Sihai network

Four Qingming Poems (group of poems)

1、 Cold and pain

About cool, no longer tears

Touch the wooden photo frame

Tears are broken and the tip of the nose is cold & hellip& hellip;

A sandalwood comb in memory

Was forgotten by the years

Stay in mind

Unprecedented pain

They are filtering my brain & hellip& hellip;

2、 Night, warm dream

Turn it off at ten o'clock every night

At that moment, no longer afraid of the warmth of dreams

If you're thinking about me

It must be the moment when you raise your hand and turn off the light

Just a sudden moment of light balderdash

Then the light went out

3、 Qingming Festival

Shadow of lower eyelashes

Time is a broken kiss

Paper horses are more or less residual incense ashes

In the rain free Qingming

The lilacs in front of the grave are in full bloom

The wildest intoxication in Poetry

One by one inlaid into the strongest gap on the stone tablet

Countless memories of that night

Xijiang moon

With the spring red in the flower stream

From the oozing blood on the lips

Sing slowly

With a flower like sadness

Like wild grass

With dark eyes

for you

I have kept countless Qingming

Acacia falling soil

Flowers bloom like awns

4、 Please tell me, what is poetry

There is a feeling that grows like a wild grass

It has nothing to do with words

All the descriptions are weak

Then, where the tracks continue

Every year there will be a beam of Buddha's light

The man who regards poetry as a dream has long died

For the lost light

All latecomers are grafted as rapists

Hope the wild grass can bear fruit like the sun

But the axe, in the arc of the air

Rust off the last pin that can reflect

So please tell me what poetry is

So, not legends and miracles

So, not dew and butterfly wings

Something that can be called poetry

At the turn of night and dawn

Sing from the breath of the grave

Poetry tells me that she is

Death & hellip& hellip;