"There must be injustice and sadness in the world, but through verse, grievance and sadness can be converted." "Chiang Hsun once said so. Reading poetry is like a process of digestion of sadness, for life to leave some monologue, every week this time, I long for you to leave a time for yourself, parting from the reality of the turmoil, the woman fans only read poems for you.
This time I left you and I don't want to see you anymore.
In the meantime you have fallen asleep quietly.
Leave us unfinished, left to the world,
The world, I still tread,
It's your dream.
--Excerpts from "Fu-not" Zheng Sorrow
In the name of poetry 〉〉 turn to need to be resolute and gentle
Image source: Pinterest/tiffany Gunning
Life
is neither perfect
It's not a flaw.
But it was a heavy test.
To continue to
Use Faith to banish hopelessness
To compensate for loneliness with love
--Chiang Hsun, blessings
In the name of the poem 〉〉 may you be safe
Image source: Mély
Someday I'll Miss you
And I'll miss the moment
A little strange, a little hesitant
And all the things I didn't say to you
Has roots in the tree chassis
Become another forest
One day I'll Love you summer
〉〉 miss the moment in the name of poetry
Photo Source: Pinterest Lotte van der Aart
The summer hydrangea, there are thousands of species of blue, thousands of purple
Coastal Highway clouds, there are thousands of stubborn, thousands of species Mei
The sail passed 100, and then
The lighthouse has been lit for 100 nights.
The sound of Thunder and lightning has thousand rings
Layers of waves, and the sound of all kinds of heart sounds to the shore
Stranger, in this town of the sea
You wave, there are thousands of species
And I have only one love
--Hydrangea flower Chen Yiwen
In the name of poetry 〉〉 follow the spray of summer to travel
Image source: Pinterest/sol Iametti
There must be something.
Is what I can't understand.
Otherwise, how can the vegetation
Sequential growth
and migratory birds can fly back to their homeland.
There must be something.
There's nothing I can do about it.
Or how the day and night alternate.
So fast all the time
I've missed the sadness
There must be something behind the fallen leaves.
is what I have to give up.
It's the diary at age 16.
I've been hiding it for a lifetime.
Those beautiful like the lilies of the mountain
Secret
--"As the song of the row Board", HSI
〉〉 The secrets of youth in the name of poetry , one day we will know
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