What are Sanmao s poems about Sanmao s poems

You're welcome, thank you, Mr. Zhang.

There are mainly stories of the Sahara, crying camels, gentle nights, how much do you know about the flowers in your dreams, the rainy season will not come again, thousands of rivers and mountains will be traveled, and scarecrow notes.

Sanmao (March 26, 1943 - January 4, 1991), whose real name is Chen Ping, was born in Dinghai District, Zhoushan City, Zhejiang, and was born in Huang Jueya, Nan'an District, Chongqing, a contemporary female writer and traveler from Taiwan, China.

In 1967, he traveled to Spain, Germany, and the United States, and wrote a collection of essays on scattered oranges, "The Rainy Season Doesn't Come Again". In 1973, he settled in the Spanish Sahara Desert and subsequently married Jose.

Family:

Sanmao's original name was Chen Maoping, "Mao" is the ranking of her generation on the genealogy, and "Ping" means peace, but because he can't learn how to write the word "Mao", Sanmao omitted the word "Mao" when he wrote his name, and finally changed his name to Chen Ping. Sanmao's father, Chen Siqing, is a lawyer, and her mother's name is Miao Jinlan.

Sanmao is the second in the family, she has an older sister Chen Tianxin who is three years older than her, and two younger brothers Chen Sheng and Chen Jie.

Verses of Sanmao Changna.

1. [Olive Tree].

Don't ask me from **.

My hometown is far away.

Why wandering.

Wandering far away. Stray.

For the birds that fly in the sky.

For a creek that flows lightly in the mountains.

For the sake of the wide steppe.

Wandering far away, wandering.

And there is.

For the olive tree of dreams.

Don't ask me to bring potatoes from.

My hometown is far away.

Why wandering.

Why wander far away.

For the olive tree of dreams.

Don't ask me from **.

My hometown is far away.

Why wandering.

Wandering far away. 2. [If there is an afterlife].

If there is an afterlife, make a tree.

Stand for eternity. There is no posture of joy and sorrow.

Half in the dust.

Half of it was blowing in the wind.

Half sprinkled with shade.

Half soaked in the sun.

Very silent, very proud.

Never rely on nuclear trade, never look for.

If there is an afterlife, it will turn into a gust of wind.

An instant can become an eternity.

There are no sentimental feelings.

There are no amorous eyes.

Half of it was free and easy in the rain.

Half of them traveled in the spring light.

Lonely and lonely to travel far away.

Take away the faint thoughts.

Never miss, never love.

If there is an afterlife, be a bird.

Flying over eternity without the distress of getting lost.

There is a fiery hope in the east and a warm nest bed in the south.

Retreat the remnant sun to the west and awaken the fragrance to the north.

If there is an afterlife.

Hope for every encounter.

can be turned into eternity.

If there is an afterlife.

- Sanmao. If there is an afterlife, be a tree and stand for eternity. There is no posture of joy and sorrow, half in the dust and half in the wind;

Half in shade, half in the sun.

Very silent, very proud.

Never rely on, never seek.

If there is an afterlife, it will turn into a gust of wind, and it can become eternal in an instant.

There are no sentimental feelings, no amorous eyes.

Half in the rain, half in the spring;

lonely, go on a long journey alone, take away the faint thoughts, never miss or love;

If there is an afterlife, be a bird and fly through eternity, without the distress of being lost.

There is a fiery hope in the east, a warm nest bed in the south, a remnant sun in the west, and a fragrance awakened in the north.

If there is an afterlife, I hope that every time we meet, it will be eternal.

Olive. Don't ask me where I'm from.

My hometown is far away.

Why wandering?

Wandering in the distance, searching for the wandering.

For the birds that fly in the sky.

For a creek that flows lightly in the mountains.

For the sake of the wide steppe.

Wandering far away, wandering.

And there is. For the olive tree of dreams, olive trees.

Don't ask me where I'm from.

My hometown is far away.

Why wander.

Why wander far away.

For the olive tree of my dreams.

Yumeda. Everyone has an acre of land in their hearts.

Everyone has a dream in their hearts.

One by one, one by one.

It's an acre of land in my heart.

What to grow with it.

What to grow with it.

Plant peaches, plums, and spring breezes.

The pear blossoms are blooming and spring is coming again.

That's an acre of land in my heart.

It was a dream in my heart that I never woke up.

I am honest and happy.

You ask me what I pursue, and I think what I pursue is to know my own life.

I love life.

You ask me what I am pursuing, and I believe that what I am pursuing in this life is the burning of life, and in this life, I can get some crystallization, not a pile of ashes.

I believe in eternal life, and this expectation of the next life gives me the strength to live well and happily on my own.

I know how precious this life is, and I want to live a good life, and I must live a happy life.

I am honest and happy.

Desert. The nostalgia of the previous life spreads out in front of me, ah, - a cloth of yellow sand, when I am I, firmly bound by the Xuanhuang of this heaven and earth, the drifting heart, here slowly, slowly falling into the dust together.

The howling wind swept away the way back, and the earth handed over its secrets, and then the desert was no longer a desert, and the desert turned into a well, and inside the well, a pair of water eyes swayed a smile.

The moon flowers slowly climb the wall, the moss is faster than it, and the little white flowers are my eternal stars.

For many years, the night can not pass the front wide, when the galaxy on the loom, weaving, weaving, weaving the boat across the river.

Someone always came to ask me about my wedding date, and I said that after weaving, it would bloom again, and again, and again, and again, and then it was time.