright
the star dark
walking in the solitary alley
darkness flooding ahead
walking
breeze blowing
unseen
darkness filling
the line of sight
endless
the only star and moon
in the sky
the moon is bright
the star is
dark.
(7.1)
Loooking for another dream
in your dream
the sceney reluctant to see me
left its trace
in your shadow
i met you
in a forgotten corner
your eyes are
the freedom i've been
looking forward to
another dream hidden in
clouds with water
the cloud that
the water long for
is also
my dream.
(7.1)
The world
walking out of the tv
tv that opens up
narrow horizon
the face of the night
is a steep mountain
you would be able to touch
the cold stone
by reaching out
your hand
rugged mountain
looking at the sky
a little house
in the mountain
the courtyard a cluttered picture
faces of children in the light
of a torch
filled with hopes of
tomorrow
the earth is a naughty child
spinning endlessly
the city like a magical fairy tale
the people have forgotten
the mountain
far from them
today
wires that cross mountains
thousands of miles
introduces the sun
into the mountains
illuminates the depth
of night
tonight
the soul of the city
sleeping in the quiet night
of the mountain
the light
will be the origin
of dreams.
(7.6)
From here to the other end
climbing tirelessly
fearless of loneliness
day after day
year after year
knitting beautiful gridlines
with poetic heroicness
fiery heart
persistent love
deeply in love
with the whole summer.
climbing tirelessly
fearless of loneliness
day after day
year after year
knitting beautiful gridlines
with poetic heroicness
fiery heart
persistent love
deeply in love
with the whole summer.
(7.1)
Lonely moon
steps out of the clouds
dim light reflected on the lillow
like its hazy image
that evokes
melacholy fantasy
the moon flying far
secret light
shining in
quiet serenity
through dark curtains
faint rays
flowers floating in
the residual biting wind
the moon
slipping away
in the bright
sky.
steps out of the clouds
dim light reflected on the lillow
like its hazy image
that evokes
melacholy fantasy
the moon flying far
secret light
shining in
quiet serenity
through dark curtains
faint rays
flowers floating in
the residual biting wind
the moon
slipping away
in the bright
sky.
(7.6)
Ants moving home
rainbow of curiosity
thousands of whys
no detailed answers
the most elusive is
human nature
unfathmable
incomprehensible
big shots in handcuffs
commoners down and out
good houses blown up
others trafficking drugs
they say cherish life
and stay away from drugs
that drug trafficking
drug abuse are illegal
do they really not know
divorce rates are so high among celebs
growing up
coming to understand
that they know everything
but seems like it's just emptiness they know
avarice
childhood is better
carefree
no troubles.
rainbow of curiosity
thousands of whys
no detailed answers
the most elusive is
human nature
unfathmable
incomprehensible
big shots in handcuffs
commoners down and out
good houses blown up
others trafficking drugs
they say cherish life
and stay away from drugs
that drug trafficking
drug abuse are illegal
do they really not know
divorce rates are so high among celebs
growing up
coming to understand
that they know everything
but seems like it's just emptiness they know
avarice
childhood is better
carefree
no troubles.
(7.6)
The afternoon sun
through the broken lattice window of foliage
riding on the breeze
submerging a sea of books
the golden waves
rising
in a corner.
through the broken lattice window of foliage
riding on the breeze
submerging a sea of books
the golden waves
rising
in a corner.
Night in the city
bizarre light
produces fantastic beauty
night in the city
enchanting
songs and dances
merry peacefulness
scattered souls
seeking thrills
the charm of
depravaty.
(7.6)
Everybody likes to hear stories
i don't have one
but i've heard a lot of stories
someone elses' stories
some people say
"i want a big house
with alot of doors
wooden metal glass
every door leads to a story
every story has it's own
shadow"
some say
"i want to buy a big fish tank
to have many many fishes
red orange white multicolored
and every fish is a story
every story has its own
memory"
some say "i want a big flower pot
to plant many many flowers
elegant fresh flirtatious glamorous
every flower will grow into a story
each one will have its own footstalk"
people are used to calling
things of the past a story
the beginning of a story is always
a long time ago
it seems the longer the time
the more things are worthy of
retrospecting.
(7.19)
The starry sky
of nothingness
heavy darkness
infiltrating
skyline
revealing
glimmer of hope
dim
dazzling
again and again
vast sky
like the sea
intermittent waves
sweeping
galloping
flushing
shiny shadows
wanton burning
extinguished by
lifeless ink
resolute as Prometheus
stealing fire of the sky
enduring the visceral pain
eroded by eagles
may all the stars
exude eternal light
darkless
silenceless
eternal.
(7.18)
Rain
heavy
cold water
occupies streets
moviegoers
watching rain
the rain that acts out
the same script
rain
heavy
scouring houses
exposing clarity
glaring colors are
the wall of civilization
being erected
rain
heavy
all trees
still green
at the instigation of
the wind
they close their eyes
rain
heavy
the meteorological bureau is
its home
the way home
no traffic lights
no crossroads
its parents are
meteorological experts
(7.19)
Listen
to the breaths of wind
in the moonlight
feel
the faint tranquility of freedom
imagine
running in the wind
a string of wonderful tones
what's swaying
the rain in late autumn
ripples of flowing water.
(7.22)
A little window
grazed with
mountains
rivers
graced with
sun
drizzle
all the way
happiness
loaded into
a suitcase
poured onto
jungle
waterfalls
flowers
old buildings
airplane
watching blue skies
recalling
memorable
moments.
(7.28)
Shearing
the light of spring
to knit the paradise
of dream
embroidering
a painting
to color the sadness
of rain
putting up
a mirror
to reflect the glory
of love
composing a song
to play
desolation
picking up
a bunch of leaves
to mail
to thoughts
experiencing some
wind and rain
to raise
the northern light
lighting up
a candle
to illuminate
the road ahead
taking a boat
to enter
the heart of
the ocean
climbing a mountain
to enjoy the view
in the eyes
channeling a stream
to wash away
the scar
holding a ray of sunlight
to decorate
the clarity of
the window pane
performing a comedy
to show the charm
of the human soul
embracing moon and stars
sprinkling them onto
the hollowness
of the sky
starting with
farming
a barren land
to cultivate
green-colored
hope.
(7.28)
Time
running
tirelessly
impressions are its
footprints
memories are
masterpiece
time
like a ruthless knife
changing peoples
carving lives
time
singing
every note is us
time
is the big stage of life
with music playing
writing
a life with no
regrets.
(7.28)
A pond full of
lotuses
in the green memory
of the afternoon
the wayward time
blooming
into romantic
hues
quietly lingering
the misty rain
hesitant footsteps by the
lake
writing
natural
harmony
lonely boat can't
catch up
the joy of carps
dismal
on the shore full of
worthlessness
shuttling in
the green landscape
not just bottles of multicolored
cars
your joy
colorful umbrellas
swift breeze comes running
to watch the changing
clouds
drizzle crafting
your face
a new lotus
the memory of
shyness of clouds
lingering of rain
silence of lotuses.
(7.28)
Night
a perfect combination of
blue light and darkness
stars paving
the most beautiful background
moon depicting
gorgeous tones
quiet secluded serenity
the world hypnotized
gorgeous expanse of stars
moonlight like water
like muslin
night
everything so mysterious
because of its presence
all earthliness has
succumbed to it.
(8.1)
The winter rain
like fine hairs on a cow's back
gently
falling on earth
tiny raindrops invisible yet are able to
dampen the ground
winter rain
like white crayon
casting mist on the hillside
bringing a scarf to the hill
yet it is chilling
the hill
winter rain
like a soundless prophecy
always reminding people
that cold has arrived
telling us to return home
winter rain
falling
quieting the path
poeticizing
the world.
(8.1)
Windless night
stars are sparse
insects and grass are
asleep
the cyan night
pulled down by the clouds
slowly
the weary sea
silent
boat sailing
light shaking
the cyan night
shrouding a patch of
ocean
the childhood kite
flying in ecstacy
across cyan walls
cyan tiles
flying
to the distant dreamland
through the shadows of
time
cyan night
fireflies chatting
with travelers
cyan mountains
towering
embracing the sea
in magical moonlight
cyan traces
amongst surging white paper
the painted tree
flying birds looming
cyan window frames
white windmill stops
to rotate
the windchime
in cool memory
patiently jingling
broken words
cyan night
tonight
fearless of
sleeplessness.
(Morning) (8.9)
Cool wind
kissing faces
sun hiding in a dark corner
for fear of dark clouds
swallows flying
twittering
singing the poetry
of life
cars roaring
bustle of the city
staged
people traveling
rushing
entering dream
in the heart
occasionally there's
a few cottony clouds drifting
playfully
time running
the earth spinning
the first dream
like a little bird in the sky believing
the sky will be
more splendid
and beautiful paint will
paint another
piece of sky.
(8.9)
After going through
darkness
a sound is earnestly
calling
eternal beauty
a cluster of sparrows in the air
a road kissed again
by the boundless expanse
of sun
hazy sky and leisurely smoke
the entire ground sprinkled
with golden grains
cheerful voice of a alrk
close at hand
sending tweets of dawn
across the sky
vague shadows of old friends
in the shiny red clouds
children who had returned home
now playing resting
in the clouds
the heart melted
into a good morning
the foothills sprinkled
with sunlight
the luster of hope
dawn
singing the sacred song
goddess of the horizon
waving her bright arm
showing
her precious smile
dawn
higher than death
conquered fear
amiable and dear
dawn
the most gentle footsteps
most approachable
truth.
(8.9)
Light and shadow
pulling memories
away
swaying
in the fleeting
withering
years
gazing back
again
everything
like smoke curling
the old pawn shop in
memory
flipping the dusty
blue memory
again and again
former colors fading
fragments of memories
memorable
touching
scattering
gradually
thinning
fading
away
in the withered pulse
of the fleeting years
like rotten fermented leaves
rotting
again.
(Segments of memories) (8.9)
The ancient tears of
Cleopatra
broken
in the silhouette
of time
buried in red dust
memory walking amogst clean ice
turned into
soot
everything gone away
with time
turned into
a river
by memory
the singing past
submerged in water
will evolve into
those old pictures
and scenes
weaving justice and sadness
into stars
we'll find them
in the tears of moon
refined and turned into
mandala
and sadness will be extracted
and purified
into
violets.
Dawn (8.9)
a ray of
brightness
dyeing the entire
horizon
the gradually rising
dawn
dispersing darkness
of a corner
the earth
awakened
butterflies fluttering
in the wind
flowers competing
song birds gathering
unraveling
the chapter of
ornately beautful
daytime
dusk
dazed drowsy setting sun
withdrawing
light and heat
darkness becomes
the theme
silence as the background
coldness sweeping thorugh
all footholds
the biting cold
the bleak loneliness
the abjection
composing the dark chapter of
twilight
the distant shore
i'm watching
the whole chapter of
the day.
(Sounds of Night) (8.9)
Nature
in the vast night
dark wind messing up
thoughts
ghosts of the shadowy trees
a messy dance
when a drop of dew falling
regretfully
the midnight epiphyllum cactus
sighing
best memories
gone with the wind
questions like
floral quietness
lightness
eventually
dissipated.
(Gentleness) (8/9)
The distance between
spring and wind
seperated by winter
chill and frost
the passage through
the wilderness
cold and lonely
awaiting
the smile of springtime wind
tenderness
all over the
mountains.
(8/9)
A cicada's life
brief but legendary
you are the throat of
summer
crying tenderly
screaming wildly
the spirit of summer
weak and thin
yet infatigable
in the burning years
learning the essence of
tree
your singing
ignites passion
some songs will always
echo
in life
a cicada
flies to summer
sings in summer
dies in summer
summer
a talk that never ends
writing over and over again
a touch of sun
hearbeat
rippling
glowing
irregularly
spelling out
slowly
that figure.
(8/9)
Moonlight
shining on the cat
on the roof
the cat is sending a warm smile
to the lonely sky
and waiting for the light of dawn
waiting for the sky
to send him back
a brilliant sun.
(8/10)
Summer
wrapped around blue sky
dyeing clouds
sometimes deeper
than the ocean
sometimes shallower
than the flowing stream
summer
an crying baby left behind
by spring
the cries of cicadas
throughout the forest
become the voice
of the earth
summer
is a forest
eyes grow on treetops
extending hands
to touch the world
summer
hot
sincere
crazed
summer
dusk is a long lost brother
like people...
(8.10)
Howling
the sound of wind
slow
heavy
anxious
but light
and stops
and disappears
the familiar voice
clear yet fuzzy
calling calling
the sound of wind
slow
gentle
melancholy
but stops
erased
the footsteps of wind
gone.
(8.25)
Stray cat
running toward the wall
overgrown with ivy
evading attention of passersby
hiding in shadow and desolation
of the tree
when children see it
they keep this a secret
stray cat
haunts the rose bushes
stirs mystery and moonlight
prints a shadow on the fence
the flowers and soil
calling
its infinite charm
the world
quiet
no one will find it
stray cat
like a myth
curling its tail
flies up the wall
loneliness is what it tastes everywhere
and light is the power it receives
and when the moonlight is
sprinkled into its eyes
the stray cat
holding hope very
very tightly.
(8/28)
A decade
of ups and downs
has stunned
time
or gentle years
looking in the mirror
a changed face
changed appearance
opening
the window of memory
there are distances
and closeups
a chromometer carved by time
recording
full of memories
a river flowing in the heart
sometimes calm
sometimes rough
always
following the rules
floating down
surging
time flies
years silent
face changes
only heart stays the same
long as feelings are good
it's a sunny day.
(8.28)
You are lonelier
than a seed
you bury yourself
deeper
and deeper
others are searching
in the direction of your finger
not an exclamation mark
nor the answer to a riddle
but to let two souls meet
no matter who finds you
you have to die
while the person closest to you
stands in the reverberation of bell
listening to rain.
than a seed
you bury yourself
deeper
and deeper
others are searching
in the direction of your finger
not an exclamation mark
nor the answer to a riddle
but to let two souls meet
no matter who finds you
you have to die
while the person closest to you
stands in the reverberation of bell
listening to rain.
(8.28)
Westerly tiptoeing
in the cracks amongst
twigs
at this moment
the bugs in the grass
fright-stricken
wooden door shuts its mouth
the fence
trying to grow taller
in the setting sun
only the scent
of fruits are too strong
inebriating
the janitor's dogs.
in the cracks amongst
twigs
at this moment
the bugs in the grass
fright-stricken
wooden door shuts its mouth
the fence
trying to grow taller
in the setting sun
only the scent
of fruits are too strong
inebriating
the janitor's dogs.
winter day (8.28)
Hot and humid days
cold wind
sun stupified
drifiting in the sky
silence of mountains
cool and bright
the valley
hath no end
like the pale warm winter
of the freehand brushwork of time
hidden in the spun yarn
the heart rises and falls
travels through time
finding the existence of peace
and entrusts it to
the soul.
Hot and humid days
cold wind
sun stupified
drifiting in the sky
silence of mountains
cool and bright
the valley
hath no end
like the pale warm winter
of the freehand brushwork of time
hidden in the spun yarn
the heart rises and falls
travels through time
finding the existence of peace
and entrusts it to
the soul.
Wrapped in green and sunlight
looking at the world warmly
touring the seasons as
a king
elegantly dressed
in thorned clothing
careless about
the rain and wind
stubbornly guarding
the north
short and rotund
accompanied by the cold night
and city of stars
smiling
lightly.
(8.29)
What is happiness
it is a grass
born to be quiet
it is a river in daylight
a poetic rhyme that
touches me
what is happiness
it is a story sung
throughout the world
prolonged
unremitting
the one sleeping in the long river of
history
the baby in the cradle of
galaxy
what is happiness
it is a tired seagull
sitting in a room
waiting for the hut
of sunset
it is the gentle friendship
when spring breeze is green
a dog sitting on the shore
facing the river in a daze
what is happiness
it is the red glow
entering the setting sun
happiness is a dream
immersed
in a noise.
it is a grass
born to be quiet
it is a river in daylight
a poetic rhyme that
touches me
what is happiness
it is a story sung
throughout the world
prolonged
unremitting
the one sleeping in the long river of
history
the baby in the cradle of
galaxy
what is happiness
it is a tired seagull
sitting in a room
waiting for the hut
of sunset
it is the gentle friendship
when spring breeze is green
a dog sitting on the shore
facing the river in a daze
what is happiness
it is the red glow
entering the setting sun
happiness is a dream
immersed
in a noise.
(8/29)
Autumn arrives
insects sing louder
high-pitched melodies
singing for
autumn
an endless song
like the music of
the autumnal harvest
the moon silhouetted against
the treelined path
walking
listening to the singing
of grasses
the quiet night
bringing beautiful
reveries
the autumn cold
like the end of a story
with the arrival of frost
the song of insects will become
memory
a dream for
the coming year.
insects sing louder
high-pitched melodies
singing for
autumn
an endless song
like the music of
the autumnal harvest
the moon silhouetted against
the treelined path
walking
listening to the singing
of grasses
the quiet night
bringing beautiful
reveries
the autumn cold
like the end of a story
with the arrival of frost
the song of insects will become
memory
a dream for
the coming year.
(City) (9.10)
A sky full of flies
a flurry of stars
the crowded pier
a cry in the hallway
water droplets on the window
cutting through
a lonely place
tapas in the street
waiting for the exploitation of
the executioners
the crossroads
bustling with signals
of blame
lilies in the garden
basking in the sun
leisurely.
A sky full of flies
a flurry of stars
the crowded pier
a cry in the hallway
water droplets on the window
cutting through
a lonely place
tapas in the street
waiting for the exploitation of
the executioners
the crossroads
bustling with signals
of blame
lilies in the garden
basking in the sun
leisurely.
Tea time (9/10)
Warmth of the afternoon
laziness on the swings
a cup of English tea
the smell of flowers
the sound of birds
the taste of
the graceful moments of life
under the warm warm sun
everything seems so beautiful
likethe cither.
Warmth of the afternoon
laziness on the swings
a cup of English tea
the smell of flowers
the sound of birds
the taste of
the graceful moments of life
under the warm warm sun
everything seems so beautiful
likethe cither.
Banquet of evening (9.10)
Recorded
in the moment of twilight
faded
from the golden wheat
when the last ray of light tilted
in the field
a truth of yesterday appears
in a dream
memory and the past stop
thoughts silent
like sleep
things of the past
begin to retreat
a familiar picture
flighty face in a dream
and the past innocence
looking back
everything has
passed by youth
listening to the sound of hourglass
what have we kept
back to the past
crankiness stranded
childhood
there's still a
vague naive
appearance
the sun then
planted in the field of
gold
sand passing through
the evening
the past is no longer
young
when we have lost
the moments of arguing tears
isn't dream passing through
the hourglass
in silence
too
the truth of the past
frittered in
the gravel
our lives have always been
in fear
for the truth
and the present becomes the past
immediately
every move becomes
the past
and we stay with the elderly
calmly
on the side of the field
listening to the past
listening to memory
thinking quietly
of the past
of memory
passing in the
process of thinking
we can't deny
we must understand and value
we use accumulation of gravel
to fill the distance between
the past and tomorrow
and leave behind
the boat of time
and rush toward the
feast of evening
of the past.
Human (9/10)
Throughout he end of the world
the iceberg is still
in constant dissolution
we want a piece of
peace
but are eager to face
defeat
the earth is going round
every deserted inch of
land
we are moving round
every awn of
the sun
how do we embrace
the florescence
of the ice and snow
to stop
the cliff of sunset
have the repeated promises been
abandoned by us
do the waves of the sea need
to overthrow themselves
on the sinking ship
and be excluded
by the other shore
and locked by an oath
in a corner which
will soon be
forgotten
the survival of hatred
in the glory of iron and blood
pitying the only courage
in the fantasy of peace
the prophec of doomsday
hasn't ceased a moment
the face of iceberg
increasingly
fading
have the humans already been abandoned
by courage of iron and blood
who is crying
undersea.
(9/10)
Street lights boiling eyes
the air diffusing like water waves
occasionally
the train stirs
the sound of water
no sleepiness
night blinking
like the light in a beast's eye
night wind launches the summer moon
into orbit
the world seems to be melting
like a wisp of steam melting
into dawn.
Bamboo and stone (9/10)
A clump of bamboo
a pyroxenite
gently snuggling
quietl weaving
time
stone is strong
carrying the whole mountain
stone is simple
having its own
strong belief
no rhetorics
an ordinary shepherd
a backbone jacking up
the sky of a canyon
the silent valley
the lightest clouds
only birds would laugh at their
silliness
the bamboo is a beauty
with a soft heart
a sturdy soul
with green-colored pledge
the years of green flowing leaves
the fiery hot rock of life
breeding the ageless mountains
in the silent emptiness of
strength.
(9/13)
Cropped moonlight
lifting the curtains of night
shadows on the wall
chasing the footsteps of wind
eavesdropping on
the loneliness of night
i hold the hand of night
with memory
i see the walls of temple
hear the chanting of the scripture
towing a devout faith
back to the front of
the Buddha.
(9/13)
The wind of September
warm warm coolness
blowing
across the heart
feel
the joy of autumn
September
activated a journey of harvest
the inner joy
is the singing of soul
the sun of
September
still brilliant and warm
filling the earth
filling the field
with gorgeous golds
the bugle call of harvest
sounded
just like a beautiful piece of music
mountains in Spetember
revealing maturity
and stability
picturesque
passion in full flow
the kind of rich colors
like a good mellow wine
September comes
quietly
ecstatic and shining
September is ripe
sweet
what are you still thinking about
what are you still waiting for
this is a good time
go enjoy it
and share it
let happiness
ripple
and roam.
Awake (9/13)
Morning
rising
the city is still asleep
while the radio is already up
the traffic gets busy
there are the footsteps of people
like the pursuit nof love
but also like escaping
those who caught up
begin to sleep
those who didn't
are looking at their cellphones
waiting
departure or
destination
the vegetarian dumplings you sent me
in the beginning
and the hot soy milk
i threw them into the dark box
in the end
right before
the city is awakened.
Morning
rising
the city is still asleep
while the radio is already up
the traffic gets busy
there are the footsteps of people
like the pursuit nof love
but also like escaping
those who caught up
begin to sleep
those who didn't
are looking at their cellphones
waiting
departure or
destination
the vegetarian dumplings you sent me
in the beginning
and the hot soy milk
i threw them into the dark box
in the end
right before
the city is awakened.
The sun is old (9/13)
The sun is old
light is dim
time has stopped
the residual wind
roaring powerlessly
fallen leaves
slowly dying
trees evoking
longings
the secluded lake
rippling
dusk
vanishing
weary figures
dissipated
the mountains
the ancient unwavering mountains
still sighing
why are they sighing
because the sun is old
the light is dim
and time has
stopped.
The sun is old
light is dim
time has stopped
the residual wind
roaring powerlessly
fallen leaves
slowly dying
trees evoking
longings
the secluded lake
rippling
dusk
vanishing
weary figures
dissipated
the mountains
the ancient unwavering mountains
still sighing
why are they sighing
because the sun is old
the light is dim
and time has
stopped.
Glass bottle (9/15)
Who knows
the wings of butterfly
could incite a storm
the light of a firefly
could illuminate
the whole Valentine's night
the world is
small and only i can feel it
exists in a sealed glass bottle
looking out
alone
noises and blasts
not mine
spring summer autumn and winter
are just out-of-body experiences
the storm
is outside the glass bottle
the wings of butterfly trembling
beautiful luster
where are the fireflies
they're all over the Valentine's sky.
CInema (9/19)
Every heart
surging
comes here for someone
comes here for a story
for a story which
its ending can be
seen
exciting, happy
boring, disappointed
yearning, a perfect ending
watching, touching, funny
likes some of of emotion to be included
and wandering.
Enter your unique feedback
an echo, ironical, a like
foot the bill with your own ideas
all of this
perhaps injected with the hard work
of the protagonist
with the visual imagery of each role
getting the endorsement is
an acknowledgement
every spectator who comes
comes here with admiration
and leaves
with a feeling
a pleasant one.
Shut-in (9/19)
After dinner
i always take a walk around the yard
from that window to the back of the house
to the field behind it
aimlessly
wandering
sometimes i stop for a while
sometimes i don't
sometimes i just wanna walk alone
for example today
sunset like blood
and the wind hasn't been blowing
no messages from you
the sunflowers look down
in silence
a row of corn stand
blankly
and i
in such a quiet serene day
don't know how much time has been
dreamed away.
(9/19)
Tonight
is the hope and prayer
of the year
a hope
from generation to generation
tonight
it carries many many myths
and legends
tonight
will forever be
in the hearts of
dreamers
12 cycles
12 waxes and wanes
for once
you have come full circle
to the max
the bright moonlight
like holy water sprinkled
every heart lights up
immersed in such a night
everything flashing
tonight
hope and harvest coexist
tonight
a full moon in the sky
round round mooncakes
nourish the heart
every smile is
sweet
because tonight
we harvest the ripe success
and sow a new round
round
hope.
The shape of longing (9/19)
Forgotten
how long have i not lifted
a pen
cracked open a notebook
the freshly washed linen here
has a touch of
fragrance
outside the window
there's a beautiful burgundy
sky
so i decided to use the sleepy
photographic film
to record her delicate
contour
i know very well
she will eventually leave my sight
farther and farther
till she disappears
leaving only one word
hovering
in the night.
Sweet (9/19)
Your name has always been
a source of smile
your gentle breath
flows in my heart
every minute
every second.
Your name has always been
a source of smile
your gentle breath
flows in my heart
every minute
every second.
Rain season (9/19)
The rainy season is beautiful
beautiful
rainbow, wind and moon
poetry, butterflies and you
beautiful
ineffable
in a painting
in a story
No falling leaves in the painting
no separation in the story
only the thrills you give me
and warmth
and such a season
no bitter tears
we promise to make our vow
eternal
there's you
in this rainy season
turning reality into fairy tale
in this rain season where
there's you
fairy tale becomes reality
the rainy season is beautiful
beautiful
i forgot everything
but loving you.
The rainy season is beautiful
beautiful
rainbow, wind and moon
poetry, butterflies and you
beautiful
ineffable
in a painting
in a story
No falling leaves in the painting
no separation in the story
only the thrills you give me
and warmth
and such a season
no bitter tears
we promise to make our vow
eternal
there's you
in this rainy season
turning reality into fairy tale
in this rain season where
there's you
fairy tale becomes reality
the rainy season is beautiful
beautiful
i forgot everything
but loving you.
(9/19)
Autumn is a ruler
The call of cicadas
like the last thorn of sunlight
inserted into the ground
of autumn
like a sound rent
a pleasure that wrenches
through a deep serene
tunnel
the leaves besiege the loneliness
of the city
yearning is a seatless train
imagination crashed in the track
listening to the tears of the distant moon
the corroded mood
screaming
on the scaffold
the sun like a giant broom
cleaning every empty tomb
who is the master here
the birds have sent out invitations
the fence overgrown with moss
within a hundred meters
access is prohibited
the glass windows are the eyes
of the castle
faithfully observing
creatures and souls
day and night
and those smoky monsters are
swallowing
a lot of our
youth
autumn is a ruler measuring
a process
numbers are like puff pastries
once squeezed
there's not much nutrition left.
The call of cicadas
like the last thorn of sunlight
inserted into the ground
of autumn
like a sound rent
a pleasure that wrenches
through a deep serene
tunnel
the leaves besiege the loneliness
of the city
yearning is a seatless train
imagination crashed in the track
listening to the tears of the distant moon
the corroded mood
screaming
on the scaffold
the sun like a giant broom
cleaning every empty tomb
who is the master here
the birds have sent out invitations
the fence overgrown with moss
within a hundred meters
access is prohibited
the glass windows are the eyes
of the castle
faithfully observing
creatures and souls
day and night
and those smoky monsters are
swallowing
a lot of our
youth
autumn is a ruler measuring
a process
numbers are like puff pastries
once squeezed
there's not much nutrition left.
Morning (9/30)
I wanna wray of witness the first sunshine in the mountain
I wanna look at the big blue screen of the sky
I wanna feel the gentle summer breeze in the morning
I wanna listen to the melodies of the cicadas and the birds
in the forest.
I wanna wray of witness the first sunshine in the mountain
I wanna look at the big blue screen of the sky
I wanna feel the gentle summer breeze in the morning
I wanna listen to the melodies of the cicadas and the birds
in the forest.
Sunshine (9/30)
Early in the morning
a few birds in the yard
trees exuding fragrance
gourds vines and beans
crawling up the wall
love and happiness are always
close to us
smoke rising from rooftop
a plume of warmth
and mom making breakfast in the kitchen
standing there listening to the radio
singing a few lines from time to time
days are always
so full of sounds and colors
i like all the good things
family
dinner
sitting at the table together
happiness boiling
the aroma of pumpkin porridge and laughter
drifting
in a world filled with love
where sunshine is all over
the sky.
Early in the morning
a few birds in the yard
trees exuding fragrance
gourds vines and beans
crawling up the wall
love and happiness are always
close to us
smoke rising from rooftop
a plume of warmth
and mom making breakfast in the kitchen
standing there listening to the radio
singing a few lines from time to time
days are always
so full of sounds and colors
i like all the good things
family
dinner
sitting at the table together
happiness boiling
the aroma of pumpkin porridge and laughter
drifting
in a world filled with love
where sunshine is all over
the sky.
After rain (10.1)
Stars
adorning
dream
glistening like crystal
with a trace of silvery
dews
hitting
scattering
in the boundless
chaotic universe
and now i'm
lying here
bounded by grass
on an islet surrounded by
waves of grass
on a lawn
like wavy grass
as if i'm floating
on the green
green rippleless
water
it's the desolate moon
indifferently
shedding this
lonely white light
interwoben in
this dream
like a dream
a psychedelic night
everything
is not lost
won't lose the
original
appearance.
(10.1)
Day is green
day is white
day is yellow
day is red
day
like a fairy tale
the princess of forest with a wand
in her hand
fairy tale is an old man
with a red nose
squattting in the snow
looking at a pile of candles
a snowman
loved by bonfire
inch by inch
a snowman's day
a swashbuckling color
day turns bones into water
then nothingness
day
dressed in gold
like a beetle
in the misty rain
mottled
blurred
day
light as boiled water
tired
like sea-salted water
no need for polish
let it ripple
let it be
calm.
day (10.1)
Perhaps
we've forgotten that life is finite
or that we only remember
the infinity of life
we use life
to make a trade with time
why do we often feel
that days in the future
are always better and wonderful
and the present day
boring
the days gone
are always
so ridiculous.
(10.1)
The fall equinox
sad tears soaking forest
sad leaves
eyes red from crying
bitter fruits leaving
silently
faint singing of crows
over the solemn hills
there's only
bleak moonlight left
in the forest
breeze blowing
rustling
the quiet path
no songs of birds.
sad tears soaking forest
sad leaves
eyes red from crying
bitter fruits leaving
silently
faint singing of crows
over the solemn hills
there's only
bleak moonlight left
in the forest
breeze blowing
rustling
the quiet path
no songs of birds.
Drinking
the colors of sun
mixed with the white moonlight
embracing
wisps of wind
close to
the mind of the earth
no careless blooming
no heartless withering
having survived
difficulties and hardships
deep feelings melted
into the veins
melancholy buried
into the soil
the spring breeze if the whisper
of the Creator
a flower is a deep hidden love
a flower is God's confession
the beauty of Eden
will be back
again.
(10/16)
Beginning
or end
bringing laughter
dispeling
sadness
the cold midnight wind
blowing
slowly
sculptured crowd
snowy land
eager eyes
blossoming stars
the midnight train
traveling
alone
bringing cheers and laughter
bringing the embrace of
happiness
the midnight train
leaving only
snowy footprints
only
deep parallel
tracks.
(10/21)
The color of spring
is a vision
the color of summer
full of magic
the color of autumn
dignified and solemn
the color of winter
pure and clean
matchless.
is a vision
the color of summer
full of magic
the color of autumn
dignified and solemn
the color of winter
pure and clean
matchless.
(11/5)
Poetry is like code
no one is able to crack it
poetry is like sand
no one is able to measure it
poetry is like still water
no mood is able to stir it.
(11/5)
Colorful lights
decorating the brilliance of the city
night racing with day
presenting
a fantastic sight
cars come and go
as usual
in the streets
like the distant childhood
farther and farther
away
at the time we we wondering
on the road
with sparse lighting
strong wind
now the road is still there
sans the old look
afternoon (11/5)
Pale moonlight
a bouquet of tulips
a pair of gloves
a book
honest and tactful
the silence after leaves have fallen
every footprint
every segment of a movie
every cup of tea
the answers in the book
ending and beginning
doubt
fairy tale romance
sun fascinates
the eyes.
(11/8)
A pot of tea
a piece of music
let thoughts float in serenity
give the soul some time off
don't think
don't answer
don't get distracted by superficialities
let the mind dialogue
with the world
independently
like water
that washes away dirt
let the worries and chaos in the mind
go
let the soul take a break
go on trip with the rising
vapor of tea.
(11/26)
Violet snowflakes
violet streets
violet corners
violet lilacs
violet wind
dyeing the entire city
and in this
violet city
there's you
there's me.
(11/26)
Violet snow
flying in the sky
walking alone
the snow falling
melting
walking quietly
no end in sight
no looking back
no loneliness
no worries
no sorrow
just a quiet mind
a peaceful heart
that's seen everything
not troubled by worldliness
so free
so relaxed
so easy
walking
walking.
flying in the sky
walking alone
the snow falling
melting
walking quietly
no end in sight
no looking back
no loneliness
no worries
no sorrow
just a quiet mind
a peaceful heart
that's seen everything
not troubled by worldliness
so free
so relaxed
so easy
walking
walking.
(11/27)
A poet's shoreline
shimmering
broad-minded
vast
with traces of wind
figures of seagulls
ebb and flow
of thoughts
on the edge of
the shore
billowing waves
beating against
the heart
the rising blossoming white lotuses
on the waves
a meandering string of
footprints
i want to take you to the sea
the see the ebb and flow of thoughts
on the edge of
the shore.
shimmering
broad-minded
vast
with traces of wind
figures of seagulls
ebb and flow
of thoughts
on the edge of
the shore
billowing waves
beating against
the heart
the rising blossoming white lotuses
on the waves
a meandering string of
footprints
i want to take you to the sea
the see the ebb and flow of thoughts
on the edge of
the shore.
(12/3)
Walking through the gardenstaring at the sky
watching
the birds in the trees
squirrels are busy
dew is still on the rose
my childhood was here
when i was little
i used to sit on the trail
looking up at the autumn clouds
foggy
yet so clear
it's been so many years
my childhood memories are still left
in the forgotten garden.
(12/4)
A white room
sinking air agglomerating
nothing in sight
four walls of white
there's echo
swinging in the room
like a mottled fish
sinking to the lens-like bottom
a real fairy tale
has no end.
(12/6)
Two long concrete roads
intersect in the countryside
the intersection is
a beautiful town
a huge farmland surrounding houses
surrounding a cozy town
the town has a long history of legends
of beautiful love stories
beautiful women have walked the streets
generations of townies prosper and thrive here
there are people who leave this town
and never come back
and there are people who
just can't seem to leave
the small town is kinda like a village
and a village was its ancestor
the small town is more and more like a city
and a new city is going to be its
descendant
the small town inherited beauty and kindness
it is shining
with enduring cultures of an ancient civilization
beautiful streets
beautiful schools
happy lives
happy dances
when you look at the small town from a hill
it's just a corner of the horizon
but when you look at it
from a street
it is the entire
world.
(12/19)
Great happiness
endless happiness belongs to those who were born
close to the sun
the galaxy can see them
in love
walking
crying
moving around
carrying in their hands
a clock
that comes from the core of a rare earth
greater than all the unknown
more magnificent
the universe
extending infinitely in all directions
a black hole
extending downward
to the invisible
the weightless
living blood flowing
the stars above
the people living in the sky above
dust rejoicing among them
freely
men women and children
joy loneliness and love
floating
maturing
illuminating the sky with colors
they're everywhere
walking loving crying
the molecules in their soul
come from a galaxy
in the sky.
(12.27)
Squirrel squirrel
where are you going
where is your home
here is a forest belongs to us
we are both peace-loving
squirrel squirrel
where are you going
where is your goal
this is a home belongs to us
we protect it always
squirrel squirrel
where are you going
when are you gonna settle down
this is our companian
we love unity and solidarity
squirrel squirrel
where are you going
where is comfort
this is a world belongs to us
we are all in it
at the same time.
(12/27)
Covered with festive colors
inflated and floating
in midair
a beauty comparable with the cloud
carried away
amid other's flattery
bloated
with hubris
wanting to eclipse
the stars of the sun and moon
once injured
its physically
mentally
destroyed.
(12/27)
Happy
happiness
true happiness
everyday happiness
being rich is happiness
the contrary is also happiness
the origin of happiness is happiness
the source of good health is also happiness
the world is so big there's happiness everywhere
there's always happiness when we cast aside all worries.
(12/28)
When the sunshine floods the corridor
golden luminence imprinted on my face
a corridor that leads to glory
a corridor overflowing with sunshine.
(12/28)
The leaves outside the window
covered with goldenness
the flutter of low-flying butterflies
is the late autumn coolness
the breeze is the sorrow of early winter
outside is the flickering flashing lights
quiet persists through the incineration
the hourglass is leaking
the corner of the street where we hugged
the things once intoxicated me
have become what i'm obsessed with
time will not freeze
life goes on
good night
(12/28)
Having some tea
in the afternoon sun
listening to some
heart-warming words
on the windowsill
a pot of flower
blooming with elegance
time is not wasted
if spent in the company of
a few birds.
in the afternoon sun
listening to some
heart-warming words
on the windowsill
a pot of flower
blooming with elegance
time is not wasted
if spent in the company of
a few birds.
(12.28)
Walking under an umbrella
alone
in a kind of realm
listening to the sound of rain
footsteps of birds
river
cattle
a place faraway from the bustling city
no car horns
no thundering fireworks
only
sounds of nature
sounds of a spiritual world
let the soul meditate
and be cleansed
in the temple of peace.
alone
in a kind of realm
listening to the sound of rain
footsteps of birds
river
cattle
a place faraway from the bustling city
no car horns
no thundering fireworks
only
sounds of nature
sounds of a spiritual world
let the soul meditate
and be cleansed
in the temple of peace.
(12/28)
Vast grasslands
bathed in heart-warming sunshine
ancient looms chirping
shouting out ancient history
a group of sheep lying
standing
life is pleasant and relaxing
a little girl sitting quietly
looking at the sky
where are friends
the sky doesn't answer
perhaps it's just the ordinariness
of life.
bathed in heart-warming sunshine
ancient looms chirping
shouting out ancient history
a group of sheep lying
standing
life is pleasant and relaxing
a little girl sitting quietly
looking at the sky
where are friends
the sky doesn't answer
perhaps it's just the ordinariness
of life.
Life is a green hill
fruits are a gift
rain and snow are a must
life is a turquoise lake
calmness is peace
storm is reality
no one is willing to give up happiness
in order to grow
we are all miniature dust
in the great great universe
running ceaselessly
like the rotating earth
humility and exertion
searching for flickering ideals
when the lost wonders
start all over again
because
we have dreams that do not fade
tiny heartbeat
still it ennobles
the soul.
(12/28)
A little light
the moon's vow to the earth
silver veil
often torn to pieces
by the forest.
(12.28)
Memory hidden in an autumn
the sea snd sky
seperated by a layer of tulle
the face of rainbow obscured
in my hand is the most ordinary and pure love
you wrote to me
a poem patched together with happiness
in every word every line
there's longing
the distance of future is in grip
goodbye is the nostalgia years later
memory is buidling a fence
doodling that
yesterday.
Diary (12/28)
An hourglass stuffed with time
will pen again
beautiful droplets of the past
the soil after rain
the green in a pool
piano sitting in a room
that plays the true essence of happiness
the happy singing prose
the brilliant chanting summer
the tree hit by the wind
partita that stays in a dream
are fragmentary memories
in a diary that flows away
like water.
Blue sky (12.28)
Blue
across the line of sight
is the wind folding thoughts
the snow wiping tears
the bird forsaking solitude of the old days
the leaf completed aspiration and leaving
in silence
the sun tuning its own frequency
the fog tidying up gossip on weekdays
the most sincere vivid poetry sung in hearts of people
the blue skyline
painted by the wonderful brush of the painter
everything is miraculous
everything is so magical.
Poetess (12.28)
Before the advent of rain
she's sad
embracing the cumbersome history
in the street
wating for sunset
forlornness is the color of the season
after nightfall
she's very sad
a heavy rain took away the sunset
leaving her
and the street washed by time.
cactus (12.28)
Standing in the mighty desert
the cranium of wisdom
looking forward to a glimpse of
cold moon
intransigently waiting
the love of the earth
waves of sand
deeply buried
ancient road of sunset
and the dream of
the bosom of springtime
after the cries of camels
the exhibition of
a milennium.
Villa (12.28)
Trees stretching
the parasol
birds jumping in the lawn
leisurely
flowers of the breeze
around the house
the secluded courtyard seems
contented
a hoe is busy all day
cutting off loofahs gourds peppers and beans
all over the floor
civilization is dead
at the gate.
(12.28)
The second hand
You never know what fatigue is
tick tock...
thou the steps are insignificant
but you never stop even for a moment
many people want to have you
permanently
this wishful thinking is a hyperbole
you're like a kind of memory
cut into a segment of years
by countless thoughts
extended into
numerous centuries.
(12.28)
Hour hand minute hand second hand
racing
in a tiny circle
the hour hand waddling slowly
the minute hand seems to not have worked out for a long time
the second hand tall and thin
running round and round
leaving the hour
and minute hands
behind.
quiet memory (12.28)
Quietly
quiet sky
floating clouds
quiet woods
and fields
it's a comfortable feeling
quiet night
others have woken up
i'm still in the living room
recalling the stars
that night.
Light (12.28)
Flowing life
flowing song
the color of night
solemn and serene
rippling
the soul of life
like the splendor of gushing fire
casual moments
like brilliant rushing bubbles
uninterrupted
that's the call fo the heart
the whirlpool of youth
like clouds
soft
fluttering ethereally
in a dazzling galaxy.
(12.28)
The already withered
dead wood
is being reborn
a myriad of bright pink light
blooming in the season of flowers
sakura rain falling form the sky
taking longings
flies to the distant future
a diffrent future
with the same track
the sakura rain
a holy light that stops the weeping
such a feeling
such a mood
refered to by the mortals
as love.
(12.28)
Setting sun
Outside the window
cold wind
the sound of metal
dark road downstairs
extending
jagged houses
in a cluster
fortunately
there's a hint of sun
on the horizon
with flaming color
about to touch the ground
and redden the earth.
Color of twilight(12.28)
I like the hill in twilight
the clear shadow
the vast speechless silence
this kind of hue
creates its greatness
this state of mind
completes the gloom of night
even so
it's still warming the blue wilderness
filling its chest with passion
the elgance and grace of
the hill and dale
twilight
a heart so pure
blending comfortably freely
like the journey of life
facing the ups and downs
calmly.
A cup of coffee (12.28)
quietly exuding warmth
on the table
a share of sweetness
aroma integrated
into the air
coffee time
with ethereal music
gradually subsided mellowness
in a quiet afternoon
tinted with the color of coffee
and little musical notes
quietly jumping
into the cup.
winter rain (12.28)
Raindrops floating in the sky
falling on rustling leaves
walking slowly
pondering quietly
reddish leaves on the roadside
fluttering
the willow in the wind
dancing a graceful dance
a feel unique to winter
little raindrops falling on the lake
little ripples on the surface
another scenery
in the heart.
(12.28)
A variety of colored papers
folded into origami birds
every bird is written with a past
carrying a feeling
raised in the pond of time
shadows of birds soft and rippling
sometimes happy
sometimes sad
a balmy morning
a few origami birds released
flying into the pale blue sky
into the sun
the gradually colder autumn
a few gray origami birds
hovering in the fog and haze
turned into the tears
of clouds
winter trees (12.28)
Everything is progressively replaced
dark green of summer
beige of autumn
all attire returned
to earth
all luxuriance and barrenness ablated
the primitive realness is
the loneliness of a painting
the silence of a poem.
(12.28)
Morning
freshened up by last night's wind
dreams
half real half magic
overlapped as neon light
fog giggling
the world hidden
once again
the colors of nature chaotic
footsteps of walkers wetted
lost in the uncharted realm
of the morning
dews wetting wings of birds
moistening the florid language
on the roadside
a cheerful morning
like rain
like clouds
rain is the lace
that embellishes the mood
cloud is a letter
containing golden light
it's a sunny day.
sing (12.28)
In the beginning
language was not elastic
every word every syllable
solemn
later those words and phrases
stretched invisibly out of shape
by the voice
a method for conveying
the inner pain
a kind of expression representing
the inner joy
the space was filled with ebullience
since then life was rendered colors
and the voice will express
the tribute to
a good life.
(12.28)
Water
Soft
strong
powerful
wonderful
you're life
and future.
Cloud (12.28)
Chasing the wind
traveling to all corners
of the world
writing in the sky
shapes of romance
turned into rime
spectacular peak
kissing the sun
generating the most beautiful
afterglow
then it's no longer in a hurry
loneliness is newness
it resides in a calm ocean
and reverts to
the original
hieroglyph.
Chasing the wind
traveling to all corners
of the world
writing in the sky
shapes of romance
turned into rime
spectacular peak
kissing the sun
generating the most beautiful
afterglow
then it's no longer in a hurry
loneliness is newness
it resides in a calm ocean
and reverts to
the original
hieroglyph.
(12.28)
Squirrel
hosting a banquet in the forest
he invited the rabbit magpie
and other friends
the uninvited
crow
snake and scorpion
eat and drink
scrounging around
the monkey pilfers something
and disappear en masse
before the banquet is over
leaving a very chaotic scene
and a bewildered squirrel
the foods are gone
things are in a mess
all the friends are irate
they have no choice but to
pick up the pieces
together.
hosting a banquet in the forest
he invited the rabbit magpie
and other friends
the uninvited
crow
snake and scorpion
eat and drink
scrounging around
the monkey pilfers something
and disappear en masse
before the banquet is over
leaving a very chaotic scene
and a bewildered squirrel
the foods are gone
things are in a mess
all the friends are irate
they have no choice but to
pick up the pieces
together.
Jigsaw puzzle of happiness (12.28)
Day 1
an overspill of happiness on a writing paper
day 2
happiness is thoughts inlaid in a pearl
day 3
happiness is promised, realized and satisfied
day 4
petals of happiness start to grow in soft sunlight, blooming into a smiley face
day 5
happiness is practising brilliance
day 6
happiness is colored like rainbow, shining with unlimited hope.
Day 1
an overspill of happiness on a writing paper
day 2
happiness is thoughts inlaid in a pearl
day 3
happiness is promised, realized and satisfied
day 4
petals of happiness start to grow in soft sunlight, blooming into a smiley face
day 5
happiness is practising brilliance
day 6
happiness is colored like rainbow, shining with unlimited hope.
(12.28)
Near and far
crystals
falling on eaves
and windows
superimposed on the mountain
the city is quiet
like the fields in the countryside
crystals
falling on eaves
and windows
superimposed on the mountain
the city is quiet
like the fields in the countryside
(12.29)
Sending away the last star
and the bow of moon
morning stretching
in tranquility
the mist transforms into
drops of dew
awakening flowers
the song of aerobics
the whistle of a grasshopper
the silver light of morning
flipping through the pages of a book
crossing worlds of fantasy
and the bow of moon
morning stretching
in tranquility
the mist transforms into
drops of dew
awakening flowers
the song of aerobics
the whistle of a grasshopper
the silver light of morning
flipping through the pages of a book
crossing worlds of fantasy
(12.31)
2015 will soon become
a past
in the air
there are maple leaves
flying
snowflakes hovering
the pendulum
ticking
footsteps of time
walking
into the blessed
new year
where every day
has the wings of
dream
the joy
of harvest.
Sky and ocean (12.31)
On the horizon
there's a white ribbon
closer
and closer
turning into a silver curtain
spreading
as if it's about to swallow up
the whole world
Starlight (12.31)
The distant streetlamps are lit
twnkling
like beautiful starlight
padestrians in the street
walking hurriedly
like meteors
across the sky
walking silently
enjoying the sea breeze
along a curved road
through the thickening night
into the distance.
Sun (1.13)
Autumn (2.2)
Bicycling (3.3)
Shanghai lady (5.16)
A pretty woman
from China
holding the ruddy
oil-paper umbrella
just like her temperament
beautifulness within her shyness
a flower blooming
in the misty rain
a ground color of
that literary era
stunning
charming
like a love story covered with
dust
appealing
in a shower of
houselights.
(7.20)
Night falling
into silence
the sky after rain
a face gloomy
and sad
covering blinking eyes
like a theater ending
curtian pulled down
the noise of voices
vibrant in the night
awakening insomniacs
from their sleep
leading dreamers
to their
dreams.
Tonight's sky (7.28)
The starry sky
of nothingness
heavy darkness
infiltrating
skyline
revealing
glimmer of hope
dim
dazzling
again and again
vast sky
like the sea
intermittent waves
sweeping
galloping
suffusing
shiny shadows
wanton burning
all extinguished by
lifeless ink.
Wind of July (8.2)
The wind of July
landing
clear as crystal
light as ribbon
light as dream
immersed in such clearness
reveling in gentleness
on a weekend
under the willow
i'm hypnotized
by the wind of July
the wind of July
is a dream
the beautiful wreath
in a dream
where the bellflowers jingle
where affection is
boundless
the wind of July
knitting
memory
i won't
forget.
Rainy Season (11.4)
The rainy season is beautiful
beautiful
rainbow, wind and moon
poetry, butterflies and you
beautiful
ineffable
in a painting
in a story
No falling leaves in the painting
there's no separation in the story
only the thrills you give me
and warmth
and such a season
no bitter tears
we promise to make our vow
eternal
there's you
in this rainy season
turning reality into fairy tale
in this rain season where
there's you
fairy tale becomes reality
the rainy season is beautiful
beautiful
i forgot everything
everything
but loving you.
Take a break (11.8)
A pot of tea
a past
in the air
there are maple leaves
flying
snowflakes hovering
the pendulum
ticking
footsteps of time
walking
into the blessed
new year
where every day
has the wings of
dream
the joy
of harvest.
Sky and ocean (12.31)
On the horizon
there's a white ribbon
closer
and closer
turning into a silver curtain
spreading
as if it's about to swallow up
the whole world
Starlight (12.31)
The distant streetlamps are lit
twnkling
like beautiful starlight
padestrians in the street
walking hurriedly
like meteors
across the sky
walking silently
enjoying the sea breeze
along a curved road
through the thickening night
into the distance.
Sun (1.13)
The wind of spring,
blowing gently,
melting the sun,
sending forth,
warmth,
wind of summer,
blowing fierily,
igniting the sun,
baking,
the earth,
wind of autumn,
swishing and whizzing,
quenching the fire,
of the sun,
wind of winter,
whistling and howling,
glaciating the sun,
freezing,
the warmth.
Autumn (2.2)
Passing through the season,
pacing,
the seceneries,
eye-capturing,
scenes of changes,
footprints of time,
segments of whispers,
crooning and singing,
replayed,
happy laughter filling,
the ravine of the season.
Static (2.5)
Dark clouds came early,
brightness apparently,
illogical,
the wind came in,
decomposed by the space,
sides of the teapot and cups,
cooled,
in a corner of the table,
shadows gradually,
slowing down,
furniture and books,
revealing their dark side,
heavy rain,
outside the window,
til dusk,
and afterwards,
everything was calm,
sitting at the window,
reading a book,
quiet as the cactus on the desk,
out there,
leaves sitting on branches,
having a good time,
time’s getting shorter,
watching,
lights falling from sky,
silently,
a beautiful world,
reflected,
in the eyes.
Riding a bicycle
chasing the aquamarine
sky
speeding together
with a bunch of friends
stretching the day
finding a shortcut
using the handlebar
striving after time
ringing the bike bell
as she gently turned around,
that's when she
turned my frown
upside down.
Shanghai lady (5.16)
A pretty woman
from China
holding the ruddy
oil-paper umbrella
just like her temperament
beautifulness within her shyness
a flower blooming
in the misty rain
a ground color of
that literary era
stunning
charming
like a love story covered with
dust
appealing
in a shower of
houselights.
(7.20)
Night falling
into silence
the sky after rain
a face gloomy
and sad
covering blinking eyes
like a theater ending
curtian pulled down
the noise of voices
vibrant in the night
awakening insomniacs
from their sleep
leading dreamers
to their
dreams.
Tonight's sky (7.28)
The starry sky
of nothingness
heavy darkness
infiltrating
skyline
revealing
glimmer of hope
dim
dazzling
again and again
vast sky
like the sea
intermittent waves
sweeping
galloping
suffusing
shiny shadows
wanton burning
all extinguished by
lifeless ink.
Wind of July (8.2)
The wind of July
landing
clear as crystal
light as ribbon
light as dream
immersed in such clearness
reveling in gentleness
on a weekend
under the willow
i'm hypnotized
by the wind of July
the wind of July
is a dream
the beautiful wreath
in a dream
where the bellflowers jingle
where affection is
boundless
the wind of July
knitting
memory
i won't
forget.
Rainy Season (11.4)
The rainy season is beautiful
beautiful
rainbow, wind and moon
poetry, butterflies and you
beautiful
ineffable
in a painting
in a story
No falling leaves in the painting
there's no separation in the story
only the thrills you give me
and warmth
and such a season
no bitter tears
we promise to make our vow
eternal
there's you
in this rainy season
turning reality into fairy tale
in this rain season where
there's you
fairy tale becomes reality
the rainy season is beautiful
beautiful
i forgot everything
everything
but loving you.
Take a break (11.8)
A pot of tea
a piece of music
let thoughts float in serenity
give the soul some time off
don't think
don't answer
don't get distracted by superficialities
let the mind dialogue
with the world
independently
like water
that washes away dirt
let the worries and chaos in the mind
go
let the soul take a break
go on trip with the rising
vapor of tea.
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