你看,我不写诗,我已把文字送进时间的牢笼服役。你牵一只蜈蚣喂到他的嘴里。我背向天道而卧,迟开的曼陀罗,在我血红的嘴里咀嚼。雪应该还有一个比雪更美的名字。新年新气象。干瘦的马匹对着寒风呼啸,笑歪了风的唇,马尾被风拖住,雪地上找牙的乌鸦号啕大哭。生命。沉潜的词。你一抿嘴又把白乌鸦说成是黑凤凰。其实两者都一样。啊!可恨的时间,时间之于你我都是个狠角色,不过面对你他是男人,他的浪漫偷 You see, I do not write poetry, I have put the text into the prison of time service. You feed a centipede to his mouth. The mandala I lay back to heaven, late, chews in my blood-red mouth. Snow should have a more beautiful name than snow. New Year new weather. Lean and whistling skinny whistling wind, laughing crooked wind lips, horsetail dragged by the wind, looking for teeth in the snow crow crying. life. Submerged word. You pout again put the white crow black Phoenix. In fact, both are the same. Ah! Hateful time, the time you and I are a ruthless character, but he is a man in front of him, his romantic steal