In the deserted grassland,

I am alone in the ravages of the wind,

The heart is cold,

The hands are cold,

The exhaled breath is also cold.

Suddenly realized that life was very fragile,

Can't withstand the slightest wind and rain.

But I live in the wilderness,

There is no life,

There is no hope,

Without love,

There is no ideal.

I don't feel a trace of warmth in the wind,

I'm so scared, so scared,

lest even the only body be eroded by this wind,

Finally disappeared in the ravages of the wind.

Maybe I'm wrong,

But I'm convinced I'm wrong,

Because

I never estimated the strength of the wind,

So terrible,

So terrible.

Chapter 056 of "Ma Ping'an Poems": Vernacular poems The wind of the wasteland is in the hand, please wait a moment,

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