我喜欢罂粟花，是因为读了普拉斯的诗
Poppies in July
——Sylvia Plath
Little poppies, little hell flames,
Do you do no harm?
You flicker. I cannot touch you.
I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns.
And it exhausts me to watch you
Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.
A mouth just bloodied.
Little bloody skirts!
There are fumes that I cannot touch.
·Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules?
If I could bleed, or sleep!
If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!
Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule,
Dulling and stilling.
But colorless. Colorless.
有一天，到农场去买鸡蛋，远远看到了盛开的火红的罂粟花，
“太美了，不一样的美”我在心中感叹，
从那天开始，罂粟花就长在了心里。
买了几株种到花园，却不见花开。
没有鲜艳的罂粟花儿装扮美丽花瓶，
等待明年吧！
跨坛老朋友们夏天快乐，会想你们。
