Unable to cover, the wind howl in my heart
Wind howls everywhere, a human-like silhouette awkwardly emerges
The house hasn’t changed a bit for dozens of years, firewood dodges wind and faces the sun
Also facing the sun, are the fallen mottled dirt and ashes
Ask for a bit glorious fiction from the dreams in the early days
A life filled with pride, or disappointment
Ecstasy becomes aesthetics of ethics
This stretch of land stores the wind howl over the years
Sorrow is littered everywhere for it’s cheap
We don’t rely on words to talk about life, life’s an decoration
Always quieter than wind howl
Years later, one person is appointed to bury me
These years, I occasionally think about death
Take make-a-living
As merely a habit
捂不紧，内心的风声
余秀华
风声四起，一个人的模样出现得蹩脚
房子几十年不变一下，柴禾背风向阳
向阳的还有，斑驳而落的泥灰
向早年的梦要一点华丽的虚构
人生得意，或不得意
尽欢成为道德的审美
这个地带积累着长年累月的风声
忧伤因为廉价而扔得到处都是
我们不靠词语言说日子，生活是一种修饰
一直低于风声
多年后，一个埋我的人被指定
这些年，我偶尔想一想死亡的事情
把活着
当成了一种习惯
