ESL Blogs

In the silence, I nagging to myself that I have to be strong, deal with suffering as a man, in the quiet permanence, I seem seeing that quiet champaign, on the broad dry soil land, those shrivel branches, hays, and all just grown bullheaded fateful green buds, I'm thinking that desolate river, and the feet prints of lone wolf, those horizon flying birds, crying sadness in exhausted flying, just like my entire body and soul, be soaked out for sorrow, I am recalling that forgotten tune, and never thought up lyric, the melody of being sang from a dying body. My so fresh air, and the smell of the soil in the feild that enclosing me, in the died silence frozen space, shapes me into a haggard image, just stays in it's place. Where the Spring blows from? where the wet breeze comes from? Where it comes from that the light dyeing my body into red? when I glanced so beautiful painting which is painted by sunset, in my eyes another time, the tear is full, where the groan comes from? and where the clamour comes from? that seem to transmit from too far skyline, be heard in faint, that is my memory, writhing in my heart, one by another times, press the bitter water to my gullet. I go back, I'm step into the road of back, how far is this road, I do not know forever, I passed the ground, I passed the acrossed the skyline, I went by so many villages, I had seen the light of beyond, close to them and then leave far from them, my steps seem to forget exhaustion, can not stop them, where is my home? I have no home, never, and no relatives, only myself. In the silence I narrate to my loved cat, never ended language, I want to tell her how is my love for her, but she doen't understand my language.