Attention, let poetry light up life
Ah Xin, a native of Lintao, Gansu, has been working and living in the Tibetan area of Gannan for a long time. He is the author of "The Poems of Ashin", "Meadow Poems", "Those Years, by the Sando River" and many other poetry collections. Participated in the 14th Youth Poetry Festival. He has won the Xu Zhimo Poetry Award (2015), the Western Literature Award (2016), the "Top Ten Good Poems" in China (2017), the Changyao Poetry Award (2018) and other awards.
Snow Mountain Ballad
O snowy mountains,
Only when looking up at you, that is a heavy milk bucket
The silhouette of a ricket pressing against the earth
to straighten again.
dawn
The soul of the grass and trees, frozen in ice
If they have souls.
Almost transparent.
The marks of the divine will are intact.
What about the lips of the sheep that lightly touched the cheek?
What about the sniffles of a green horse whose lips are stained with juice?
star
One by one, they are extinguished.
Hazy skyline
Hidden Scale -
Harvest their memories in the dullness of dawn.
The herd of elephants went north
The elephant herd is silent...
Elephants loom in the broadleaf and river valleys of the southern canyon.
Snowflakes melt at a speed visible to the naked eye. Elephant back
Wet.
The herd of elephants moved, driving a large area of red land
And the sugarcane forest above, the bud valley... Move together.
The baby elephant that broke away from the herd made the whole continent tugging at its heart.
I spent the night preparing in the north of the continent.
Snow fills the air: the northern continent is shrouded in a thicket.
Bugs chirping
Insects chirp in the ears.
I don't know what kind of bug it is. Don't know why?
Faintly felt, in the roar of autumn insects
A starry sky pouring down towards the valley.
At the bottom of the valley, the old wooden staircase of the Twin Rivers Inn, made a soft noise.
Blizzard
The center of the plateau: a stone palace.
There was a flock of rapping black crows discussing the bad weather outside.
The air collapsed in large areas. The sea is perimeter of the ocean
Spit foam.
The light in the forest is getting dimmer and dimmer. Manuscripts are scattered.
The planks creaked.
The barn, which was surrounded by large livestock, collapsed not far away.
The wind rolls up leaves, crows, gravel, screams...
Pour the big funnel into the sky:
A giant cedar
Rise up. The piano was repeatedly struck by a pair of hands.
tunnel
It was only after passing that I realized it was real.
The car drove far away, and the tunnel remained in the belly of the Dark Mountain
Squirming, swelling, growing alone...
- It's like being abandoned, constantly amplifying
Our mistake.
It swallowed Blizzard and spat out us: towards
The unsheltered wilderness of the north.
Crows and snow-capped mountains
A crow turned its back on me, facing the snowy mountains.
- Black crow, pure black, cast iron like no impurities.
A huge book of snow-capped mountains opens to it——
Little Shami was deeply immersed in daily lessons; the old priest in charge of explaining the laws and order of the universe, like an iron rod
The pestle is there!
The breath of the snow-capped mountains is mysterious and huge.
From my point of view, the snowy mountains are more like a huge secret -
The crow's plutonium print, put it
Tightly
Sealed.
October
What does it matter if you write or not? October is back.
October piled up a lot on the rocks of my body; October
Leaving my body would knock the eagle's leg bone back.
Summon the dove on the grass, the light frost, the horse
The belly strands were splashed wet with horses... Flowing water,
What's not to remember in October? What else
Can't give up?
Watch the carriage drive into the burning canyon.
What does it matter if you sing or not? Hands in the wind
loosen. I can't hold it:
The Tibetan autumn breeze that carries full seeds and cold snow grains.
In 1990
A low-lying town, soaked in rainwater.
The surrounding grasslands are covered in snow.
Night trucks pass by, their headlights like a big tail
Sweep over the dark belly of the prairie. The fenders of the car
Wrapped in a thick layer of ice and snow.
I closed my eyes, but I didn't sleep.
I was wrapped in a smelly quilt and curled up
The town west inn was damp and the bed board.
"I used to be like this, listening to the rain on the plateau,
Sit in silence until dawn. ”
- I was touched by myself,
My body trembled slightly
On the prairie where there is no starlight and no comfort.
orchard
The fruit of the apple tree does not grow on the branches but floats in the air.
One by one, suspended, in
Silver Waves of Moonlight.
Mountain rain falls. Sparse raindrops
Stained on the eyelashes; subsequently, suddenly like a horse's hoof.
...... Quiet fruit all around, snowflakes
Scattered in the air, as bright as fireworks.
A child stands under a tree for a long time with clear eyes.
An old man, cloudy inside the lens
Hidden in an orchard deep in the depths of time.
Letter to Friends
1 Mountain monk? According to Shi Fuqin's madman?
A ripe wild persimmon.
Good brain shell, big body
How much mountain and river gold to put in it?
What threshold of earthly and clear space is there?
Only in this way can this be achieved
Warm and innocent.
2 Discern the way in the depths of the fireworks. In the last Miri
Say goodnight.
And go to the forest to drink tea, listen to the pine needles one by one landing.
And go to the snow to wash the horses, and bow your head to tidy up the yoke.
The wine bottle is not empty, and it is warm as jade.
The years do not live, the affection is like a si.
3 Gray hair will find you. Yes
Twilight light, traveling through time
Come among us.
At that moment, in the tea house on the bank of the Yellow River, we were
Fall silent.
What are we talking about?
Between us, what wedges in?
Undetected.
White porcelain in hand.
Hands, slowly turning into white bones.
White Horse
------------------
Among the guns
Out of the crowd
First two ears, half a head, one
Complete face. Then there is the streamlined back and gluteal tail
In a gushing black back
and above the hips. Finally
Between the neck and legs
Preconsceptic muscles
Rocks generally roll
Beautiful things, never
Disappointing
Among the horses, at least one
It suited our imagination
Pure color
Elegant lines
Flowing long mane
Noble eyes
As if coming from a dark tunnel
The white horse appeared and turned himself
Distinguished from Gunma
It always draws our attention
Drive the herd of horses
and the surrounding scenery
Last time in Gannan Maqu, this time
At the foot of the Tianshan Mountains
The lake shimmers, the meadows undulate, and the sky is far away
It echoes the white horse in our bodies
Nature around you
A letter
"For many years I have retained the habit of observing the sunset." This is the first sentence of my poem "Sunset Studies", written without heart and thought, but now when I turn it out, I am secretly frightened by it--the poem is like a daily and a thing around me, which has long been rested there, full of floating dust, waiting for a hand that has passed through the years, gently picking it up, or waking it up. When you are in the countryside or by the river, watching the sunset, what do you appreciate is not only the lonely one in front of you? The countless specimens of the "sunset" that have been experienced and accumulated throughout my life and the things associated with them will suddenly emerge at this moment.
Not only "sunset", think about how many things I have focused on over the years? I suspect that I spend more time in the surrounding nature than in doing other things, at least with a much greater interest in nature than in people. The grass and trees sealed in the ice, the almost transparent veins of stems and leaves, the sound of "jade shattering" that shakes people's hearts under the touch, the humble and ubiquitous, fragile and tenacious life on the naked plain... An expression of "speechlessness" is worth a thousand words. It is difficult to obtain its true meaning, you must be immersed, focused, and concentrated, you must lean down, so that life and nature are in the same position, even lower than the grass and trees, the grass and trees will be close to your ears, quietly telling you the secrets of their lives.
Gannan's life taught me the following: in the face of nature, man must not act arbitrarily; man must fear the nature and existence around him; man must have a deep reverence and gratitude for the life (including plants and animals) that may meet in the earth that feeds them and in the endless cycle of life; life can be minimalist and the soul must be filled.
I once had the experience of being inspired by a mysterious field and opening my body in an instant. That year, I traveled to the Sankoh grasslands of the Summer River, staying at night in an old cow hair tent in the saddle of a mountain beam in the summer pasture. One night I lost sleep, closed my eyes and listened to the sounds around me: the sound of the flames peeling in the hearth, the heavy snoring of his friend, the sound of his lover Le Mauji turning over, the light and thin breathing of his young child, the occasional sound or two of dog barking outside the tent... On the mountain beams around the tents, sheep and yaks lie crouched. Suddenly, I heard a voice, small and fragmented, but endless, spreading between heaven and earth. I opened my eyes, and through the gap in the cow hair tent, I saw that the sky was drifting snow, and a meteor was slanting across the sky, illuminating everything in front of me. The sensation at that moment was wonderful, and the organs of my body were all opened, receiving mysterious messages from the depths of the universe: I did not only hear the sound of falling snow, I believe I also heard the sound of meteors falling to the ground, the scattered petals of meteors, implanting a strange silence into the eyes of the next ewe in the thin snow.
Not only man, but all things are natural in nature. The humble creatures of nature, each glowing with light, have dignity.
The poet is not only a "peacemaker" between man and nature, the poet has the obligation to tell the secrets he has discovered from nature to those around him.
Excerpted from Poetry Journal, No. 2, 2022
Editor: Wang Aofei, Second Instance: Niu Li, Final Judge: Jin Shikai