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Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

Text/Quinoa

Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

1 Twilight

Twilight, rendered through the water cup

The greenery among the dead wood,

This old and new is mixed

Cut the blood vessels

Wake up with the flowers in the midst of sleep

Dreamy lips,

This fingertip is slightly cool as you leave a memory

Seeds of love

If only you could tell the night

Carry the letterhead

Spring rivers are between you and me

Duckweed of the floating world

Look into the distance and re-pull out the white horse of love

Collect rainwater

Collect the peach blossoms that have scattered and fled

Now go to another place

Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

2 daughter red

Lyricism requires choosing dirt to plant. Exhaust spring and autumn

The white horse and the end of the world stood, and you looked back and smiled

I was like a glass of wine waiting to be lifted. Bright moon can be used for lyricism

Your pure smile blossomed and you stretched out your arms

It's like the years of cardamom, the tenderness of passing water

Autumn is coming silently

Look, the rouge on the lips is thick. Peach blossoms are so colorful

Those cheeks were more like the shadows in the wine I held up

The snow in the north fell and spread out

Arrived at the heart. Go ahead and wait for the flames to burn

My daughter's wine was too sweet, so sweet that it flowed slowly like a dream

Crying softly for love, I salute you with water instead of wine

Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

3 Wilderness

I followed the light into the lotus leaf

The lake water swayed the boat. Tenderly kiss your lips like wine

Enter your blue water eyes

Transparent flower buds. I followed the wind and began to sway

Words called acacia are wrapped around

Every day and night alternates between lonely people

I knocked out the bones and made a sound, and I said dear

Pull my black rope out together

Wait for the foot to re-collapse on the horse

Pack up the old mountains and rivers. Let the temperature implant in your body

Embracing, leading hundreds of millions of soldiers to line up to meet

Clothing is made of plants, jelly is brewed from wild fruits, dancers, king's landing.

I entered and watched the jungle full of thorns

I entered, I shouted, in the wilderness

Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

4 into the mountains

The green mountains are snowy, and the dragon groans and the tiger roars away

Wash away the rocks of the world

The sound of the wind is not sick. Dark Moon gazes, who refers to frost flower collarbone.

I was blocked by a burst of piano sounds

Wading willow floating waist. Crane one-legged support

Keep the river going in solitude

My eyes were filled with tears, and the trees looked like me

Watering, grooming.

The heart of the night is pitiful

There are no withered wildflowers standing up for the rain, and the memory is still fresh

As I stood, the snow eventually fell on the side of the mountain

She had melted the pain that was bound to be left behind. Like

The grass revived, and I left a fluttering echo

To the empty mountain, there are birds and finches tired whispers

Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

5 I have stayed in another country

Thatched grass obscures the travelers behind the sunlight

I was thrown by the wind of indulgence at the end of the world

Stop and look out

The strangeness of the world may also bring me the sad sound of nowhere to go

Follow the tracks of the green train to see the rain under your feet

Thousands of unruly whiskers replace me and always go ahead

I have seen all the flowers and dead branches in middle age

There is no bitter pain in the heart

Forgive those who covet red dust

My footprints have no wind and frost to meet the sun

I live

I live among all the plants that die in the spring

I saw clearly the rotting fallen leaves

I moisturize my throat with a cup of clear tea

Feeding acacia with his hometown moon, I hugged

Penetrating the body the wind surged my blood

Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

6 I hold Suishan and think of you

Suishan lives like a dream goddess

Rain comes intertwined with empty dreams

Your footsteps are in front of the rain

I hid behind them and stared

From Taipeng Mountain, it is possible to look at Xiyue Lake

Sometimes day and night alternate with rain

A little bit of color hurts on the ground

Shout softly, dear I hurt

I pulled the quilt tight and the leaves drifted down

I lifted my glass and the light was slipping

I was partying with the rain, and the people were almost crazy

Sit and talk to the shadow in the mirror

I close my heart

The life of rain intertwined boiled over

Fish-like jumps in front of me

Carefully I looked for fish in the rain

From Taipeng Mountain from Xiyue Lake to the top of the White Pagoda

I'm from the previous station of Lang Shui

Now the North Gate River is far away

The rain of the past has sheltered me

I hug Suishan and think of you

Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

7 I was drunk on my own

Swallow the sun and the moon, a glass of wine is enough. Stumbling like shadows, the trees singing and dancing alone

The fierce wind threw the prodigal son and embraced the end of the world

The horse wants to stop

Tighten the reins and stop between the cliffs

Look toward the roots of the fallen leaves. Withered yellow transforms, frosted leaves

Puzzled, squeezed spring water gushed out. Shouting stopped deep in the mountains

The peaks are hidden, and watch the birds and finches rising in the air fall into the jungle

Inside me was a suppressed flame, and her red lips were smoked

After the withering autumn, I saw the bare trees. rivers

Who do you want to take away

Leave that fishing song for spring

The cry grew weaker, borrowing the bones of tiredness and sorrow

Give a note to the warm and cold days

Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

8 gorgeous turns just ten years

Autumn night rain hits plantains. The rubble of the old garden flipped, every lamp

All hanging, tung oil squeezed repeatedly

The distance is lighted with the tip of the pen

It takes a sunny day, take a long look, and rise up for Sichuan and Chongqing

Put the firewood into the stove and take out the homemade chili peppers

Scalding the texture of the carving of the old wine jar

We can name it peach blossom, pear blossom, or plum blossom

Bloom just like you

A total of eight people lifted the palanquin

When you walk through other places, you can look at the moonlight and the days of lack

Change of name and change of ownership

Tick off the family tree.

Pinch your fingers for ten years, but turn around gorgeously.

Quinoa: A slightly cool memory of your fingertips, as you leave behind seeds of love

About author:Xiang Junying, pen name: Quinoa, born in 1982, a native of Yingshan County, Nanchong, Sichuan, lives in Xi'an, Shaanxi. Editor of Yingshan Literary and Art Poetry, Chairman of Yingshan Youth Network Writers Association, Deputy Secretary-General of New Grace Poetry Association, and one of the representative poets of Sun Poetry Journal. In 2008, he began to write poetry, and his works have appeared in various journals and anthologies. He is the author of the poetry collection "Selected Poems of Quinoa" and the novel "Cold Rain Window".

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