A poem
How i hope there is a doorway
In the morning, the sun shines on the grass
We stand
Holding one’s own door leaf
The door is low, but the sun is bright
The grass is bearing its seeds
The wind is shaking its leaves
We stand without talking
It’s very beautiful
There is a door, you don’t need to open it
It’s ours, it’s very beautiful
In the morning, the night is still wandering
We give him the Liuxian Qin
We are not going
We need land
Need a land that will never be destroyed
We have to ride it
Spend a lifetime
The land is rough and sometimes narrow
However, it has history
There is a sky, a moon
A dew and morning
We love the land
We stand
Digging the dirt with wooden shoes
The door is getting hot
We leaned gently, very beautiful
Grass behind the wall
Won’t grow up anymore
It only uses fingertips to touch the sun
