Three songs outside "Beyond Beauty".

"Poet Samurai"

Pushing the old wagon, the wind drifted into his pocket

He doesn't say anything, what is there to say, people are different

His heart is still changing, my house, on the tip of his gaze

Mouse, I would think of a mouse and its kindness

In the midst of the storm, the tearing of newspapers was heard

Your Indian coffee, I heard it comes from the stomach of an elephant

The soul is thin, and it is giving birth to something

Spring flows slowly, the white light in front of my window

Reminds me of those days on the tip of a knife, sir

You don't know what I'm passionate about, the sword or the knife

And my poems are piercing deep into your chest

"Fake Poetry"

And I want to keep cleaning that pot

After lighting the candles, dear ones, I will open the album

My heart was secretly broken, twice

The dark blue twice, the sun has said, it is nothing

The bird enthusiastically returned to my roof, and the white snow melted

On the ground are the traces of its thoughts

I don't think you're gone, not at all

And my poems, still golden, with fourteen claws

Many people on the road stared straight into the full reality

The wind is flowing under my hands, and you don't want to see it

No one said what it was, some said it was a bone

Some people say it's a thorn, and it has nothing to do with poetry anyway

"Beyond Beauty"

You said I'm not too young and should look for it

The other half of your body, the stone falls to the ground

Rolling silently alone, ribs melted in the dust

With that white floater in the sky

Who would have thought that she was alone, and the sun chased her

She said that the days were sick and her teeth were stained

The times of stomach problems, she resented her husband

I wondered if there would be someone behind me in my novel

Time slow down, you're one of my fantasies

Throwing a spear of nothingness into my dreams

Flocks of birds and the young trees flying on the road

You will definitely stop and kick the shadow on the ground

I would scold, under a woman's window, and curse in a whisper......

And none of this is allowed outside of beauty

March 3

She had said write to me, the content of the letter

It is stained with rich emotions and gorgeous clothes

Someone told me about my heart and the chapters inside

I don't know, the room is already old in the wind

You may be one of my fantasies

Or maybe not, the door closed quietly, followed by a distant bell

It's the kind of thing that sways outside the window

The city is filled with the fog of time

The wind wakes up the sleeping branches, and I still have to think

What can you think about outside of those time and space, isn't it just a fluttering reed?

With petals under the reeds, the skirt of a girl from northern Shaanxi

Time flashed and the man was smoking outside the window

I could hear my veins, with the hungry mosquito

And you are in my dream, asleep and still not awake