二月的小桃子
I am a willful boyor rather a spoiled oneI’m waywardand I hopeevery momentto be as colorful as crayonsI hopeI could paint on my cherished paperdraw a clumsy freedomand an eyenever shedding tearsa piece of skyand its beloved feather and leavesa pea-green nightand an appleI’d like to draw a sunny morningsome drew dropsand the smile that they could seedraw all the youngest painless loveand my sweetheart in dreamsshe’s never seen dark cloudsand her eyesas sunny as that morningsticking on menever missednever turn awayand never willI want to draw the distant landscapethe plain horizon and wavesmany many happiest streamsand hillsfluffy and grassyclose to each otherfall in loveevery acquiescenceand every year when serene spring awakebe a birthday of a bunch of wee rosesI’m eager to draw the futureI’ve never met her and I can’tbut I know her beautyI will draw her flapping skirt in falldraw those flickering candle flames and maple leavesand those shivering hopesfor herdraw a weddingand those exciting holidaysone by onewith several plastic candy wrappersand pictures of the Northland fairytalesI’m a willful boyI desire to erase all the sufferingsand draw a window on every acres of the earthto illuminate all the darkness in our eyesI’m desperate to draw the windthe mountains and the highersthe dreams of an eastern nationand the immense seaFinallyI wish I could find margins for myselfand a little tree bearsitting on a branch of a quiet oakstaring into spaceno home for himand no wandering heartonly many many acornsdreamsand big big eyesI’m hopingponderingbut I have no crayonsno colorful time for myselfonly Imy fingers and painstearing up all the blank paperflyingwith butterfliesand disappear into nothingI am a boyspoiled by Mom ImaginationIwayward
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