About the Author: An Juanying, pen name Liang Xi, quiet, member of the Chinese Writers Association. Editor-in-chief of "Chinese Poetry Garden", deputy director of the Silk Road International Poetry Research Center of Northwest University, deputy chief planner of the World Chinese Poetry Spring Festival Gala, editor-in-chief of Poetry of Today's Culture and Education Daily, and editor-in-chief of Poetry of Writers Daily. He has published eight collections of poems and a long ** "Old Days". He has published nearly 1,000 poems in newspapers and magazines at home and abroad, and has won many awards. In 2019, he was awarded the Pushkin Medal for Poetry by the Russian Writers' Association.
: An Juanying, pen name Liang Xi, quiet, member of the Chinese Writers Association. Editor-in-chief of "Chinese Poetry Garden", deputy director of the Silk Road International Poetry Research Center of Northwest University, deputy chief planner of the World Chinese Poetry Spring Festival Gala, editor-in-chief of Poetry of Today's Culture and Education Daily, and editor-in-chief of Poetry of Writers Daily. He has published eight collections of poems and a long ** "Old Days". He has published nearly 1,000 poems in newspapers and magazines at home and abroad, and has won many awards. In 2019, he was awarded the Pushkin Medal for Poetry by the Russian Writers' Association.
An Juanying love poem
Walk into the person in your dreams.
The brook rhymes and frogs chirp in my heart.
When Sanskrit Zen connects the mind.
I have had a spiritual relationship with you in a dream.
Dissolves into one and disappears ......
Meditate** on your expression.
Present the wonders of nature.
It's not just your unique feelings.
But it is your exquisite atmosphere and elegance.
It's the inner rhythm of your profound talents.
There is a kind of purity in the world that makes people transcend things.
The devotion of the Dharma slowly melted into the seven-foot strings.
Listen to the beauty of the nothingness of heaven and earth.
The wind of returning to simplicity passes freely.
The sorrow that permeates the mountains and flowing water.
Who is the end of the world at this moment.
I don't know where I am
If only you could hear the symphony of my heart.
This is me, the time of the epiphany of emptiness.
2016..August 23 in Beijing.
A city I've never been to.
Came. It must be the lost starlight.
Haunting my shielded mind.
There is always a painting in a wandering dream.
It's a city I've never been to.
The drizzle falling in early spring.
In the repeated recounting of the encounter in the longing.
Gather and disperse the sorrow of detachment.
Through the eyes of you and me.
Since then, we have each thought about it.
It looks like an oil-paper umbrella that is stretched out.
Closing the boundless thoughts.
The post station in the south of the Yangtze River is hazy in the moonlight.
Appointments for the meeting.
Scribble for no reason.
Every calendar can't be forgotten.
A chance encounter that turned around in an instant.
There's always inspiration from now on.
Conceive a song about you.
There is a poem of that city of yours.
Every time I look at the new moon and become round.
Hung full of melancholy. I put the shyness of the sky full of excitement.
Quietly buryed. You're well thought out.
In a line of text.
I hear you. Singing loudly in his hometown.
Fate (1) Maybe the fate of this life.
More than just greetings.
It's not just about encounters.
It is the cultivation of mutual appreciation.
The content of your wisdom is fragrant and splendid.
Silently spurred me to improve in my hardships.
It's not just blessings and concerns.
Like water that nourishes my sorrows.
It is your sincere and beautiful words and deeds.
It makes me confident and impressed.
It's you in my little space.
Quietly leave me with the surprise that I am fascinated by.
Just like the Nine Heavens Starry Moon and the Han River.
Tolerate and laugh at the vicissitudes of my years.
I don't dare to thank you.
I'm afraid that I will live up to the original intention of you and me.
Comfort and warmth from the depths of each other's hearts.
Silent and sincere communication of love and openness.
The Buddha gave you.
A pair of eyes that discover truth, goodness and beauty.
Let you discover the beauty and light of love.
At the same time, it is shallow and flashy.
Understanding and respect for human nature.
Lingering generosity is a heaven and earth.
Day after day, eternal calling.
2021.3.10th.
(2) If not.
In a story where there is no mystery.
I met you like a dream.
I'm not going to whisper to you for the first time.
If not. The wind has blown your name to my ears.
Wade through the water, your words are like stars.
Quietly collect your poetry like a song.
One ten, hundreds, thousands, thousands.
A paper kite folded with a mind stirs its wings.
Lost in my eyes.
Hehe. If it weren't for the fact that I couldn't read your fierce sword.
If it weren't for the fact that you couldn't see your elven body.
How could I raise my hair again and turn around and call you all over the world......
You, you!If it really is.
There is no way out.
There is no chance to cover up the empty discussion.
Bring all your sea to me.
Treasure my snow-capped mountains and the pure reflection ...... of white clouds
Under the linden tree. We promise the fate of this life.
I want your eyes to gaze at the tender and dynamic breath.
I can't hide my sadness.
Any roll of rain curtains drips year after year.
If there is scattered rain tonight.
A little bit of it floats to your hometown.
That's exactly what I hinted at gently.
Remember?My dear.
A hug we've ever had.
In the south of the Yangtze River in March.
The green lantern of refuge has not been lit.
Sanskrit bells are also singing in a low voice.
Heaven and earth are so far apart.
But it can be connected to the cliff by the sea.
I'm like a ship with its sails down.
Let the sea wash and flutter mercilessly.
I can only look at your back as you fade away, and I can't get closer
Listen to your own voice in the wind.
Tears twisted into a rope.
Kidnap yourself permanently.
No one knows.
This is a heart-wrenching thought.
It is the greatest and only happiness of my humble life.
My dear. The Buddha said to wait for a long time.
Thoughts without an ending.
is the true love in the world.
If so, do you know your beloved?
Every day there is always someone thinking about you and thinking about you.
That's who I am, that's who I am.
Fog lock five pavilions. Dreams you forget.
It's the only pain I have for a long time.
There is nowhere to live. The scarf like a butterfly was lost on the surface of the lake.
A pot of cloudy wine. Relatively wordless.
Leave my thoughts low.
Touch lightly**.
Fireworks in March.
The spring breeze swept away the snow.
Open your brocade peach fan.
In the silence came the sound of cranes chirping.
One stands on one foot in the pavilion.
One circled outside the pavilion.
Written in Slender West Lake, Yangzhou.
Are you thinking about me at dusk and crescent moon?
The branches are curled to the end of the world.
Dark incense from who prospers.
Only at dusk and at the time of the crescent moon.
Half hazy, half bright.
Lonely dusk, wind and rain.
It's like a graveyard in my heart.
I think you'll always be full of stars.
The vicissitudes of life, the flying leaves fall red, and drift away with the wind.
When I miss you, there is always a symphony of drums and songs.
I want you to be as unrestrained and enthusiastic as the sea in your arms.
I want you to scold you like a spring breeze on your pillow.
I miss you, I miss you, I think about everything about you ......
If we never see each other again in this life.
If you can't fall in love in this life.
If there is no three-life bond.
Even if it's for you to turn around and disappear from the back.
I'm going to have all the dreams in the world.
Have been doing it all the time to have a dream.
My head can rest gently and sweetly on your shoulder......
I really miss you.
From late autumn to the shallow spring of each year.
You are my heart's thoughts.
Night and night, I will walk the world with my soul and dreams.
Just for the only hug I had.
Just for your quick breath of enchanting body fragrance.
Every intersection.
I'd love to meet you.
Gently hug you from behind.
Tell you one. I will not let go of you in this life".
The desire to stay awake for a long time.
A thousand times of worrying.
Just for your words.
I will not let go of you in this life".
I really want to meet you.
But again and again, I don't allow myself to think about you anymore.
I'm afraid of seeing each other again.
Drunk for a lifetime of true affection.
I'm afraid that the passion will get out of control when we meet again.
Each of them is like fire.
Stuck in the red dust, there is no way to return to the original.
If you're also quietly missing.
A me who can never love each other.
It's nice to be in the same kind of silent heart-wrenching pain...
Let the Buddha beads twist lightly, close your eyes and sing.
Flashes of affection and shyness again and again.
Shake the heartstrings of the Buddha's words and Zen Taoism.
The sound of the wooden fish is still there.
Repentance slid through trembling fingertips.
The heart lake is still rippling lightly.
I really miss you.
But it's really good to think about.
This life and this life. Never meet you again.
As long as it's raining.
Give me a little bit of reverie.
Too much to forget.
Your moisturizing and graceful.
I felt deeply guilty.
Borrow your wind. Put the song in your heart.
Pierce the rain curtain to dedicate to the hometown.
The silent scenery in the dream.
Attachment is the same. Running barefoot in a watered field.
Count the green bamboo tops.
Dripping droplets.
Drop after drop.
Eyes looking at each other.
Burst out of the sea of colorful mysteries.
Gently cold rain.
A soft and gentle wind.
Oh!If it weren't for you.
How could I never forget.
That June night.
Paper boats in my tears.
Drift gently away in the rain.
Disappear softly in the wind.
Lose. Listen to the birds and butterflies.
The heart is in a dream of blossoming and bearing seeds.
Still slightly drunk. The ink flavor is strong and fragrant.
Ride through the cold moon of crimson yellow.
Swim against the current. The sails are dotted.
My wanton memories.
Like a herd of fierce horses galloping.
Tang style and Han rhyme. Coming from all directions.
I was both martyred here.
2022.1.20th.
Untitled. Watch the depths of your soul.
A back. The farther and farther you go.
Such as neon lights.
Shine in my night.
In the end, I didn't dare to turn back easily.
lest it extinguish me.
The only one.
Scratched and precious memories....
Aesthetic eye.
Inscription: Thanks to the kind invitation of Pan Bailing, the director of "Poetry Book", I came today with "aesthetic eyes" as promised.
Dig into the depths of "Poetry Book".
It's not just an artistic conception.
It is the possession of truth, goodness and beauty as a whole.
It is to dissect the vicissitudes of the times with words and verses.
It is with the original heart, with the soul
It is ...... that love will be endlessly bonded
If "Poetry Book" is a new wing, "Bailing" is the golden silk bird that attracts it!
If the Book of Poems is a clear spring, then each of the poems is sung like a Sanskrit song.
Will greet and moisturize how much.
A sand, a stone, a grass and a tree.
Then the dreams will flow.
Circuitous or ups and downs....
I will always use an aesthetic eye.
With it finally arrived in all corners of the world.
Peach Blossom Dream. I ran out of inspiration.
Writing our love story.
Glimpse virtual chapters.
Like the misty smoke and rain in March.
It is like the autumn leaves of early autumn.
Commenting on past and present lives.
An inseparable marriage.
You have always treasured it in my diary.
This is a secret love that has no fate.
It's the only memory of my love.
I miss your deep and honest smile.
I miss your tender eyes.
Love your dashing turn.
Don't say goodbye. ...
I'm in the breeze blowing in the distance.
Secretly feel your breath and heartbeat.
Slightly sweet with roses and lilies.
I'm inhaling my heart and lungs deeply.
Penetrate the soul. I'm on the edge of the burning clouds.
Seek your warm and open chest.
The sincerity of embracing the transcendent red dust.
Let it penetrate my humility and admiration.
Someday, dear.
In the harsh winter of heavy snowfall.
Or the scorching summer of the red sun.
When I suddenly appear in front of you.
Hold your hands shyly.
You, you, you. How will you greet me...
Anyway, when the time comes.
I just want you to take a good look at me again.
For what I can't ask of you.
Obsessed. For me every year when the peach blossoms are in full bloom.
for your impulsiveness and restraint.
Anyway, when the time comes.
I really want to.
Can you hug me gently.
You can make my crimson cheeks.
On my forehead under my hair.
Leave a deeply captivating kiss.
New Year's Day 2022 first draft.
Editor: Editorial Department of Inexhaustible.com.