Qilu Memories of the Old House

Qilv? Memories of the old house

I used to live on the side of the national highway,

spending my childhood in two low houses.

The walls are covered with smoke and dust, and

the wind blows and cobwebs hang in the corridors.

After several inspections, the house leaked again,

After several shovelings and mowing, the grass was still fresh.

Just because I immigrated to Zhuku,

I often lament my pity in my dreams.

Qilu Homesickness

Climbing the stairs alone with a pot of turbid wine,

Drunken eyes can see through thousands of miles of autumn.

The cloud peaks of Nanyue are faintly visible,

The clear water of Xiangjiang River flows leisurely.

The sound of wild geese flying away is faint,

The light and rhyme of falling leaves remains.

The silver hair on the temples is still like a dream,

The handrail reminds me of Yin Jiazhou again.

Yin Jiazhou: Where he lived before he was six years old