(Original: Pine of a Thousand Ridges).
The sea with the softest body.
Lowest posture.
Flowing, surging, flashing.
From time to time, huge waves are set off.
Even though the night covers everything.
The mountains, forests, grasslands are immersed in tranquility.
The sea is also in deep shadows.
Every molecule of the sea.
There is still no peace in dreams
Or murmur, groan, and sing loudly.
Or groaning, weeping, full of grief and indignation.
Or dream back to the alpine era, where magma rushes.
Burning, red through half the sky, and then falling.
Descent into the bottomless abyss.
Or a hurricane rises steeply and waves crash into the clouds.
I want to fly into the sky and connect with the Milky Way.
Both in reality and in dreams.
It doesn't stop for a moment.
Dare to be angry, dare to cry, dare to laugh and dare to speak.
Never whitewash, never hypocritical.
Never flattering, never pretentious.
Fortune rises and falls at any time.
Dance with the wind.
Brilliant with the streamer.
Present the most free nature.
It is characteristic of the sea.
And the reef on the coast in the sea.
But it has stood still for thousands of years.
Grounded, stubborn, hard.
It seems to be locked by an invisible iron cage.
Never follow the crowd.
Never half-hearted.
Frank, determined, loyal.
It is the character of the reef.
A storm struck, and the earth shook.
The waves crashed wildly against the reef.
Vent your unbearable pain.
The reef doesn't move half a step.
Fight against doom with iron bones.
Even if it breaks, even if it breaks.
and guide the way for the sea to hold every high ground.
It is also necessary to leave a barrier for life in the wind and rain.
It is also necessary to keep the home of the flying seabirds.
Years of endurance and endurance.
Makes it age faster.
Day after day, year after year.
Mystical power robbed it of its beauty.
The woods, green grass, and flowers were swept away by the hurricane.
The bare body is carved with the folds of time.
Even so. The reef is still full of love for the sea.
All the eyes can see.
The ancient sea beats the eternally young waves.
All your ears can hear.
The sea is melodious or passionate, and the sound of the waves that never grows old.
Reefs are life and death.
Stick to the same faith.
The sea has been around for generations.
The ideal of freedom flows.
In some ways similar.
A land that never ends.
Guards of the Frontier.
Border guards have been stationed on the frontier for generations.
Generations of fortitude and uprightness, and generations of old age and decay.
And the territorial waters and airspace.
Forever young, forever ever.
Always painting a picture that changes with each passing day.
Always writing a psalm of joy and sorrow.
Always on the way to the ideal country of the future.
Galloping, swirling, dark, bright.
There is no end to the wind.
Written on January 29, 2024.
Instructions:1This is my original poem, plagiarism is strictly prohibited; 2.Scenery *** on the Internet. If there is any infringement, please contact me to delete it. ）
Original poetry