Chapter 4 4

In the light of dawn, in the Before the head-on attack, the birds regained their memory singing beautiful partner In the light of dawn, in the Before the head on, the sheep have a chance sneak out of the dirty sheep pen someone in the light of dawn Speak: "The fire is going out, it's a little cold And the sun is about to rise" and before the sun rises The wind blows in the dark woods, it is Dream, this is the cup of night rain This is the only way for God Whether he has passed or not, he has not another way to life Towards the dark joyful lamp beyond the wilderness

The wine cellar of the cruel king, the desolate sea before the sun rises It's dawn over the fence Yes, it is the dawn that makes all things tall And where is the new disaster? Here are meteors wrecking houses Here shadows crush flowers, and the boundless silence is a gift of fate Here's a boy after a wet dream Rising from the haystack, in the light of dawn before being hit head-on Clouds hovering over forest trees in the mountains With the color of summer cornflowers Clouds drifting over the bazaar Cover your undulating homeland with shadows— You've never seen so many people at the fair

They are like black flowers (I gotta use a spell to break a spell, a love to inspire love) They can't hide you in a sorghum field So they let you find "happiness" yourself Mother, is your green cloth gown compatible with About the blue sky?between mat and mat I can picture your little red face How strong is that storyteller's accent Those cheerful episodes make you forgetfully excited And when you see a black mountain with its dangerous head held high press to the fair, how you panic 'cause you see everyone panicking mother what did you say to yourself then

How did the flooded Dawen River swallow up that back alley? The silver-gray track of the snail? what about a man with an empty purse Lost his purse, which will always be empty? Tell me, Mother, how an ocean can replace Black dirt?The south wind that carries the cold rain When the light is extinguished, a pair of eyes are useless Tell me the seven days and seven nights when the land collapsed that day What did you bring?What changed? The fitter men who fell overboard will float like a log An iron door that accommodates death Must close behind the last man overboard You become so light that you can't bend a branch

Fate on a slender branch like an apricot blossom in the night of disaster When you meet your naked self in the rain Mother, what did you say to yourself then? All the panic is comforted by yourself All fearful questions are answered by yourself people who are familiar with all kinds of destinies there is a fate familiar with him You see the flood in the catastrophe of life Seeing shooting stars, seeing the old man squeezing out cigarette butts on the wall Carried to another land by a desperate cry the boy who got you to the high ground Is it my spiritual father? now you talk about yourself

Mother, what did you say to yourself then? A huge sinking wooden boat goes down the river A house storing literacy textbooks flows down the river With cries and cries, seven days and seven nights Downstream, I'm waking up in your cells Lustful ants outside sniff the white traces of the water From the south wind you catch a true seed Mother, what did you say to yourself then? In the form of dreams, in the form of dynasties Time passes through my body.time like a box of matches sometimes all of a sudden it burns I clearly see a great river with no beginning and no end One lamp after another, illuminating those shadowy riverside cities

I came into this world for some reason Whose hands and feet are my hands and feet based on? A bird landed on top of my head thinking I was a rock If I swung it away, it fell to Whose head, and look back to watch my whereabouts? One lamp after another, illuminating those shadowy riverside cities Some gossip is buried in the whistling of the night reproduce.reproduce.The family tree is continued The chains of life are rattling who will finally be silent as its end I see my wrinkled old father Gradually integrate with the country It's hard to say I'm not him: a cautious character

Keep him safe throughout his life: hard to say He is not busy making a living instead of me, humiliating He rarely talked about my grandfather.I only vaguely remember An old man mixes expensive sesame oil in tobacco In the distant summer, an old man is haunted by the past Going back 300 years, a few men were drinking Going back 3,000 years, a family of several people was farming From a drop of water in the sea to a small village in Shandong From a thin product in Jiangsu to my desk lamp tonight So many people are alive: illiterate, talented Bandits, small business owners... what kind of marriage

Handed down to me, did I wander the palace of the Han Dynasty? A night of swords.trafficking night Even death could not stop the panting dawn I invented the names of many ancestors, calling each one Some voice could always be heard answering; but I I can't see them like I can't see my own face A sudden blackout convinced me i live in a developing country A country where people read books by moonlight A country that abolished the imperial examinations Sudden power outage made me hear The sound of wind chimes upstairs.cat footsteps The motor that rotates in the distance stops abruptly

The battery radio beside me is still singing As long as there is a power outage, time will quickly turn back: Candles are lit in the small restaurant The fat man who devoured the crow found The crows on the tree are gathering more and more And it's pitch black more like a womb surging with sea water A mother hangs herself from a beam Every room has its own special smell Power outage, I found a slipper But I muttered: "Matches, don't hide them!" In candlelight, I see myself Huge, wordless shadows cast on the wall ——to Anne This precise statement comes from the whole messy past

This pure power is like the rhythm of a faucet dripping water Annotate the lack of history I left the night to the earth for touching the stars The night licks the cracks of the earth: the bifurcated memory Nobody is a person, Nowhere is a place a no one writes this in nowhere verses that I need to identify in the shadows I give up looking for the author in the world, look up and see A librarian, idly, just for a living while maintaining the order of the books and the universe