一首旅途中所作的英文诗歌，献给厦门的鸟友们，放飞我的心灵······ 主题选项

[护鸟使者]

Is there any yellow ribbon in Boston
I’m waiting on the 34th Street outside Station Penn,
the sunrise dress all the buildings in golden.
The Wind in New York bet on my face,
Which made it lost its direction.

At the right time the needles both toward the ground,
I get on the bus and leave for Boston.
We traveling under the sun is the east,
Everything run back swiftly on the street.

Trip in the clean carrige has no pall,.
Passengers in the bus smile as the sun on shore.
Maybe I am waiting for someone,
But my face seems a little wane.

After we drive onto the express way,
The color outside is only green.
Migrating birds draw an arc in the clouds,
Which made Vingo’s heart was hidden.

I don’t believe there is any jail in the world,
Everybody can lives happily and freedom who I have met at least.
However criticizes and subtilties crowd the earth,
In fact the earth is just a great prison.

When the bell on the top of the tower rings ten,
I will go through the avenues with oak trees in Boston.
I don’t care anything if you forgiven,
I wonder whether there are any oak trees with yellow ribbons.

By Wentao Liu,
MAY 23, 2009, in Boston, USA