In the complex world, Liu Chuan drew a round of bright moon on earth
Text/Ichikawa
That small and tight metaphor seems to have innumerable human wisdom in the text. In the four- and five-character branches, the flowing musical sense can be discerned, and each syllable in it is striving for the survival of man, and the grasp of the virtual reality in it makes the whole text full of light and flexible power. The perspective of this writing is not looking up or down, but an equal level view, a sense of head-up that makes the humble man self-sufficient, the impetuous man restrained, and the spirit of the man who dwells together in the middle of heaven and earth, rather than being suppressed by divine morality.
This is the most precious thing about Liu Chuan's works. He often reads out some Zen meanings of a simple thing and carefully perceives it according to the practice of life. A hint of silence meets ants and moss in the middle of no man's winter, and the gentle warm sun is shining in the wilderness and cold forest, which is exactly the compassion of the silent, "Pick up a cemetery / Be a comb / Use its rows of neat tombstones / Comb a comb the students running around the playground / Comb the crowded citizens in the square / Comb the chaotic vendors in the market / Just a light comb / They are incomparably neat" Insight is tiny, looking at the world, choosing the small between the big and the small, choosing the weak between the strong and the weak. Liu Chuan's text is not a cluster of torches that make climbers yearn for it, and make people at the bottom step on it, but just some glimmers, just sticking to the most ordinary place to move.
Such a moving is that "the enemy and the bright moon" are "country" and "home" is a sense of consternation after constant metaphor and constant comparison, and it is the pain of a one-dimensional person in the world. This kind of gentle pain hurts people for a long time in the dark, but reading in the sun will only make you smile, which is a simple and bright wake-up call for fine needles to slide into the body.
"The sufferer and I are at the same time against this blue sky" is the synaesthesia of Liu Chuan's poetry back to the body, it is clear that life and death come from the soil, where is this objectively existing joy and sadness left? As if there was no way to know, he simply told others in a simple and light-hearted way, "It could be this, yes, this." The text he proposed unfolded in a mundane way, so ordinary that it was almost forgotten.
The priced "name tag" walked past him, and he never saw anyone he knew anymore. Such a simple thing has not been remembered for a long time, forgetting has been planted over the cities and villages, and meaning is being crowded by markets and collectives to the point of no time to take care of.
The bright light like a child will always bring the bees back, hoping that there will be more and more bees like this, hoping that the real sweetness will not be deprived of the sweetness of industry again. Hopefully, just saying, "We all have the same round of bright moon," will disintegrate the falsehood and violence between people and groups. Such an understanding is full of revelation in today's society.
There is also sadness, the sadness that follows the faint hope, from which a real polyphony of "The Ancient Night / Still Nothing Is Born" unfolds, as an accent of the text, a sigh in the face of the worldly lag, a sigh as a "midwife", which will be a way home between hope and despair. It is a discussion of one belief versus another.
Attached is Liu Chuan's poems
night
It's like a huge success
Caesarean section surgery
Click
A bolt of lightning
Put the pitch black night
Cut a hole
afterwards
Cracks close again
It's like a wound suturing surgery
One night
I watched the surgery go through repeatedly
I'm on paper
Calm, objective, slightly sadly
Recorded below -
Ancient night
Still nothing was born
See the moon in a big lonely city
Nor on the moon
My relatives and friends
Why am I
Look at it over and over again
Nor on the moon
Your family members
Why do you
Watch it over and over again
Once, I was with an enemy
There was a fight
When I look at the moon
Find him
Also watching the moon
The hatred in my heart
All of a sudden, it was all gone
countryside
The country and me
It doesn't matter much
I couldn't get rid of it
There's me there
A cemetery
Not big, not too small
I curled up
Infants in general
It swaddles
Just fit it
Liu Chuan, born in 1975, is a newcomer in Fuxin, Liaoning. Published poetry collections "Saving the Train", "On the Street", "Playing with Dog Sticks", "Selected Poems of Liu Chuan", "Clouds of the Western Sky" and so on. Some works have been translated into English and Japanese. He has won the first Xu Zhimo Poetry Award, the Young Poet Award, and the People's Literature Award. He is the author of "Three Hundred Contemporary Poetry Appreciation Reviews" and "Five Absolute Readings since Modern Times". He lives in Shenyang and is the editor-in-chief of Poetry Tide magazine.
Yichuan, a well-known poetry critic and poet, whose works have appeared in newspapers and poetry anthologies such as "Stars", "Yangtze River Poetry Journal", "Poetry Tide", "Yalu River", "People's Liberation Army Daily", "People's Armed Police Alarm" and other newspapers and poetry anthologies.