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1或许我是一只鸟,一只候鸟,或许我什么都不是。撩开阳光的羽毛,这只不知来自何处的火鸟,正卧在春天不再碧蓝的背囊。鸟,一个活脱脱的象形文字。弹出伏羲的九龙车,忽喇喇在大地上铺展开。一只神奇的手,一块小本炭,一些神秘的符号,忽然就将文明的钥匙留在第四纪岩石上了。日神我父,日神我父,刻在我骨头里永不沉落的图腾,连同文明的钥匙镌刻我躯体的血印,给我生命,给我痛觉与思考。
1 Maybe I am a bird, a migratory bird, maybe I’m nothing. Lift the sun’s feathers, which only do not know where the firebird is lying in the spring is no longer blue backpack. Bird, a vivid hieroglyph. Fuji Kowloon car pops up, suddenly La La spread in the ground spread. A magical hand, a small piece of charcoal, some mysterious symbols, suddenly left the key to civilization on the Quaternary rocks. The Father, the Father of God, the Father of God, the totem that never hurts in my bones, and the seal of my body, together with the keys of civilization, give me life and give me pain and thought.