evening sky after the rain, Quiet as the shawl on the shoulders of a praying woman; The blueness of leaves is a flowing sea, The hot body bathes there. We sheltered from the rain under the locust tree, Sitting and watching the clouds after the rain, Watch the evening recede, watch the night march, Look at the first star in the treetops. something sleeps in time, With imaginary sorrow? What often flies away from the years, What else is flying quietly? Hand in hand, heart to heart, The brook silently listens to us; When a frog hops in the grass, I seem to see the earth blinking.

1946 singer full of voice Concentrate on a momentary tremor dancer for a pose The breath of a lifetime The clouds in the sky, the ocean on the ground before the big storm comes with eerie silence The fusion of passions of all mankind waiting in agony a common dawn 1947 I often stop at a passing wind i tend to get lost in a bell by chance cloudless blue sky also caused me to feel sad I drink the same blueberry from a grass or a pine waiting ship wings to be shaken Arrows, on the strings of confusion buried your gallop fire night There is a shadow of fleeing in front of familiar things

suddenly feel strange the universe and us categorically divided 1946 Pearl in the clam, it has an expectation It knows that the highest happiness is Giving, not burying bitterly Many days of sunshine, many nights of moonlight There are also occasional storms and huge waves It has already accepted all this In its growth, becomes its all.in the clamshell it listens to footsteps from all directions Some hurried, some hesitated those footsteps passed by, it tightened its grip light, not shining at the right time However it has an expectation It knows which direction the bead seeker is coming from

With what sincerity and longing come to it; then it will reveal The secret gauze, solemnly to life Unfold and plunge into a whole new world. 1948 When the weeds are quietly turning green, A message is whispered across the universe— What lurks in the shadows? what fire, what light, What trembling hands? Oh don't ask; don't ask the way How strange, don't remember behind your back How many vipers of memory squirm, Joy and sorrow, hope and disappointment... Stepping over the crumbling walls, Let the dead century dream sleep deeply. When the weeds are quietly turning green,

A message is whispered across the universe— The frame of time can't stop us, Didn't the desolate ancient times already exist Ever had that first light of light? Brutal civilization, with hypocrisy and intrigue, To torture primitive humanity, let us first is ourselves, every metamorphosis Each has a different start and finish. When the weeds are quietly turning green, A message is whispered across the universe— An infinite number of lines emanating from a single point. A point, a small origin, It leads to infinitely larger circles. Oh, can't let cunning lies cheat us!let's go

In every morning that forsakes the night. 1948 The fire dies in the ashes, Whose finger knocked off Lengmeng? There was still a peck at the little door. Listen to the sound of the clock and answer, let’s be a train for now, I have a long journey under my pillow long solitude. Come in, you ghost of the night, You may be a cat, a beetle, Come and knock on my lonely door every night. All gone: the peck on the door, The wind on the roof.I love the landscape in this dream; Who, tap again in my dream... if you come; on a lukewarm night, come softly, knock on my lonely door and window;

if you come, without saying a word, on your trembling shoulders, Lean against a white wall. From my pensive chair I shall stand up quietly find it in the pages a withered flower Put it on your skirt. I will give you a silence too, a deepest gaze; And when you walk away again, I shall weep— because of happiness, Not sad. You have a gurgling river Pour life into lifeless soil, How much light, shadow, sound, color, Finally condensed, You knocked away the dream soul of the millennium; Let the images each have a seat: The gentleness of a beautiful woman, the strength of a tiger,

The silent complaint between the brows of the victims, The wisdom of the prophet Ripples all around. Sometimes everything follows you in one pose stop suddenly; under your axe, Space shrinks, time hesitates, And you will always keep the original simplicity. 1947 Yes, we should close our eyes, Do not ask what is not allowed to ask right and wrong; We know our job is to endure In the end; we have to be willing give up everything we have, Together with a pile of bones after being hacked. When the ruthless sword and ax try to cut all the grass roots that will sprout, Poor man, you are still infatuated

Want to irrigate the cursed freedom! The earth is best at hiding dirt, But can't tolerate a stubborn seed, Though the truth pleads bitterly. You rage, argue, gnash your teeth— That's what you deserve, and you've got to live through it all: The violent wind and rain, the cruel sun... 1948 "You never get tired of looking at two things, only Jingting Mountain" - Li Bai goofy no wings voyage no sail Outside the small courtyard an ancient locust tree day and night Jingting Mountain but there is sea water day and night turned up in the heart raging waves invisible sea

it has no shore no matter morning or evening same deep same blue same sea same mountain you have your arrogance i have my dark blue In the bustling port, ships and ships carrying different groups of people, sail separately; People pass by indifferently on the street, Indifferently kicking up the dust, Let the voices merge into a clamor, people come and go, Clinging to their own destiny. But on the stormy sea, Ships and ships beckon kindly, when they meet by chance; And desolate mountains or isolated islands, people's ears anxiously Waiting for strange words. 1945 Just the ordinary in the ordinary,

Like a blue sky without iridescence, How much is hidden in that deep silence, It will forever deeply cover all phenomena of the universe. From the beginning of Hongmeng to our century of wind and cloud, (Hey, don’t mention it!) History can’t turn over piles of sludge; Want to learn from the primitive giants, with a plow and hoe, Dig deep into the heart of this civilization. When all the veneer peels off, Truth will be heard crying in secret. Storms and storms, for a brief hour, Donate everything to clear the clouds. 1947 How many cold winters and long nights, The unknown spring is locked in the rock, The wind of the wilderness, whirling Clouds, congealed into blood and flesh, Waiting, waiting on and on... What is calling you finally Arise, leap out of the firm silence, Fanned the long-buried flame? all voices trembling Quiet, all listening intently— Life, your first and last language. Primal enthusiasm stops here Sigh, thirsty lips are here for the first time close together; when the desire to grow Through the rain, through the fog, with the sun Woke up, the wind did not dare to disturb, and the clouds also avoided. O majestic creation of the universe, would have Not with reserve, but with love. 1948