Hurriedly
· Zhu Ziqing ·
The swallow is going, there is another time; will willow, there is a greenness; peach blossom, there is another time.
However, smart, you tell me, why is our day? - Some people stole them:
Who is that? Where is it? It is their own escape: Where is it now?
I don't know how many days they gave me; but my hand is getting more emptiness. Counting in silence, eight
Thousands of days have been slippery from my hands; like a drop in the sea in the sea, my day is dropped in the time of time,
No sound, there is no shadow. I can't help but tears.
Although I went, I came to the middle of the way; how to hurry? When I got up in the morning
Waiting, the hut is incident in two or three opposite sun. The sun he has a feet, and it is slightly moving. I am also awkward.
Follow the rotation. So when it was washed, the days were from the basin; when eating, the days were from the rice bowl.
Go; silently, it is in front of the condensed eyes. I feel that he is going to hurry, when you reach out, he is from
When you have the hand, when you are dark, I am lying in bed, he has across me, from my feet
Fly. When I opened my eyes and the sun, I slip away again. I hide the sigh. But the new day
The shadow of the child began to flash in the sigh.
What can I do in the world of thousands of households? Only 徊, only
Have a hurry; in a hurry in more than 8,000 days, what is left, what is left? In the past, like a light smoke.
It was blown by the breeze, such as the mist, was steamed by the first yang; what traces I left? I am naked to this world.
Let's return naked between the blink of an eye? But it is not flat, why do you want to go through this?
You are smart, tell me, why is our day?
March 28, 1922
