After my palm was damaged,

A pair of strange eyes stared at me,

I was scared, I was terrified, and I couldn't believe that my palm would be broken.

I'm sad, I'm sorry, how could my palms be like this.

A devil's voice cried out, "Come in, and I'll heal you!"

Broken hands! I'm willing to compensate again,

But how could I bear to give away my heart?

The heart is beating, the pulse is vibrating, the broken palm is shaking,

The pain drove me closer to the cave,

Sober, sober! The God of life began to cry out,

A high-pitched voice said slowly:

- Hold back, I'll make up for your broken palm,

I didn't dare to answer, just stared blankly;

I don't know when the damp mind will dry,

Damaged palms, when will they be compensated.

But I firmly believe that only by holding back will I be compensated, truly compensated!

Chapter 064 of "Ma Ping'an Poems": Vernacular poems My broken palm is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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