Selected poems of Zhang CuO

Cut the cabbage completely again,

Living in the mountains,

It's so clear and unknown,

Rough tea and light rice.

The days are silent,

So these words seem clumsy,

The house on the hill was abandoned.

So etiquette is ignored.

Cold mountains,

Open the window in the morning,

There is snow, Jia.

When dusk passes, dusk hides the sunset.

It's okay.

It's just that whenever it rains all night,

There is always a pile of spring leeks missing.

Or someone who hasn't heard from you for a long time,

An old friend who dropped in by chance.

After staying away from gains and losses,

After a long time, Shanju has become an ordinary person.

Not moved by Kenzaburo Oe,

Or empress dowager cixi,

But apathy still often carries a worry,

Island countries in the distance-

Is Maple Leaf still drunk?

Is sake still hot?

Do you still have lofty sentiments?

Is the style still there? It is said that all shortcomings come from the pursuit of perfection.

Like the morning sun, scattered all over the floor.

Through the dense bamboo forest and Chinese fir,

Pour your heart into the moss-covered rocks,

It seems that there are some dewdrops floating vaguely into the night.

Attached to the residual exhortation and breath,

You set foot on the road of childhood with one foot high and one foot low,

Suddenly, a mountain fog came inexplicably.

You turned your head in ecstasy,

It's like saying to someone,

It seems that only someone will understand what you are going to say-

That's a little beautiful!

But nobody's here,

Because what you can get is often unwanted,

What you want is often not what you want.

Those regrets!

Like a tree full of mountains,

There are bronze bells everywhere,

In the cool and mysterious mountain breeze,

Suddenly there was a frog cry,

You get carried away, stop,

As if to say to someone-"listen! 」

Like all secrets in the world,

It should be shared by two people.

So defects are local perfection.

Still like the incompleteness in a complete life,

Like drinking spring tea that night,

After a long sleepless night, there seems to be a voice,

Constantly turned around and asked:

Why don't you and I belong to ancient China?

Why do we bid so high?

Why is the whirlpool of life so clever?

Those who leave will eventually come back,

Those who leave will meet again,

Sooner or later, something will be said,

Leaving evidence of the beauty of deformity,

Poetic lingering,

Fictional magic. We are in the spring house,

Drinking green tea and listening to guqin,

Looking at the running water and fallen flowers outside,

Spring is coming,

We started talking about life,

And all kinds of confusion,

Such as eternity, love, harmony, reincarnation,

A cuckoo is flying quietly,

Rotating in a small vortex,

The purplish petals began to invade and compete for water potential.

Muddy as wet sleeves;

We still stubbornly recall each other's feelings-

"I want to drink a pot of new tea this morning.

Not strong or weak. 」

"We are both under the heavy rain of life.

Occasionally meet under the eaves,

I fell in love with it. 」

In the distant past,

Even in such a short early spring,

We explore our similarities and differences,

Arguing about the meaningless confusion in life,

Such as eternity, love, harmony, reincarnation,

But we also vaguely know that,

No more things and people,

Can replace those who used to carve bones and hearts-

You always want to remember yours,

I always want to remember mine.

As we all know,

Anyway, it's touching now,

In an instant, fleeting.

No matter how noisy and angry life is,

In the loneliest moment of midnight,

The only companion around you is lonely you,

All tears are the fuse of your own tears.

All sighs are my own sighs.

We are as helpless as fallen flowers in spring,

Drift with the tide in the river of time,

We are at a loss for a small whirlpool,

After the disaster, we also drifted.

Rejoicing over the remnants of robbery,

We will snuggle up and pity each other,

Feel the flow of time quietly,

We seem to feel-

Life and death,

Love and hate,

Off and on,

Seems to stick to their repeated laws,

So one spring night,

We especially cherish-

A short life,

A brief love,

There is also a short-term closure!

Twilight is like soft purple satin,

Wrap us like buds,

There is a warmth in our language,

Because we're remembering,

A season or a town,

Triggering and ending of certain events;

We know—

House in spring,

Guqin in spring,

Rhododendron flowers in spring,

Never die,

Just like our souls,

Leaves fall in autumn,

Still like death,

New leaves in spring,

It's still like reincarnation,

What disappears is our stubborn identity,

A stubborn relationship with life.

A trickle,

The time of the drip,

Between your fingers,

For an instant,

Between helplessness and persistence,

Only the silent room,

The magical guqin,

The cuckoo of the dark soul,

Stick to the simplicity between your fingers,

And loneliness. Walk along the stone steps,

Except for a shocking moss mark,

It's a pool of scattered water stains,

The shape of the water stain,

Impressively is a palm-like maple leaf seal ─ ─

It seems indelible,

Will never disappear,

The trauma you've experienced,

Anyway, hidden in the dark green of winter moss,

Inevitably, intentionally or unintentionally,

Announce an indomitable message to the world-

What a red life!

It must be branded with a permanent memory.

But why is it that every time we meet,

But this is a farewell after meeting?

Why can't you be sure after breaking up?

But it was a meeting?

Why do you have to fix everything?

This is obviously a painful love,

But you still have to struggle?

Obviously this is a guarantee of happiness,

But you have to run?

Why wait until this time to love a man who has gone through many vicissitudes?

Why wait until you are white-haired to pity him?

Why wait until the best poems are read?

Why love,

There must be two identities,

Birthright?

"With gratitude and expectation,

Give you light and warmth,

I thought to myself,

You are reserved and come from far away.

How contradictory and difficult this is,

You must have thought it over-

Come or not,

Look or not.

Although I cherish every moment of the past,

How to look forward to every moment in the future,

But now you're shy,

But struggle

How to break your word? 」

"Why do you sigh deeply?

Always bear a grudge?

Why, your embarrassed expression,

Always with your daughter's dreamy eyes.

Why is there love,

Never happens in two cities?

Never, in an era when the country is broken,

Bear a grudge against an orphan?

Why are you waiting for my long vicissitudes,

Just like waiting for the best poet,

You chose me? 」

But in the indifferent evening of countless universities,

Pushing the door out is a cool gesture!

It's night, and I still don't know it's night.

Is loneliness still constantly afraid of loneliness-

The sadness brought by loneliness,

Even refuse to be lonely!

Look up and look around,

The ground is full of noisy and flying leaves,

There is no one around,

Wrap your left hand around your right arm,

So the wind is rustling,

It is raining,

You walk with your head down,

Nobody pays attention to you,

No one respects you,

Nobody knows you,

You are countless falling maple leaves,

Bloody,

You are the secret pain in China's heart,

Wandering around,

Put everything in the autumn of fate,

As if this is a middle-aged man with mixed feelings of sadness and joy,

On a sunny spring day in China,

Always wait for the next generation of young people.

Just as everyone used to be fresh and green,

Can't wait to stretch the branches into the sky,

However, this is the Fengfeng period.

"It's loneliness,

Always lonely. 」

You sigh in shame,

Then tighten the skirt with both hands,

Disappear in the night, wind and rain. In winter in Guihai, I bought an ancient wicker knife at the western "gun exhibition". I was overjoyed and couldn't put it down. After living in a foreign land for many years, this knife hit it off as soon as I met, and it was quite a feeling that old friends met and shook hands. Although Gai Yu is a frequent visitor to the "gun exhibition", he got this knife, but it is impossible to meet it. It rains on a cold night, and the lonely lamp caresses the knife, so this poem came into being.

How can we trace each other's lives tonight?

Although I have a thousand questions to ask,

You have nothing to say,

Under the lonely lamp,

You show it naked in silence,

With the fluctuation of the blade,

And irreversible collapse,

Gently spread out into a silent China,

An anecdote that can't go down in history,

State affairs,

River lake feud,

Everything is in silence.

But we will meet eventually.

In this life, or in a previous life?

I looked at it horizontally,

Cold curved willow leaves,

Or like purple frowning deeply that day,

Slender and mottled handles,

When the city collapsed that day,

Tooth marks in the center of arm engagement joint:

"Now that you're out,

Miss you like the sun and the moon;

The sun and the moon are like water,

No shortage. 」

The years are sad and the seasons have changed again.

Even if we meet, we don't know each other,

You can't tell each other,

In do or die,

Support each other in adversity,

How to be in the rivers and lakes with swords and shadows,

Become an inseparable life experience.

The saddest thing is-

Meeting after parting,

Can only shout, can't ask each other,

No more promises of life and death,

Only with the rest of my life,

Repay your dusty abandonment. Makes us feel lonely.

Go and hook a seasonal scarf.

Since spring.

With light green.

But it's short,

Then the long summer is accompanied by a plum rain,

But a large dark green,

There seems to be cicadas and thunder in the afternoon.

Then there was a heavy rain.

Lotus leaves are sprinkled on the cattail leaf fan,

Ding dong, ding dong,

The running water washed the soil into the ditch.

There was a heavy snoring like a nap,

Finally, it is autumn that we all like.

There is some lazy luster.

Hidden purple,

Through the vast green space,

This should be at the end of winter.

With a hint of grass green,

But this young lady is too greedy,

I always hope that winter will pass and autumn will come back.

So I hooked up with spring and summer again,

Can't wait for the autumn, but also use dotted lines to patch. Why did Mo Wen come? We have been waiting for each other for a long time.

This is a tacit understanding. suddenly

Fine snow is silent, naked with white skin.

There is also an unbridled wantonness;

The snow continued to fall.

If you dare not be transparent, the snow line will drip.

Songnen Plain on the banks of Aiqing Songhua River.

This used to be the nomadic land of Mongolian Zhelimu League.

On both sides of the river-

Clusters of ice are condensed on the willow branches of pine leaves.

The long beach is crystal clear for ten miles.

My hometown in the far northeast is very cold.

A starry night

Poetry is lonely and powerless.

Come back from a sad trip

Snow-covered ankles

The Brotherhood took a photo in Panasonic.

Like a sharp blade, the sun flies away.

Thin with a dull pain.

Last night, the new snow fell gently.

Just like his usual gentle tone.

For fear of disturbing the night

Bring dawn;

I saw the cover of Junichiro Tanizaki the next day, and I was speechless.

Is yukiko's marriage really as annoying as rain and snow?

However, getting together that night was better than leaving.

Madame smoothed her sleeves and grinded the inkstone.

My husband drew the outline of the branch.

Then she added a shadow to the tree.

Capture unlimited happiness in limited time.

Life is a painting, completed silently!

Wake up and look through the blinds.

A nice trip to the snow.

Clear your mind and go on your way.

From one city to another.

Like a trembling reed, behind the snow and in the wind. If I'm boiling water,

You are tea.

Then your scent is gloomy.

Must rely on my tasteless.

Make your hair dry and soft.

Spread out on me and relax;

Let me penetrate

Stretch your face.

We must be hot, even boiling

Compatible with each other

We have to hide.

Fight in the water, pester each other

Yizhan tea ceremony kung fu

We just decided to be a color.

No matter how rough you are.

feeble-minded

You'll take your time eventually.

(Oh, gently)

Fall down, gather

In my deepest place.

at that time

Your bitterest tears

Will be my sweetest.

Have a sip of tea. If we only have a short day together.

Next, I want to tell a long story about my life.

A dewy morning

Except birds singing and the sun.

What should sober you up is a pot of fragrant black coffee.

Then on the round glass table

Facing a bunch of lilacs and shy daisies outside the window.

Stupid childhood

A grumpy teenager

Right between the arms.

Let's sink the coffee at the bottom of the cup.

As for the vitality of the prime of life

Just like the news missed in the morning paper.

An exciting event

Only occasionally arouse the wonders of yellow flowers.

And the lingering blood and tears in middle age

There was only a downpour in the afternoon.

Slightly contributed to its uncontrollable momentum.

Really, that's a lifetime.

Send a long day to say

The prolonged heat in late summer.

The sudden coolness of early autumn

Cool and hot

A change and a shock.

Dream every night

Wake up with tears.

Feel vaguely in the dark

Only a long life in a dream.

Just say how easy it is to offset the rejection of the world in the future.

What an impressionable term.

Even if you cry and regret at midnight,

You can run out of the house in the morning.

Facing the early spring when the ice and snow melt,

Look at the world coldly—

For a sweet word,

I'm ready to spell pen and ink-

In search of that accidental moment,

Flowers are blooming,

The river is rapidly breaking its banks,

The shocking reflection of the mountains,

A handshake,

My forehead wants to touch, my eyes meet,

After that, I took the liberty of giving my life.

Long and helpless,

Nervous,

Only once in a lifetime,

And love words, is it only written once?

Only once?

Once you die, it's only once.

Is it just the overlap of a poem?

Only one topic can be repeated?

The pride of a lifetime can be squandered at will,

The love of a lifetime is a desperate gamble.

So, whether it's happening or remembering,

Moved or sobbed,

Countless times at that time,

There is only one name. I've learned that in life

The only beauty—

It lies in the cognition of possibility and impossibility.

Found some irresistible possibility;

For example, on a cloudy morning,

Drive to a town ten miles away,

Quietly drinking coffee or lemon tea,

In the smell of mint,

As life matures, listen with concern.

The inner monologue of a chapter

Maybe it's a longing for home,

Perhaps it is the pursuit of celibacy;

Then after drinking a glass of white wine at noon,

Bow your head and sip French onion soup,

Between pink salmon and snow-white shells,

There seems to be a transparent crack,

Between falling and not falling

Quietly poured into the feelings of a moment.

Beauty of eyes

Gently hang down.

I know better in life.

The only sadness-

It turned out to be very unlikely.

Found it completely impossible,

For example, in the afternoon when it rains cats and dogs,

Any hug gesture is futile,

Any lifelong private subscription is empty talk,

Only at the moment when the lemon turns sour and trembles,

I will remember a spring night in the mountain city-

The aftertaste of the wine between the lips is still there,

The tooth marks that woke up in the middle of the night are still there;

As for the smell of snuggling in the right collar,

It seems to be the evening breeze after rain.

Slowly and continuously,

As if in the endless evolution of life,

Always going back and forth—

Cloudy and sunny days,

Expect and regret,

Oh! Possible and impossible!

There's another one that's never in short supply—

Beauty and sadness. What a wonderful moment it was—

Starting with no memory,

Destroy the phase, keep the edge, and give up seeing.

Until there is no life or death.

Always quiet, no choice;

This is how to throw moths into the fire with sympathy and joy—

Gold evaporates in combustion and combines with mercury.

How to live in harmony!

All love in the afterlife and this life.

So put it in a bronze body forever.

Gilded bodhisattva

Gilded years;

This is the sitting statue of Maitreya Buddha in Yongle, Daming.

Wearing a five-leaf high crown, the body is decorated with treasures.

Hand wheel printing

Rosette on both legs

Two lotus flowers shoulder to shoulder respectively.

The petals on the left shoulder hold a nectar bottle.

The most victorious ancient crossing brahmin.

When the Buddha made such a promise-

In the future, I will inherit the status of Buddha.

Spend all your time at the Longhua meeting!

However, after the top ten disciples earnestly asked questions to the Jingshe,

I can't bear to let Buddha go there.

Because in the life I remember,

It's really hard to tell the past, the future or the present.

The golden mile method is solemn.

There is a pity and tolerance in the smile.

Smile continues to infect other bodhisattvas.

Manjusri has just returned from Radio 5.

Put your left foot on the ground and curl up the lion's back with your right foot.

This beautiful virtue and auspiciousness must be thoughtful.

Answer Vimalakīrti Ji Feng, who lives alone in bed.

From infatuation to love, I was ill.

There is eroticism, but there is no illusion of fire, water and wind.

How does a sick bodhisattva get out of the misery with all beings?

There is no way to climb, so walk conveniently and wisely.

It's only ten steps away.

Hold a sword in your right hand and a three-treasure seal in your left.

Manjusri sitting in the lotus!

Lotus stems meander from wrist to shoulder.

Joining the corpse is another blooming golden lotus.

What a magnificent and solemn gilded Buddha statue.

In the semi-nude, there is a belt hanging from the shoulder.

During the Yongle period of Daming

The waistline is very thin and soft. Drink you with Count Gray.

Some questions about premature delivery in France and China

This kind of tea is most suitable for the rose garden in the afternoon.

In the white pavilion, fans of rich families

Silver-plated tea set and ginger biscuits

After pouring rich cheese-

Everything is a small storm in the cup.

Jokes are implicit and humorous.

Occasionally exclaim

Victoria was there three minutes ago;

There is a kind of arrogance and elegance.

With the round dance of the small silver spoon

Gently knock on the gold-inlaid porcelain cup

Another kind of biased impression

But insist on visual satisfaction.

Touch is closely related to taste buds.

Choose this compliment.

Such customs can be traced back to16th century.

After the Portuguese princess married charles ii,

The court was puzzled by tea for a while.

Resolutely sail to Colombo!

Two hundred years later, Charles wiped the dust.

It is the so-called Earl Black Tea.

Gray is not black and white.

This is not a portrait, Gray.

Worried about young appearance

He is the prime minister of Britain.

An out-and-out reformist.

He is anxious, except for the voting rights of the middle class.

Just in the early afternoon.

Give him a special glass of Count Gray. Think back to when you auditioned for me,

Hit me, hit me, hit me,

Put my black body

Burning red,

I'm ambitious.

But in your last spoonful of top well water,

With the spirit of gv 10

Become clear,

You grind me, bend me and caress me.

On a March night in spring,

I finally played it quietly in your hand.

It becomes a sword with both rigid and flexible hilt.

I know this isn't the first handle you cast,

I am eager to be chosen. I'm the last handle,

From your gentle fingers,

I started the history of steel sword,

After many hardships,

today，

Hiding in the darkness of the scabbard,

What will happen to you-

There is only one history for me,

Your feelings have thousands of faces.

But every rainy night is like a dark night.

There is a sense of loneliness growing in my heart.

Makes me fidget.

Annoyed and screaming;

Therefore, this sword is full of emotion,

You can't cultivate chivalry,

You can't forget each other in the Jianghu.

There is a desire,

This is not a forbidden sword,

You can't just stay at home,

There is a mystery,

Difficult questions in the wind-

Why did you make me instead of me?

Why, with your short flesh and blood,

Refine my spring and autumn steel feelings?

With your decades of hot and cold impulses,

Abandoning me for a thousand years, countless people are helpless?