The Awakened Revival

All seems to be started from the waste land

We staggered on our homeless land

With a faithful plan

Which we shall never aband

But when came the snowstorm from Siberia

When the whisperer of the late fall disappeared in your insomnia

You turned into photophobia

During which you were dreaming of euthanasia

Then no one knew it took how long

The sun stuck out his freezing white tongue

Removed our freeze from then on

Broke our dreams that warm and long

Your banner and your blade

Flowers’ bloom and fade

Wake you up from the winter during your wade

Wake up, no more shade

Bright Blue (A Chinese poet.)

Dedicated to The Awakened-Revival Literature Club (ARLC) of USTC.

Original: 惊蛰


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