I have tears for others, but don't want wept for myself; I did not make myself Fit for this world, and there is no beautiful The self-created land has no choice but to live forever Desire: to live for; to be in hope Died, finally admitted not knowing Life; received it and squandered it, Just a tool of history, on the long road a grain of sand, so desperately to get rid of The shadow, and they mocked me for it; This is the choice of loneliness, lively loneliness, Lie to yourself with laughter, float in vulgarity In the swirl of life, and gradually, I say, I'm a philistine, and I cry involuntarily.

Only I, who can appreciate the human footsteps, The endless rush like time, Asked where they were going and said it was just ahead, And there is no place where the hesitation of steps is not heard. To be blind may be a kind of happiness; Walk without fear in emptiness and darkness; Only me, nothing can tempt me, Measure the scale of this empty world. dark!The world has only one face. But some people cried bitterly for this face! Only I, who can appreciate the wisdom of the stick, Step by step, I knocked out slices of paradise for me. Only I, living forever in his favor: Darkness is my light and my way.

Prices have become the favorites of the Anti-Japanese War. Once upon a time, like me, I walked on my legs, Now there are not only cars, but also airplanes, Also met many important people, rich people, They all lift him up, embrace him, lift him up, His body was as light as ashes, fly.But I have to catch up with him, not to be left behind, The Anti-Japanese War is a great era, and we cannot be left behind. Although I have lost my warm home, Throw away the good clothes and thick clothes, throw away the beloved books, And throw away the tender flesh of his wife and children, But I'm still too heavy, too heavy to walk,

Let prices be in newspapers, in display windows, The statistician's pen, laugh at me casually. Ah, I can't, I still have too much meat, And vegetables' wives and children, who also have meat, And heavily patched rags, too heavy, These should all be thrown away.For the war of resistance, In order to resist the war, we should not fall behind, Look at the price of other people's prices, hurry up and catch up, Even death as light as a feather, Don't worry about it, just don't fall behind. 1945 give me a tomb black bun-like tomb, Flat ones are fine too, like a small vegetable garden,

Or like a heap of dung, It's okay, it's okay, As long as there is a tomb, as long as it is not exposed like a pile of ox bones, Because I'm afraid of dogs, I have been afraid of dogs since I was a child. I am ticklish, most ticklish My mother knows best, I'm afraid the dog will lick me, I licked my whole body and got pimples, red eyes, want to cry; I'm afraid of watching dogs fight, That sound is terrible, Especially fighting over a bone, The sharp white teeth are terrible, If it is a dragging meat, One pulls the bone, Blood flows like tears in the middle,

Then I'll faint immediately; I am afraid of the wilderness, A field of only wind and grass, Beasts prowl for food: They are not afraid of blood, They all laughed strangely, Especially if blood is drunk; They also chew bones, with sharper teeth, a greater threat than dogs; I'm afraid of blackbirds, The bird as big as a cock, Except in the night the trees are scary, And their chisels are cleverly pointed... I'm afraid, I'm afraid, the wind ran away, The fallen leaves also ran away, and the dust fled, The trees are shaking their heads and struggling, and run away,

Ah, give me a tomb, Just a few pieces of soil, Just a few grains of soil. Everything is a mirror, is water, Your image is right in front of you. Don't get entangled in the vision of the eyes. The depths of the soul will ache for it, bleed; the high places of the mind will Spread dark clouds to block the sunshine of happiness. Then there would be a melancholy— Without direction and hope, There is no up and down, the roar of memory strung together endless noise... So everything is chaotic. Life withers in chaos, its own Images become poison, stained with melancholy, Dyed gray, gradually moldy, smelly...

However, those who can see the ugly face in the mirror may as well Shrugged, sneered, and said to the world: "Blessed are those who can forget themselves." Then Muddy the water, broke the mirror. 1942 He had read enough books, help him discover dissatisfaction; Having spent enough of my father's money, make him obsessed with material enjoyment Don't forget, I also participated in the parade, burn off a thin layer of enthusiasm, Make him say "calm" to the revolution. Later he was baptized by Freud, Never forget the "inferiority mentality" towards others and yourself;

Watched Hollywood "psychoanalysis" again Films, surreptitiously studied cynicism, Have great confidence in your posture, Mocking him becomes encouragement, advice is folly, Pity him only invites more anti-pity. Mother gave him enough cleverness again Decorate as a "genius" and always look at himself in pity; Blaming the wrong "class" and "time" made him unlucky, He also speaks a set of words in such a way that people can't figure it out, His only skill is to complain, Conversations filled with wronged punctuation, Many also praised him as "very personable".

1948 Even the dove whistle has a mature tone, Gone, the noisy summer with showers. Think no more of that severe sweltering ordeal, Detailed recall in Dangerous Swimming. Through the broken ground of spring buds, twisted and wounded in the growth of young shoots, These branches have also been wild in the hot sun, Almost got lost in the rainy night. Now, the plain sky is cloudless, The mountains and rivers are clear and clear, and the vision is particularly wide; The season when both wisdom and emotion are mature, The river water also seems to come from a deeper source. The turbulent air is fermented,

Brew in the valley the clear wine; What is the first wave of autumn?intoxicating fragrance The autumn flowers and autumn leaves have been deeply dyed. Street trees also use red color to suggest something, The wheels of the bicycle gleamed with vigor; The long arm of the tower crane points to the distance at high altitude, Qiuyang scanned the harvest information on it. Autumn 1979 I suddenly found out tonight Trees have another beauty: it holds up for me blue pure sky; Among the messy leaves and leaves, Competing for the growth of Linglong Xingzi, The bare branches of fallen leaves pick up The roundest and roundest golden moon. The leaves flutter down, Like faces from afar, As soon as it reaches the ground, it sends out "kill", I just heard the whispering wind. The wind comes from a distant village, with rustic shyness; The dog has a cold, the man hates so much, The afternoon group hugged each other and trembled. Two humorous blackbirds, keep snoring like others, Suddenly he laughed again, Fly into the misty mountains. how many enthusiastic bugs Thought I was a bosom friend, Play all the new songs, It makes me sad to be pessimistic. The night is deep, the heart is deep, After all, the depths are colder, A lot of pressure, my heart hurts, Want to become a rooster and crow a few times. 1944 India from the plain, and had to abandon the plain, Rooted in the earth, but want to be rooted in Yunhan; Sublimation of the vast plain, its dreamy image, Everyone is proud of him, but he is always dissatisfied. What he longs for is the lofty and ever-changing sky, The sun with endless light and heat, the learned and reserved moon, The smiling stars, the wind with the most vitality, Wear a snow hat to enjoy the peace of the still winter. Also like some flowing water with musical genius, Hang a waterfall and sing melodious and simple folk songs; Or a lonely ancient temple, attracting faithful men and women to kneel down, There are evening drums and morning bells monotonously speaking of a certain hunger, Or some eccentric hermit, envious of him, following him, Appreciate the ups and downs of the sea of ​​people, but can only be lonely Life, at night, dreaming of flowing water and dreaming, Back to the only sweet childhood memory on the plain. He pursues, so he is not satisfied, so he pursues even more: He has no peach blossoms, no cattle and sheep, no smoke, no villages; A bird's-eye view, more air, and more stone; Because he had to leave what he needed, he was forever lonely. 1945