Chapter 5 5

Facing the wind, my hand catches an old photo There's a face in the picture that I hate I don't know if he is still alive Facing the wind, my hand catches a piece of crumpled paper dirty language written all over it I can't repeat a word My hand is facing the wind, and a medical record is handed to me A medical record does not fill in the name hit my health My hand is against the wind, but I refuse to accept it any confidentiality.But a note makes me panic I'm on the verge of becoming a telltale The wind, great force, my hand meets it My hands have cut the wheat and caught the bad guys

When I withdraw my hand, the great power disappears I retract and extend my hand The wind blows my hand like Xinjiang and Mongolia Great power is what I desire I put my hand against the wind, testing the wind and myself but caught a blind firecracker explode in my thirsty hands AD 1609 The world I live in Hold tight to this fire! for you to exist forever Don't resist change, wish me success! I want to refine the mountains and seas into an ingot of gold Wind and rain will not deform Let God walk on it and marvel at my art Make those stingy angels jealous too Removal of garbage depends on a fire

I melted everything and let loneliness punish me Great rivers pouring mercury The villages are full of poppies Ore all over the land is prepared for me, my labor Rescue from the depravity of the human heart that God has taken for granted Gold is not madness nor praise Gold is static, is the end of both final stillness No respiration, no photosynthesis stillness ultimate glory no dancing, no singing splendor Let time collapse without decay let perfection triumph without profanity Let the night be like a dense love bird Surround my little lamp on the window sill Strange material returns to elements

My heart that rejects fate returns to the spirit The wind outside the window is roaring like a spirit My immature art is like a fire flickering Always just a little bit, always short of success Come on, the role model that appeared in my dream last night homer and dante with fluttering robes I extract hydrogen from water and let it burn I extract truth from worldly prejudices and let it burn burning, from bright colors Burning, a dream that heats up with fire The ultimate stillness is the ultimate reward until gold declares eternity until pure death returns to god Moved him for the first time!

1989 Your deep kindness and great love tolerated it So much sun and rain; so much misery be turned into a song by you Countless autumns point to tonight I finally fell in love with the fading before my eyes street and pine forest Between the two great rivers, where you once rested country inn, i finally heard One voice: majestic, strong and steady Like a thriving peony blooming late in Chang'an in a dark age you are the only soul Beautiful mountains and rivers must be trusted Your leanness, this perishable civilization must be touched by you and saved you have almost stupid courage

Listen to the inner candlelight you never even heard of keats and yeats The autumn wind blows the bright moon on the top of the mountain Crow, break open your door The emperor's chariots gallop past Followed by hunger and bandits But great art is not a sword it's good, it tends to be pure Tens of thousands of mansions cover the horizon You built them to remember those Women and men on the road And salvation is futile, you know better than we do The future is just the past The so-called hope is nothing but fate 1989 midnight piano Good thing I can feel, good thing I can hear

A midnight piano piece revives a spirit A person is approaching me in the shadows A person without a body cannot be blocked but he has the ability to polish lamps and utensils I'm ashamed to see my hands dirty The ice of sleep makes a crackling sound For a moment the scorching rhododendrons bloom all over the earth A person approached me, I had no time to avoid It's like I can't escape my youth in time In the midnight piano, I lick Chapped lips, awakened to the inevitability of life But a piano piece at midnight is like me Happiness that cannot be grasped, why is it so long

What do I grab, what spoils? I still remember the many raucous song and dance scenes And tonight's piano music is not accompanied by anyone it's mysterious, sad, talking to itself The wind outside the window dies down, there must be an eagle Flying close to the snow-covered mountain, there must be a peacock Inspired by dreams, unfurling under the stars And I stand like a sunflower in the middle of midnight Ask myself who will take my heavy life A person approached me, we seem to have known each other We face each other and recognize each other I heard someone applauding in the distance

A midnight piano piece to silence By the way, it's like this: a person approached me He hesitated for a moment, then hesitated to speak retreated into the boundless shadow of which he belonged 1994 A man grows old, between glances and words, Between cucumbers and tea leaves, Like smoke rises, like water falls.Darkness looms. In the dark, white hair, lost teeth. Like an anecdote of old times, Like a supporting role in an opera.A person is old. The curtain of autumn is falling heavily! ? Dew is cool.The music goes its own way. He saw the straggling geese, the dying fire, mediocrity, static machines, unfinished portraits,

When young lovers go away and a man grows old, Asuka averted his gaze. He has enough experience to judge good and evil, But chances are dwindling, like sand Slide down the wide fingers while the door closes. A youth lives in his body; He speaks as a spirit possessed, The pedestrians he caught were straws. Some build houses, some embroider, and some gamble. The wind of life blows out the spirit of the world, Only old people can see the devastation in this. A man is old and wanders in Old Street.Occasionally stop, Then there are fallen leaves floating to cover him. More voices squeezed into the ears,

As if his whole body would squeeze into a little wooden box; That's the end of a series of games: Hide success, hide failure. On the beam, in the hollow of the tree, he has hidden A piece of paper filled with love and pain. It is impossible for him to harvest It is impossible for him to escape A person grows old and returns to childhood Then die like an animal.his bones Hard enough to stand up to history Let future generations engrave the proverbs that do not belong to him. 1991.4