I am an unfilial son.
Author: Mo Yan
Watch you take your last breath.
Tears in my eyes
I am somewhat relieved.
Stopped breathing hard.
The wrinkles spread out and a smile appeared.
Crying and laughing.
So there is a mixture of sadness and joy.
I am an unfilial son.
Dad, you said
No gratitude, no father and son
I once described a slap in the face in 800 words.
Your palm is like an ancient musical instrument.
Still like a timid little animal.
The sound matches the sonic boom of the plane.
Let the swallows hit the wall, and the window paper will tremble.
Although it's all fiction
But the pain is unbearable
This is my explosion.
The literary world shook at that time.
Now it's gone
spirality
I am an unfilial son.
Dad, you said
No enemies, no father, no children.
Face your body
I saw a baby.
The skin is pink and tender, crying loudly.
From a tree-climbing urchin to a shy groom.
From civilians delivering rations to carpenters making ladders.
From bending to crawling.
Let the son tremble with a cough.
Walking on my grandson's back.
In the scream of shrapnel
In the metaphor of sorghum,
Among the white cotton and golden wheat ears
In the whine of cows and the roar of harvesters
What can and can't be said.
Between hungry fart and full burp
In the change of light and shadow
Ninety-six years passed quickly.
I am an unfilial son.
Dad, you said
Tiger poison does not eat parents.
I always remember those
Unfinished story
The big temper of those little people
The tricks of those big shots
Those foxes' red lanterns
Southerners who can read feng shui
Outside the window, it is wrapped in white, with a red skirt at the bottom of the cylinder.
A shadowless person, a singing horse.
Pomegranate tree that was scolded to death
Browning pistol in cow's belly
Confession under duress
You are a master storyteller.
I am an unfilial son.
Dad, you said
How can a tiger father have a son?
You have been sighing all your life.
Only about 80 thousand Jin of grain was produced
Dad, this is a great achievement.
Besides, there are cotton and vegetables.
Dig rivers and build roads
There are many aphorisms:
Bad people never repent, but force them to repent.
Those who repent are good people who have done bad things.
It's not terrible to know that you are not good.
What is terrible is the bad guys who think they are good people.
Only the victims know how bad the bad guys are.
Only people who have been smeared with shit know that shit stinks.
Only people who have been bitten by dogs know that dogs are cruel.
Most good people don't live long.
Because he often feels guilty.
Evil spirits see sorrow, but they refuse to accept it.
Talk less and go to the market less.
Try not to peel sweet potatoes.
Raising parents as children is called filial piety.
I am an unfilial son.
Dad, you said
Even Cao will have a son like this.
You went to a private school.
Look at the Three Kingdoms and the Water Margin.
Write a beautiful hand
But because of a cousin who went to Taiwan Province province.
Can only farm at home.
Everything is born on the earth.
Land is our lifeblood.
You are a national first-class farmer (my seal)
Enjoy agricultural tax relief in the State Council.
You are a sorghum in the sorghum field.
Fathers in the father group
It's a long poem and a string of sighs.
A belief, a memory
Think about calling your mother before you die.
Tears welled up in my eyes
I will call my mother before I die.
In the meantime, I will call my father.
I am an unfilial son.
Dad, if there is an afterlife.
I will be your son.
May 10? Mo Yan
(Mo Yan Shu)