Cui Zimei Literature and Art Studio "Spring Sends You a Poem" themed literary portfolio

Cui Zimei Literature and Art Studio "Spring Sends You a Poem" themed literary portfolio

Photo by Shi Feng

Cui Zimei

His original name was Cui Wei, a native of Zhidan County, Shaanxi. He is a member of the Chinese Writers Association, a member of the Chinese Prose Literature Association, the vice chairman of the Western China Prose Literature Association, and an expert of yan'an social science library. He is the author of six collections of essays and two documentary monographs. His works have been selected as junior high school and high school Chinese extracurricular reading books and mock examination papers for the middle school entrance examination and college entrance examination. Dozens of prose works have been included in various anthologies. He has won the First Western China Prose Award, the 7th Bingxin Prose Award, the 9th Drifting Mother Cup Prose Award, and the 1st Wu Boxiu Prose Award.

Live in the spring

It is said that spring is coming, but there is no ice melting

It is said that the plague god is gone, and the pedestrians are still wearing masks

Flowers that can't see Valentine's Day fill the streets

You can't hear the song of love gushing

The loud noise of the cold wind blowing down blocked the bustle

The sunset was confused, and the clouds removed their colored clothes

But there is still a station ahead of me

Is the magnolia full of bells?

Whether the bird is still alive

Whether that laneway prohibits visitors from other places

I compare myself to migratory geese

In fact, it is more like the brothers of migrant workers

In a hurry, bending down to carry the bags of life

Rushing on the road to welcome spring

Xiao Zhiyuan

Born in 1981 in Zhidan, Shaanxi. Students of the first Luyuan Shaanxi Young and Middle-Aged Writers Training Class. He is a representative of the 16th National Prose and Poetry Pen Association and a special expert of Yan'an Federation of Social Sciences. He is a member of the Shaanxi Writers Association and the vice chairman of the Yan'an Literary and Art Critics Association. His works have appeared in poetry journals, October, Yanhe, Yan'an Literature, Poetry Tide, Prose Poetry, Yellow River Literature, Years and other publications. Selected for the annual anthology of various poems and prose poems. He is the author of the poetry collection "Narrative of Light or Heavy".

In the spring

For some time, sitting in the twilight with a calm mind

Don't want to, and don't do anything

Only when the sun sets, the square is filled with people

This is perhaps the best time of day

Threes, threes, twos and twos came together

Gentle dance steps step into the leisure of music

At this moment, I turned and fled

It is suspected that the steps that are still steady do not listen to the call

Step into the light too soon

What a time when I was accepted

There will also be some days when it will not be tolerated

Out of place, or the meaning of spring wind

Then, follow the riverside road at the beginning of the lantern

Walking alone, I also thought about it

Spring blossoms will have a good scene

So, so think

Fortunately, I still have the heart, and it will take time

Photo by Wang Qin

Lei Tieqin

Pseudonym (Tianqing) was born in Zhidan County, Shaanxi Province. He is a member of Shaanxi Writers Association. His works have been published in newspapers and magazines such as Chinese Writers, Poetry Journal, Yanhe, Green Wind, Yan'an Literature, and Western Essayist. Selected for various anthologies and annual selections. He is the author of the poetry collection "The Mood of Looking Up at a Big Tree".

Spring is coming, and the world is warm

I haven't written poetry in a long time

Life is not dull

Every day is thrilling

It has been a long period of boiling and waiting

Finally greeted his brother who came down from the operating table

He also rescued his sister who was hit by a car on the road of rebirth

To be alive is a fertile word

If you can write it down, you will be full of spring light

Life is so bizarre

I was in tears a moment ago

At this moment, the smiling nurse came up and said: The blood vessels in your brother's heart are unblocked and there is no need for surgery

How many days and how many experts have come to the conclusion of deciphering in an instant

Like a beautiful lie over the top of our heads

If there is another disaster

Will it be woven again

Such fairy tales

When I face it again

It's like facing spring

Spring is here

The world is warm

Photo by Wang Qin

Li Liang

Born in 1981, a native of Zhidan, Shaanxi. He is a student of the Shaanxi Young and Middle-Aged Writers Seminar of Lu Xun Literature College, the text writer and editor of "Zhidan Library and Folk Art Volume", and the cover illustration and painting author of the well-known shaanxi journal "Yanhe" magazine. Essays, poems, and novels can be found in various domestic literary journals.

Spring hunting in the north

It's The New Year. The two words of the first month are themselves an ancient song, and when this word comes out of the mouths of the old people in the north, it looks more idle, more like the original appearance of the first month.

The first month is still a large quilt with the smell of an old cotton cover, covering the feet and head of a year. The New Year is to suddenly kick open one of the legs of the quilt, you can hear the blood flowing under the skin, in February, the quilt will let what hand be removed, the rest of the year will be greatly grinning and naked, and all that is left to do is to stand up and run like the sun and the moon.

The new spring in the north was foggy and chaotic, as if it had not yet woken up, and it was not yet decided whether to come or not. Or maybe the Golden Lock Pass has seized the spring color from the south - the women of Chang'an have their skirts swaying, and the little daughters-in-law who go north and further north of the Golden Lock Pass are still hesitant to wear small cotton jackets and large cotton jackets. The flames and smoke that the burners burned in the ground were equally hesitant.

A large area of yellowish land still looks wooden, and countless dried artemisia grasses stand still. The hearts of the trees had shrunk for a winter, and the bark had just taken on a slightly relaxed look.

The river did not know when it stole a waterway from the ice, but unfortunately, the sound of the kara that came from the bottom of the ice before the big river and the small river thawed was never heard by many people. What a sacred and exciting sound it used to be, but now the ice is less arrogant and boneless, and it is not as thick as the porcelain frozen in previous years. The ice has begun to melt, the joy of ducks and geese splashing in the water is hard to see, and the spring in the north is coming slower and more secretively.

So, where should the Northern Spring go?

Just as I thought about it, the trombone gong and drum sounded overwhelmingly. Suddenly, large and colorful human springs gushed out from the gray heavens and the earth. All the colors are draped on the upper body, all kinds of plastic beads are decorated with all the corners and corners, and the men, women and children in the Song Team all dress themselves up like bright sacrifices.

With firecrackers along the way, these people beat the drum gong like a desperate force, and the cowhide of the drum face should have been knocked unconscious. The whistle-blower's cheeks were constantly inflated by a breath, forcing out a series of high-pitched and bright transliterations. The big cymbals and small cymbals also vibrated rapidly, looking both bouncy and sticky, and the colored silk on the side of the human wrist was also carried away with no emotion.

In the old-fashioned song team, the men beat the waist drum and moved a strangely soft, ape-like step, and the women beat the pure copper small hand gong, swinging their waists and twisting their crotches with a most primitive and bold charm. The woman carrying the water boat, Lotus, moves, making people really feel that the boat is driving on the waves of the miao, and the gongs who follow closely follow must all turn gray, and they shake their heads and paddle their heads to tease the audience. The old man dressed as the old woman had two outturned fake beards between her nostrils, and the old woman dressed as the old man wore a wig bun, the rough skin of the face was painted with red circles, and the ears were hung with large earrings tied with leather bands.

The old woman and the old man were followed by the Eight Precepts of the Pig, Sun Wukong and Ji Gong. The pig's head prop worn by the Eight Precepts of the Pig is completely blackened, and the pig's mouth is also somewhat long, although it is quite rustic, but it is the Eight Precepts at a glance. Sun Wukong was a little more advanced, and he didn't know where to buy a hood covered with yellow hair directly on his head, revealing only two timid eyes, which turned out to be a thin girl. Ji Gong dressed up most like, a thin man crazy and crazy shaking the fan, holding the bottle in one hand, from time to time to pick up a small sip, do not know whether there is really wine in the bottle.

At the end of the line were the big-headed dolls, who didn't make any other moves, just awkwardly walking around, holding the brain shell with their hands from time to time.

The new-style song team is renovating the pattern in the old tradition, the costumes are extremely new and gorgeous, mostly young men and women, spinning flower umbrellas, twisting up the expression is very in place, and the eyebrows are full of hot breath. These new-style song teams are like mixing beer in old shochu, stirring up a lot of foam, and there is also a kind of crowded prosperity that cannot be said.

Where is such a team going? Oh, first a colorful river flowed to the City God Temple and the Bull King Temple, and the temple courtyards reverently knelt down and sang to the gods, and then flowed to the open field to splash around. The crowd was black and pressed, like the color of the iron pot, where the water went, the pot followed where to circle the water and burn it.

As soon as the Yangge team finished twisting, a large area of gray-yellow came from the north sky cover - the spring wind came! The wind blew on time and blew familiarly! Seeing that the gray and yellow were approaching, the crowd was still not panicked, the one who bought the sugar gourd still handed over the change, the person who was eating the cold skin still calmly added a spoonful of chili oil, the mother held the child who blew the snot bubbles and continued to walk forward, and the vendors shouted even louder.

And the wind came in an instant. At that moment, all the noises seemed to suddenly disappear, only the sand dust slapped on the eyes and face, the people who had worn the glasses earlier looked at each other with joy, and more people turned their backs to the wind, protecting themselves and their children. The balloon seller grabbed the rope, but was still carried by the wind and ran a few steps. At this time, the song team had also dispersed, and the flowers and greenery were sandwiched in the crowd, and the red flowers and beads on the dress were shaken by the wind. But soon, the limelight passed, and a constant tenderness spread between heaven and earth, and in this gentle scratching, no one wanted to stop or return home.

After the big bustle of the morning and noon, there is also the afternoon and evening turning nine-curved lantern array.

This nine-curve Yellow River light array is not ordinary, a link error will be completely chaotic, so you must understand the pedestrians to arrange the light poles in the open space according to the formation. It is a mysterious array that only awaits human beings to enter, and it is about to collect the crowd and walk around its labyrinth, but in the end it will send everyone out without mercy, like a parable that must want to tell people something.

After eating and drinking enough, the Yangge team and the crowd rushed to the front of the lantern array one after another, followed by another chanting and kneeling outside the caimen gate, and not long after, the Nine-Curve Yellow River Gust Door opened, and the two monks, dressed in robes, knocked on the gong, and the footsteps hurriedly led into the Nine-Qu Formation to open the road, followed by two small hammers, and the gong clapped and followed. Then there were the young men holding the bunting flag, and behind the flag, the Yangge team and the crowd intertwined to follow all the way.

The sound of the gong and the brass cymbals accompanied by people's footsteps was incessant, except for the three or four people in front of and behind them, everyone did not know who they would meet at every corner. The last person to enter did not take a few steps before he saw the two leading monks rushing forward, and in a turn in the middle of the road, he also met these two monks, this Buddach! It seems that everyone who enters may meet, but in the light of the calcium carbide fire, everyone is only so flashing past. The human team was twisted and turned by an invisible force in the formation, meeting and separating, and the people in the formation at first still looked a little playful and excited, turning around, just when some people began to dizzy, some people began to have inexplicable feelings and panic, and when they rushed, they had already been taken out of the nine-curve array, and there was no room for looking back. People seem to have just experienced this life and are reborn, and they have mixed feelings and some heart palpitations.

Most people don't know the mystery of the Nine-Curve Yellow River Array, but people say that it is very auspicious to turn around like this, so adults and children are definitely going to come and turn around.

Turning the Nine-Curve Lantern Array to see the big drama is considered fun.

Regardless of the size of the drama class, there are always a few pillars in each drama team, and there are also one or two fat women, and the calm and wonderful of the pillars can best contrast the clumsiness and cuteness of the fat women. People love to look at these guys.

"Tanuki For Prince" is a very wonderful Qin opera. The pillars had just sung poignantly to bring people to tears, and in a transition, the fat woman moved to the stage one by one with her fat waist and water sleeves, even if she was placed in the third in a row, she was still the most conspicuous. The audience had to shed tears as she dragged her sleeves slowly and halfway down the stage with the crowd. Fortunately, the palace ladies only danced in one circle to stand still, otherwise this woman would have to take people out of the play.

All the audience members insisted on waiting for the joyful gong and drum at the end of the play, because this bright sound could completely dispel the bitterness and grievances accumulated in their hearts, because there was the original intention, answer and hope of being a person in this sound.

And the wind continued to blow, as if to slowly remove last year's ground, bark and turf. Loess Mountain, Bluestone Mountain, RedStone Mountain, and all the mountains of high and low, the Yellow River, the Wuding River, the Guye River, the Luo River, and all the rivers of all sizes are pressed under this wind. Some people say that it is this wind that has created the entire Loess Plateau, and even now it is still depositing sand and grinding people's eyes, but it has also sent one spring after another, and people in the north can't tell whether they love or hate it.

In this way, the wind once again filled the whole north. The wind runs between heaven and earth, above the earth's air. The earth's qi is under people's feet, deep in the soil layer under the roots of grass and trees. The wind whistled, and the earth's air silently heated up.

The Northern Spring, which was thought to be untraceable, also came so early!

It is in every song of praise for the gods of heaven and earth, in every trembling and dancing body of the force of life, in the stubborn crevices of stones, in the first bird trumpets in the mountains.

This is the early spring in the north, although it is not clear and bright, but the living beings have once again received the will of the underworld in the chaos, and each knows the journey of another year.

If you want to make this northern spring bright and pleasant, you have to wait. When people were anxious and restless, when everyone was almost disappointed, the wind finally passed, and the spring wind picked up a pair of bird skeletons at the same time, and sprinkled more birds into the sky and branches. The earth qi finally opened the first bud on the peach branch, and then, soon, the peach blossoms, apricot blossoms, apple blossoms, and tang pear blossoms of the entire northern world would all popcorn and expand sweetly.

At that time, the flowers were blooming, and the song and laughter would be a different scenery.

Photo by Shi Feng

Ray Kelin

Formerly known as Ren Sheng, pen name Chaoyang, born in May 1971, From Zhidan, Shaanxi. Freelance writer, hobby writing. He is currently a member of the Western Prose Literature Association, the Shaanxi Provincial Prose Literature Association, the Yan'an Writers Association, the Yan'an Literary and Art Critics Association, and the deputy editor-in-chief of the editorial department of Hongdu. His works have appeared in China Art Herald, Yan'an Daily, Yanhe, Western Prose, Yan'an Writers, Community Culture, Hongdu, etc.

Warm spring

green

suddenly

Broke into my arms

Awakened from the long winter

Be enchanted by your sweet fragrance

Life has a hotbed

The long-sealed heart began to sprout

Happy elves float by

Dotted with spring light

Bring nature to life

Who can stop you from the warm dance steps

The wind gently combed the wicker and flew up and down happily

The rain drenched the mud grass and greedily sucked the rain dew

Mountain peach blossoms shine like clouds

Lost in winter

All bloom in the spring

Photo by Shi Feng

Spring plowing

Solid fields

The silence was broken by an iron plough

The seeds are in the farmhouse kiln

Unwilling to be lonely, he secretly looked out over the fields

Her spiritual world

It's a different story

see

People forget about exertion

Pick up the pickaxe and shovel

Beads of sweat with beans rolling down with the forehead

Flashing with the light of endeavor

They ached their arms and waist and feet

In the scene where the wind writes rain painting

Rely on fertile soil

Sow joy

Happiness and hope

Liu Baodong

Shaanxi Zhidan people, literature lovers, occasional works published in newspapers, magazines and online platforms, is now working in the Yanchang Oilfield Co., Ltd. Zhidan oil production plant.

In the spring

One

After the snow, the wilderness stretches out even wider,

The snow pressed gently, and the light stroked the mountains and rivers

Leave a shadow. Color class refutation.

Like you want to dress up deliberately:

Take a shower first, and bask in the sun.

The characters of the early spring are quietly appearing,

The ruins of the past have been swept away.

I miss the days of running barefoot,

The breeze brushes the grass surface, and the footprints remain on the grass surface,

And the grass is dark green, with a bright light.

The light is like this moment,

Bright, pure, makes people want to go out the door,

Towards a complete world. At this point,

The snow wakes up from the ground and melts quietly.

Two

I like silent things

You can't imagine that kind of silence

Along with its negations and affirmations

We also have to be calm bystanders

Try to be patient with the urge to express

Bear the brunt of joy and sorrow alone

I know that's power

Like a willow tree sprouting, like a peach blossom blooming

Like a butterfly finally breaking through the cocoon

Therefore, love will be deep

You certainly understand that

We know ourselves in silence

Photo by Shi Feng

Wang Feifei

A native of Shaanxi Zhidan, he is currently a member of the Western Prose Literature Society, the Shaanxi Youth Literature Society, and the Yan'an Writers Association. He loves to write and likes to record his life with words in his spare time, and his works have been scattered in newspapers and magazines such as "Shaanxi Poetry", "Selected Western Prose", "Yan'an Daily", "Yan'an Writers", "Hongdu" and so on.

Spring, run to the fields

Spring, run to the fields

Run like the wind

Forget that you are no longer a child

Just want to go in the fields

Tell the leaves of the withered yellow season

A land of silence

Spring returns as promised

Spring, run to the fields

Please forgive me for my recklessness

Only for this earth

There are endless whispers

Only because of this spring in northern Shaanxi

There are too deep thoughts

Spring, run to the fields

Feel the spring breeze from far and near

Caress the earth and the hills

In the distance, a little bit of green

Let the fields be silent

It became, a big piece

Fertile ground for hope

Spring, run to the fields

Go and smell the wildflowers

Go and listen to the birds' songs

Go tread on the farmer's newly turned land

Go and see the tall fruit trees that grow on the mountain

Go talk to Spring about the heart

Tell me, my thoughts

Photo by Xu Wenlong

Li Xiaowei

Pen name Nanhua Beixue, born in 1985, from Zhidan, Shaanxi. He is a member of the Shaanxi Writers Association and the Shaanxi Youth Literature Association. His works have been published in newspapers and magazines such as Yanhe, Yan'an Literature, Prose Poetry, National Poetry Geography, Yan'an Daily, Beijing Poets, Longnan Literature, etc., and he is the author of the poetry collection "Bowing Down, or Looking Up".

Paint the spring breeze

The March wind beats softly and everything stirs

The grass and trees on the willow side whispered

The old scalper who walked out of the village woke up with a thunderclap

The millstone is spread out with old bean kernels. The mother clutched the grinding handle

Spring, in the palm of her hand

The three-year-old Mao woman took a sip of fresh milk

She ran gently. The spring breeze is full of material

The familiar woodpecker, tapping softly

Knock on it, and the color of the earth will be green

Just like that, gently borrow the spring breeze

taking photographs

Photo by Xu Wenlong

Zhang Zhihai

Born in 1994 in Zhidan, Shaanxi. A member of the Yan'an Writers Association, he began to experiment with new poetry writing in 2016. He has served as the editor-in-chief of literary paper journals and literary websites, and participated in the editing and publication of several poetry collections and anthologies. At present, he mainly writes short stories, poems and essays, and his works have appeared in literary magazines and anthologies such as "Yanhe", "Yan'an Writers" and "Hongdu".

Kasuga Notes

Rain fell on the windowsill, like a joyful new life

Sitting under the eaves, my loneliness was like water

News about spring

I don't know who to tell

Bluestone bricks pave the way

The road bends alone in the mountains

Thoughts roll over the mountains

As far as the eye can see, it is not the figure of the person

The nest is filled with spring breeze

Swallows fly in

Chirping knocks on the wooden door at dusk

My love has fallen all over the yellow earth

The cycle repeats

The bells fold in the night

Some people come from far and near

And far beyond the thousands of mountains and rivers

Lay out the letterhead

Someone always erased the mailing address

At this moment, the vastness of the mountains and rivers

An acacia, can no longer be sent

Photo by Hu Haimin

Chen Huiqin

Pen name Chenmu, female, Han ethnicity, bachelor's degree, born in Zhidan in 1981, worked in Zhidan County Literary Association. A member of the Zhidan County Writers Association and the Zhidan County Photographers Association, he has published the novella "The Marriage of the Little Girl", and in addition to writing novels, he also likes to record the beauty of life with the lens.

The forester of spring

Stomp on the loneliness of winter

Rub the spring into the willow shoots

The forester on the mountain

Drunk among the flowers

The wind blows through the mountains

Listen to birdsong on the side of the stream

Hustle, sorrow is sealed

Spring grows on young shoots

Dandelions, marigolds, dogtails flow freely

Once naked barren mountains were packed in by foresters

Patrol dry food bags

Photo by Xu Wenlong

Amaranth

A native of Zhidan, Shaanxi, he is a member of the Western Prose Literature Society. His works "Father's Homeland", "The River That Crossed Childhood", "Ordinary Them", "Nian: Rich is Material, Indifferent is Feeling", "Listening to the Rain", "Passing Through is Eternal Life", "An Autumn Song and a Tree Love" have been published on various literary public platforms.

Just wait for the east wind

The strings of the earth were tight, and the limbs of the grass and trees could not move

The wind in the mountains is frozen, and all the colors must not be brilliant

There was a simple stiffness in the air, without birds and flowers

Everything seems to not exist, everything is ready to move

That touching new green, only for the east wind to blow

Photo by Shi Feng

Wang Xiongying

Born in Zhidan, Shaanxi In the 1980s, he currently works at the Zhidan County Rong Media Center. He is a member of Yan'an Writers Association and has works in magazines such as "Shaanxi Poetry", "Shaanxi Poetry", "Yan'an Writers", "Hongdu" and so on.

The peach blossoms are blooming, and you haven't come yet

The cold wind is still scavenging the nothingness of the world

Press justice to the bottom of the mountain

Evil force after evil force

Rush into the clouds and dance your teeth and claws

I don't know

Peach blossoms have bloomed in the night of lacquer

The willow buds squeezed out a new green

It's like nascent jasper

Ice and snow will eventually be conquered by the sun

That pool of unrestrained river water

Just like your tenderness to me

Gone forever

I stood quietly in peach blossoms

the opposite shore

Peach blossoms withered you did not come

Peach blossoms bloom

You haven't come yet

Photo by Zhu Xiong'an

Guo Yinxu

Guo Yinxu, born in 1997 in Zhidan, Shaanxi, is a member of the Chinese Poetry Society, a member of the Shaanxi Writers Association, the editor of Shaanxi Poetry, and has won the 9th China Campus Double Ten Poetry Award, and his works have been published in "Yanhe", "Branch Construction", "Shanxi Literature", "Prose Poetry", "Niangziguan", "Prose Poetry World", "Metropolis", "Wutai mountain", "Jiaying Literature" and other journals, and published the poetry collection "Birds Return home" (collection).

In the highlands, spring is a lie

Green gradually emerged from the ground and could not be covered

Yellow sand piled up on the plateau

All the wonderful fantasies of spring

They were all blown away by a gust of wind and dust

In the highlands, spring suffers from procrastination

Endlessly lie into the trough

The sidewalk trees still can't hide a doomed encounter

As a testimony to the solar terms, we have nothing to do with the warmth in the textbook

The grass is not adjacent to the north, and can only prolong the growth period

Tear apart their bodies in the season of resurrection of all things

Arrange everything in front of you to look like spring

Then: write a poem for spring