Love

Author: Shen Hao
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2003-09-01
Features: This is a I wrote at the end of my youth, on the pages of "City Express." Written in haste, it looks like a pile of fallen leaves drifting in the wind. But I consider it a pile of wild grass. Since I never planned to harvest it, I planted it carelessly and untimely. When it suddenly sprouted in spring, it seemed reluctant. However, mixed among the wild grass were wildflowers. Due to the haste of harvesting, it was even more untimely, so I cut them all together. After slightly drying them, I bundled them into a roll—this is what I present before you. On the other hand, deep down in my heart, I had already milled the wild grass into grass seeds and stuffed them into my pillow, offering them to myself, to the night, and to dreams.