In Goya's paintings, they give the artist Brings nightmares.they fly up and down Left and right; they whisper but never wake up the artist Unspeakable happiness floats in them on human faces.these birdlike instead of bird creatures, all black Combined with darkness, like a seed that never blooms hopeless spirit Blind, murderous, guided by will sometimes hanging upside down on the branches Like pieces of dead leaves, it is pitiful And in other stories, they are shelter in damp caves When the sun goes down, it's their time to go Feed, give birth, then disappear They'll force a sleepwalker into the fold

They'll snatch the torch from his hand and extinguish it They will also chase away an invading wolf Let it fall down the valley, there's nothing to say At night, if a child stays up late It must be because of a braid escaped the sore eyes of the night watchman Come near and tell him fate One, two, three weaving No property, no home, how can one give bring well-being?The waxing and waning of the moon faded their feathers; they are ugly and nameless Their hearts of stone never fascinated me until one summer evening When I passed by the old residence, I saw a group of children playing

see more bats tumbling over their heads The sunset casts shadows in the alley Gilded those bats too They fly outside the paint-peeling street door silent about fate in old things a bat It is a nostalgia.their leisurely attitude keep me, keep me long In that city, in the alley where I grew up The twelve swans shining on the lake no shadow The twelve swans clinging to each other inaccessible Twelve swans—twelve instruments— when they chirp when they flap their silvery wings the air wraps their huge bodies lifting An age draws aside, with its ridicule Think about it, me and twelve swans

Live in the same city! The twelve swans shining on the lake heart-pounding Among the teals they keep pure animality water is their fields foam is their jewel Once we dreamed of the twelve swans their haughty necks bent into the water What keeps them from sinking? Is it flippers? with feathers They retrieve lost amulets again and again The lake is vast, the sky is high: poetry is redundant I want to see ninety-nine swans Born in the moonlight! You must turn into a swan to follow Behind them— Navigate by constellation or from the leaves of lotus and water hyacinth suck the night

in a vast country The twilight is also vast The lights come on one by one Twilight spreads like autumn all shut up O dead, come forth For the twilight is a dream— silence gained purity i remembered some names every name signifies an experience like no other They make heaven and hell And twilight spreads across the land I reach out and someone takes it Whenever twilight falls there are people knock gently on my door There's a mystery you can't handle You can only act as a bystander Let the mysterious power signal from afar Let the light shine through your heart like tonight, in Hargay

In this desolate place far from the city place, on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau Next to a railway station the size of a broad bean I look up at the stars This pair of galaxies is silent, the wings of birds are thin The grass grows wildly to the stars). The horses forgot to fly The wind blows the empty night and blows me The wind blows the future and the past I become someone, someone Shabby room with oil lamps And the cold roof of this hut Stepped into an altar by the billions of feet of the stars I'm like a child receiving communion Bold up, but hold your breath