It’s true that everyone has made a mistake in this world, blaming themselves first and then complaining about their words. The myriad words are that we made a mistake, the culprit misheard the military order and messed up the news, and we fell into the whirlpool. At one time, the enemy and the brother drew their swords and folded their flowers, and the treasure chest was full of words. Du Liniang woke up in Peony and Macbeth was running. Aren’t they the same thing?

It’s all failures. Sisyphus can’t hide that the stone is rolling from the top of the mountain. Why are you still lingering on the stack? What do you want me to say? Oh, don’t Homer say that Dickens says it’s all the same. It’s necessary to ask and answer at the end. They are exactly the same thing. Their name is failure.
It’s self to look down on yourself if you fail completely. Huang Zhongze’s poem says that 19 people are ugly, and 11 people are born in Ginsberg. He said that I need a guru. He can’t regenerate. Huang Zhongze was born in Ginsberg, New Jersey, or went to the shogunate or smoked marijuana. In fact, it’s all a retreat. He is not going to send them to the center of the world, but to tear down the village and withdraw his troops back to his own poverty and loneliness, and he still turns a blind eye to them
Who didn’t think at seven o’clock in my heart that Ginsberg once called for my stepmother to be my companion, and she still cried for her mother’s tears. There are many beautiful words than Huang Zhongze’s poems. Before the wind, there was a feeling of empathy. When Yu Dafu started poetry, he often resented it. It’s not worth half a cent to come here again, but behind him, all three people died quietly. Failure is the coffin, and the sacrificial wine vessel is the end point. There is no hope here.
There are two roads: one wants to live, the other wants to die, the other leads to the banquet in Qionglin, and the other is mostly the opposite of life. But wait a minute. The latter road is still full of sediment. The golden beach says that life without introspection is not worth fighting. If you fail, you have to pick up a sword and write a poem. It’s just a parting of the ways. You and I will go the other way. I will continue my prejudice on the wooden bridge. You know that many times failures are accumulated by many prejudices, but this is life. Can I dodge and write a sentence with Xin Posca? I prefer people to people.
The world is already in Posca, but counting how many people call her a failed servant. Oh, she is always laughing and sneering, that is, her fate is not good. She has never been obsessed with her own sorrow. This narrow sorrow is really funny. If she is laughing, she is laughing at all the creations, and there are many ridiculous things in the creation. That is, she said in a sad tone that I will apologize to the old love for the new love. I will apologize to the huge question briefly. I can’t help but apologize to everything. In fact, she is talking about poetry and laughing at the physical fate. These births are destroyed. These are intertwined
I failed not to write poetry, but to write poetry, except for Xin Posca and Borges. He wrote that I was vainly looking forward to the symbol falling apart before I fell asleep. He also wrote that a person can become an enemy of others, but he can’t become a firefly in a region. The garden is full of water, wind and enemies, but Huang Zhongze’s thousands of laughter and worries are also indispensable.
The road to failure also requires meditation and almsgiving to learn from the Western Heaven, but if you forget the direction, you will be willing to be blind and willing to want, you will be able to raise the relic. When the time comes, I will always have a star bigger than the moon, and then I will look at your body. It is watching, listening, smelling, being close and cool, looking for dangerous whirlpool, and then going to put out the fire. It is everywhere, and it is still dying.
On the other hand, in ancient China, those who were regarded as sorrowful and stubborn poets always preferred vernacular poetry and then sounded the gavel in simple words. Needless to say, Huang Zhong often regarded the law of words. If floating clouds disease is a recent laziness, I used to walk around three hundred miles and five days ago. On the sixth day, I was suspicious. Let’s look at Yuan Zhen’s mourning, for dinner we had to pick wild herbs, and to use dry locust-leaves for our kindling, today they are paying me a hundred thousand, Junying, drinking and resuming camp. This is a true failure poem. It depends on the simplest thing, fly with me, but it doesn’t interfere with each other. When the flower came into my eyes, I said it was a plum blossom, and then the plum blossom died. I told people that a plum blossom died, just like Yuan Zhen said to his dead wife, today, the salary exceeded 100,000 yuan, and I want to pay homage to you. It’s nothing to go to Chaozhou Road, and it’s nothing to walk thousands of miles. I’m sorry for your infatuation in the immortal temple of Ma Yupo’s grievances, and I’m sorry for you first. When things are dying, I’m not destined to write poems, and my heart will leave.
Sorrow all the way is often disguised as dressing up and getting into the failed team. It was not until the twilight that the hope of going to court was slightly released. Another hope tortured him even more. From the time when Xianke asked for methods to the monk’s house to ask for bitterness, Lu Zhaolin was defeated when he was young. In the past, Bai Yutang, the golden step, was like the first time. Now, you can only see that the pines are living in a lonely bed every year. It is a real victory when you look at the calm people. Unfortunately, the perennial illness has rewritten his face. He has been lying around for ten years, and the bed has been swaying. Gui, with one arm curled up and two feet crawling, is a thousand miles away. But in the face of failure, the first thing is to be kind to flowers, grass and yourself. I’d better tell the truth. The more Lu Zhaolin got, the more she endured failure. They wrote not failure, but reactionary writing about failure. It was not bitter, but bitter. How many crazy children were gentle and violent to the world, but they just couldn’t accept it or themselves calmly.
Rilke, if you live, don’t run, you will turn to dust, and I know failure. I’m afraid of people saying that they will put everything on the table. This is called a dog and that is called a house. Here is the end. He said that I love to hear everything sing, but once you touch them, you will stop. You have ruined everything for me. Rilke is writing about failure. Waiting for failure is the same as waiting for the road to Qionglin Banquet and Golden Temple. But in Rilke, failure is not the end. Waiting for the road to fail is the end. Since the end point is still waiting, if you ask me, he is also building a garden and an empire, and many of his colleagues are testifying that it is almost impossible for you and me to run through our lives.
Salome came to Du Lala, and Akhmatova put it in the letter, not to enter the bridal chamber with him, but to succeed one after another. The witness said that fate was that we came from the crowd instead of approaching us from the outside, but this day we would wither like roses all our lives. It was wrong to let the sun shine in Rilke and let the roses come back to life. It was not to point out the Hanlin, but to hit the golden branch. It was just that we were suffering day after day and talked about mediocrity. They formed a waiting and stopped here to deserve to talk.
I sang that everything became rich, but I was abandoned by them, Rilke.
Give brodsky back. You think he failed because he died in prison. Oh, no, he is never ashamed of it. Even if he dies, the lights of the Volga River and the Estonian minarets will still live in his taste buds. He will find his motherland. He wants to die and cry. At first glance, it is just a small problem. For example, I woke up from my dream twice tonight and went to the lights outside the window with the pale ellipsis to try to supplement the broken words in my dream, but it did not bring comfort. For another example, he asked Christ in the tone of the virgin. Are you my son or emperor? How can I go home
It’s not a small problem, it’s really a life-and-death problem. In brodsky, a bigger problem stems from the fact that human beings have to be born to avoid failure. It has already come to him. His response is to make our lives more complicated, which proves that we didn’t die in stupidity. It’s not to abandon failure but to die. Life is to find subtlety in anger and resentment. This subtlety will eventually bring us from the front of the camera, meet each other, run and bend over. Only then can we turn a blind eye to failure, and only then can it become true.
What should I say in life? It is long and hates broken eggs. I am sad, but the omelet makes me vomit. But unless my throat is stuffed with brown clay, it will be grateful to brodsky.
At the last moment, such a failed poem should be dedicated to the world. Robert Bly failed in rainy September. Both men and women can do this before us. I will go to see you, and you can come to see me once a year. We will be two hulled grains instead of sowing. We lie dormant in the room, the door is closed, the lights go out, and I will sob with you without shame and disregard for dignity. That’s how men and women are bad at love poems, but his way is really a failure. It’s hard to tell the difference between yin and yang, but Babylon is like an eternal palace, but the king, Qian Shan, birds
At this critical moment, it’s best for either the government official or the Scotland Yard detective to fall from the sky and block the failed door, raise their knives and guns and tell them not to move. Otherwise, looking for a marriage will go to the city to seal off the city, Qin Xianglian to Britain to be King Lear, and one by one, he will have to change the stone again. To be honest, it’s better to change it to Sisyphus, and he is afraid that the stone will still be Shakespeare after moving for a long time.
Jingzhou resentment song
In Jingzhou, I believe in saying this. Therefore, when Chu broke the country, thousands of sad birds flew in the sky, covering the sun and crying. It was more than fighting and killing. It was like a scourge that sounded the death knell. Chushan lost both his feet. Bian sat on a boulder in his arms and cried for three days and nights. Tears oozed from his eyes, not because he had just been trampled on, but because his compatriots all regarded the miracle in his arms as a lie. General Wu Shewu was still on his way to seek death, leaving no future trouble. The front-line son wants to go home and ask his father to be a travel-stained man at the same time. It’s not that he doesn’t know his field, but it’s very good. He would rather die with his father, but he will expel his younger brother Wu Xu, who has been running for a long time in the dark.
In ancient China, Jingzhou was a country when flowers were in full bloom, but it was too white to bend over. I, a madman in Chu, who sang a mad song disputing Confucius, was either born in vain, but I hoped to know Jingzhou in Korea. More often, Jingzhou was the most determined country in this country, waiting for another blood spill to wash it. People in other parts of the country often saw their destiny in the endless abyss of lotus flower separation, and they had to end the city of flesh and blood in order to be clear and peaceful, and they had to accept death before they could live with a heavy burden.
The ancient wall of Jingzhou, which is now surrounded by rivers and wheat fields, if it is partially lost in the year, its soul should be hidden in a long death. A ragged team said that the descendants of phoenix birds came from the wilderness recorded in Shanhaijing to have children in the tribulus swamp and died in the war and plague. This century-old country was built in the eyes of these people, and they could not get rid of the fate that the capital was attacked by the enemy every time. They only continued to die and gradually drifted away to Jingzhou today.
I can’t see a narrow moat in my eyes, but the Chu people have settled here. Is it because they decided in anger that the people of this country are blessed? They have actually figured out one thing. If you can retreat, you have to retreat again. I have to take risks and live in the place closest to death. My brother, our life and blood can be regarded as the last day of this city. The more the moat walls are born, the later the last day will come. Whoever comes home alive after a war will be shameful, and death will follow. It’s worthwhile to go, so in the four fields of Jingzhou, the earliest songs in ancient China were born by the Chu people. They are still alive today. Wu Gexi was injured by the wrong hub of the rhinoceros car, and the short soldiers met Ling Yu’s array.
It can’t be said that China people’s original concept of life and death was cast in Jingzhou, but the blood and flesh of Jingzhou still flashed a cold light in the starry Spring and Autumn Period and the Warring States Period. This tells people that there is such a way to die in the world, which is calm but pleasant and sharp, but only in this way can we finish the calculation of life and death. A person’s hometown is actually a place where he came from, surrounded by trees and three branches, which can be poured with dew according to his vegetation, and his bones can be taught. The blood of the sun, the moon and the wheel is still not cold, that is, and when people live in Jingzhou At a time when there was a war on the border, whether he was an enemy or a Tatar, Zhang Ju was excited. Although the front of the plane had already been hidden, he still didn’t want to hide his own story. In a play, he quoted Gan Yanshou, a famous Western Han Dynasty, as saying that a strong man would be punished if he was far away.
It’s still ringing in my ears that I was a guest in Jingzhou and lived in Qin Chu Huaiwang’s death. When I came to Chu Nangong, I once wrote a sorrowful statement on bamboo slips, telling the Chu people to remember that although Chu died three times, Qin Bichu died.
There must be two Jingzhou, one is drawing silk, the other is spring flowers in Jingzhou, Qiu Lai falls, the people are born with rice, and it is cooked, or the spring breeze of peaches and plums is cooked. Cen Can Du Fu raises a glass, and once there was a night rain in the rivers and lakes, Yuan Zhen, Bai Juyi sang wine flags, and there were more fireworks and anecdotes flying. If time is over, Jingzhou in the wheat field is willing to be a warm and full little woman, but another ideal city is a historical book. Jingzhou is a war-torn place. Ma Si people always complain that if people are attacked by fire, they will become scorched earth. May it become more and more fascinating. Not only can it not be its own master, but it is more like a top-notch toy. The hero of the country will hide his strength and bide his time. In the future, it will take a sword to pick its face, which can be regarded as an engraved mark and a drop of thick ink in his enchanting picture.
The road from drawing to history is silence lost. When it comes to the Three Kingdoms, it is a Jingzhou, which is Liu Bei’s warm nest and Liu Biao’s life gate. It is a battlefield of Confucius and a nightmare of Gong Jin. It seems that the red dust clamors and the feet change several times. It seems that the grass boat borrows arrows and white clothes to cross the river to save the bones and cure the poison. When it comes to Jingzhou, it is actually accompanied by the crime of life, fearing a bloody baby. Jingzhou has made a brand-new source for ancient China. Jingzhou was silent and lost. This was born here. The earliest bronze musical instrument in the country, when the Qin empire was still immersed in the crock ringing, the sonata of the clock, the chime and the drum instrument had already resounded in Chu, and the most famous prisoner in this country, young Wang Jingwei, a revolutionary believer of Confucius instrument, was born here. Even if he was deeply imprisoned, he had to write a generous song, Yan Shi was imprisoned from Chu, which was the most dazzling flash in China’s text, which was smeared and tampered with.
Today is the evening, and I, Koo and Koo Jingzhou, are a corpse, a war, an orphan from the foggy city. At dawn, they are shelved or even detained in the water dungeon of Jiuqu Cloister. Will it be a bit resentful to face this fate shrouded by spells for a long time, sober and indulgent, a little abandon and a little kindness? Which one is out of the mystery, which one is holy and who will condemn me?
It is also because of this that a hero who starts a knife and falls down in the annals of history will be doomed in Jingzhou, and he will rush into Wu Wuxu. It is said that the only way for those who can’t sleep at night to spend the hard time except sharpening their knives is to mentally plan for Chu Huaiwang all kinds of ways to die, not to live, but to kill back the man who has bitten all his teeth. Jingzhou is his disease and his medicine, and he has to drink this powerful medicine to continue his career. In fact, how far away he is from Jingzhou, he is a prisoner of Jingzhou all his life, that is, revenge day comes. He really dug the tomb of King Chu Ping, but he can still assert that Jingzhou, the king of Chu Ping, has completely changed. He is no longer the white-robed boy at the beginning, but a white-haired man who will spend the rest of his life in Jingzhou.
It’s still a mythical cloud. Who would have thought that after five beheadings, six generals would end up confused by a careless subtotal and lost Jingzhou? In the later generations, dozens of plays were sung. This time, the 19th was lamenting the heroic arrogance, but the end was mostly an understatement, but it looked more like an elegant preparation for twists and turns. Although it added a little interest to Jingzhou in the Three Kingdoms like the Iron Curtain, the revolution was not embroidered after all, and it was not a rocky rock. It was better to explore a bunch of cherries behind Jingzhou, so it was easy to step on the poor road.
When I was young, I occasionally climbed the ancient wall of Jingzhou to kill time in the cave where the soldiers were hiding. Today, I still remember a acacia tree outside the north gate. Although it is towering, it is withered, saying that its destiny will come to an end every spring, but new leaves will be born. The answer to the riddle is that it ran out of oil when the lights dried up. At that time, I had already given birth to a new tree. If it is now, I ask myself, how do you know if it is the soul of Chu is still surging in Jingzhou today? It is not only this acacia tree, but also surging in the sunset Chu tomb and rushing to the river shop
Back in 270 BC, the capital of Chu and Ying was breached. On that day, when the soldiers of the Qin Empire stepped into the city gate, they definitely didn’t expect that there was hardly a prince or official in the recruited team except for calm, but the smell of wine was not in the air. That was actually when the disaster was doomed, they let go of their weapons and wrote down their legacy. After we were willing to die, we drank all the wine in the altar, drew our swords and cut our relatives, and they gave birth to them and accepted their death with a heavy burden.
Physical remains
This time, it’s said to be a farewell poem. When Qu Qiubai died, when the clouds ran out, I was at large. The word “the world is this death” is the end of life, but it may not be the truth, good knowledge and flesh. The last sentence spent in the world of life and death is a farewell poem, or dying unsatisfied or regretting it. It seems that there are two more posts in the Long Pavilion, and the wall of the title is just right. Finally, it is just right to save happiness.
But some people don’t live for themselves in this life. He is living for the elegant classics in front of him, and he is also exhausted. However, in others’ eyes, things outside the body have tampered with him. In the end, this life without fireworks is nothing but castration. It’s only when the moment comes to writing the poem. What is your life? What sentence do you want with this poem? It’s a physical relic as well as a physical relic.
The setting sun destroys the chaos, the leaves in the mountains are cold, and yet, I who have borne ten years of pitiable existence’s heart is half broken. Before being taken to the execution ground, Qu Qiubai became the last song in the prison, but it was composed of four sentences of the Tang Dynasty. In these four sentences, except for the deadly, he was still vaguely indifferent. This indifference had already drawn a dungeon before the torture, and it was enough to take it to the execution ground to humiliate me. I have long been an orphan, and I have not finished this joint sentence for the last time. The time has come, and I am just an orphan from generation to generation.
Playing through the body won’t be like knowing Buddhism and Taoism before death. They will infuse people’s hearts and get up early tonight. The chanting and meditation people still have to meditate. The world is still vast, and the dead still don’t want to know whether it is right or wrong. It is to live in a different place. This is why Tang Bohu will leave this sentence when the yin and yang are divided. Born in a sunny place, the dead house is similar to the dead house. When floating in a foreign land,
The world is really unpredictable. Tang Bohu and Qu Qiubai were people who died in the same way. They were born in an era. Russian poet Ye Saining was born in an era. Maybe they were invisible to the naked eye. They were going to walk together. In the early winter of 1925, Ye Saining bit his finger and wrote the last poem in a snowstorm in Russia. Goodbye, friends don’t have to shake hands or talk about it. It’s not new to die in our lives, but it’s certainly not rare to live.
Ye Saining passed away, but not everyone can bite his finger when he can’t find a pen. On the contrary, people will go further than if he can’t find a person in this world, and she will go to another world to find him, just like Ye Saining lover Galina Benislavskaya. His last poem is that she accepted the world at his grave one year later, and Ye Saining Benislavskaya ended her life with a pistol. Who can think of a poem that killed two people? Who can think of how other people’s sentences can become a knife to kill herself?
It’s really a bridge of words all the way. In this bridge, even people can repeat their past lives and have a foggy front. Therefore, when they beat drums or beat their chests, they have to hesitate for the time being. It’s time for those who want to cry to cry, and everything they tell about their feelings must be dripping with blood. Only in this way can they be rescued at this moment. Wu Meicun, a deceased official of the Qing Dynasty, will say to himself how to get rid of the sin of being grateful and how to fill the debt.
If you say that you have come from the mountains, people always ask if you have brought orchids. Now you are coming from the flesh and blood, and you are writing a poem of doom. You are not the other writer. In fact, you have included your career. worldly desires is either gray or not boating. Others will always see you. Is this life full of water or a peach blossom? Li Hongzhang worked hard to get rid of the saddle. Only when he was 20 years old, can he know that he died. When he wrote 10,000 years ago, who wrote a history of 3,000 miles away, how many people turned around and read him.
Looking back, you can’t find the wrong person in the desperate poem. Seventy years ago, I returned to the old Linquan Songshan Road Couple to visit and laugh. I pointed out that the yellow flowers and white cranes were honest and strict with me. These dying poems seemed to be untouched, but they were so happy that many people admired it. This calm made people ignore the road, but it was a miracle. Moreover, the miracle was not a painstaking copy of the classics. Everyone would believe it, and it became everyone’s hope. It was like a happy ending in the novel.
The first time I devoted myself to the poem of doom was when I was reading the novel Liu Gong’s case in Zhanghui many years ago. In the novel, a woman named Jiao Suying was so wronged that she left ten poems, which were just common sayings, such as sitting alone in the eaves of a thatched cottage and hating many birthdays, but it was a difficult problem to be alone at the bedside.
I’m not a castle peak, but there are scattered wild graves everywhere. Because of this, in the desperate poems I have read, there are just two famous sentences that are the most unbearable to read. One is that in the past, the death row inmates had to mumble before the decapitation, and the other is that the prostitutes in ancient Rome stayed in the party tonight. At present, she holds a call and tells her sisters to engrave it on her tombstone, which has been ravaged before her death. Don’t trample on this person again.
However, you are what you are, and you are buried in what sentence.