Feng Zhi (September 17, 1905 – February 22, 1993), formerly known as Feng Chengzhi, was a modern poet and scholar from Zhuozhou. The Feng family was a famous salt merchant in Tianjin, yanyin was directly subordinate to Zhuozhou, and took refuge in Zhuozhou after the Invasion of China by the Eight-Nation Alliance, so he was born in Zhuozhou. He studied at Beijing No. 4 Middle School.
In 1923, he joined Hayashi's literary group Asakusa Society. In 1925, together with Yang Han, Chen Xianghe, Chen Weimo, etc., he established the Shen Zhong Society, and published the weekly magazine "Shen Zhong", the semi-monthly magazine and the "Shen Zhong Series". In 1930, he studied in Germany at the University of Berlin and heidelberg, and in 1935 he received a doctorate in philosophy from the University of Heidelberg. From 1936 to 1939, he taught at Tongji University. He was the director of the Institute of Foreign Literature of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.
<h1>The Snake</h1>
My loneliness is a long snake,
Coldly without words—
Girl, if you dream of it
Don't be afraid!
.
It is my loyal companion,
There is a warm homesickness in the heart;
It was thinking about the dense grassland, —
On your head, thick silk.
It moonlight-like gently,
Dive past you;
Wash your dreams down for me,
Like a crimson flower!
<h1>Night in the South</h1>
We sat quietly by the lake,
Listen to the swallow tell us about the quiet night in the south.
The quiet night of the south has been brought by them,
The reeds of the night evaporated with great enthusiasm.—
I have felt the intoxication of the southern night,
Please also smell the strong smell of this reed.
You say that Big Bear is always like a cold white bear,
Looking at it makes your whole body feel miserable.
At this time the swallow gently skimmed the water,
Scattered stars and shadows in the lake.------------------------
Look at the stars in this lake,
The starry night in the south is such a sight.
You say, you're suspicious of the white pine over there,
It was as if the snow in the trees had not yet melted.
Then the swallow flew up to a palm tree,
Sing out a warm song—
Please listen to the singing of the swallows,
This is the scene in the forest in the south.
I don't think we're like tropical people.
There is always autumn-winter silence in our chests.
The swallow said that there is a rare flower in the south,
After twenty years of loneliness, I only opened it once—
At this time, I suddenly felt a flower hidden in my chest,
It will open like fire in this quiet night!
<h1>Silkworm Horse</h1>
1
There are red flowers blooming by the stream,
The sky is stained with spring light,
A flame burns in my heart,
I walked quietly to her window.
I said, O girl, the silkworm is sleeping for the first time,
Have you ever felt tired?
As long as you listen to my song and weep,
I didn't have to open the window and ask me, "Who are you?" ”
At that time, the times were really desolate,
Less traffic on the road, no boats on the water,
In those desolate years,
How much desolation emotion.
It's a poor girl,
Without a mother, the father is far away,
Before leaving, he instructed her:
"Cultivate these acres of land well!"
Next to a white horse,
The father looked at his daughter and pointed at it,
"It will help you to plow the land tamely,
It is your faithful companion. ”
The daughter does not understand what separation is,
I don't know if my father is going to the end of the world, or to the sea.
It's still stormy,
But the countryside is getting more and more desolate every day.
"Father, when will you be able to come back?"
Don't depart from reality as the ocean of oceans;
Horse, you may cross me to the other side of the sea,
Looking for your father's smiling face? ”
She looked at the fading flowers and dead leaves in front of her,
Caressing the mane of the horse,
"If there is a dear young man,
He will be willing to look everywhere for me! ”
She thought to herself,
The sun is floating in the sky,
It was as if there was a smiling young man,
Ripples in front of her.
Suddenly there was a loud hiss,
Wake her up from her dreams;
The horse has been thrown far into the flat,
At the same time, the apparition in front of her disappeared!
2
Warm willows in clumps,
Colorful butterflies fluttering,
A flame is burning in my heart,
I said, girl, silkworms are sleeping three times,
As long as you listen to my echo and shed tears,
Thorns have grown all over her garden,
Boredom occupies her day and night,
In front of her silent window,
Sparrows that only chirp.
One day I was in a daze against the window,
Dust rose far down the road;
(She hadn't had this dream anymore.
This dream was already outside her dream. ）
Now, ah, far away, dust has risen,
The horse finds his father and returns;
Father rode on the back of a horse,
The horse's hissing turned into a harmonious singing.
The father kisses his daughter's sideburns,
The daughter whisks the dust of her father,
But the horse knelt beside the ground,
I couldn't stop the sweat all over my body.
Father is like a quiet sea,
She is like the bright moon of Yingying,
The moon plunges into the deepest part of the sea,
Purify this troubled world.
Just the horse kneeling by her bed,
Tears rippled all night,
The gaze is like two bright lights,
"Girl, I've traveled all over the world for you!"
She patted the horse's head and said to it,
"Hurry up and go to the fields and plow the fields!"
Don't be so stupid,
Watch out for your father to kill you. ”
It doesn't swallow some fresh grass,
Half a scoop of water does not drink,
Not to sigh at her face,
It was to sleep by her side.
3
The yellow mushrooms have been mutilated
Flying black-clad petrels everywhere
There is still an ember burning in my heart,
I said, girl, the silkworm is weaving a cocoon.
In the empty darkness,
Outside the window was a storm;
Hanging from the wall is a horse skin,
It was her only companion.
"Dear Father, you are tonight
Where are you wandering again?
You killed this horse,
I was desolate and afraid again!
"Dear Father,
Lightning flashes, thunder,
You left your daughter,
Fear and desolation again! ”
"Dear girl,
You don't want to be desolate, don't be afraid!
I want to protect you in all my life,
Protect your body! ”
Mapiri made a heavy voice,
Her heart is pounding, her hair is creepy;
The electric light shot through her whole body,
The skin flashed again with the sound of thunder.
With the sound of the wind mourning,
With the weeping of the raindrops,
"I have protected you all my life,
As long as you sleep well! ”
In an instant it was a youthful apparition,
In an instant was the gallop of the horse:
At the moment when the earth is about to collapse,
The horse skin wrapped tightly around her whole body!
Girl, my song is not finished,
But my strings are broken;
I sat in your window with trepidation,
To finish the last paragraph:
Suddenly the wind and rain stopped,
Haoyue tightened up thunder and electricity;
The horse skin wrapped around her body,
The moonlight turned into a snow-white cocoon!
— —1925
annotations:
Legend has it that there are silkworm maidens. The Father plundered for men, but the horses were there. Mother said: "Whoever has the father to return, marry a woman." ”
The horse heard the words and stumbled away. For a few days, the Father returned on horseback. The Mother told him that the Father could not. The horse roared, the father killed, and the skin was exposed
In court. The skin suddenly rolled away from the woman, perched on the mulberry, and the woman turned into a silkworm. —— See Gan Bao's "Search for God".
<h1>"The Blowpipe Man"</h1>
I sing this story,
Please don't be sad,
Because they ran into the mountains again,
It's a happy ending!
In the Middle Ages, the high mountains of the West,
Takayama Nei, Dong Yu Sensen;
A magnificent young man,
He lived in seclusion in the cave.
I don't know what year and month it is,
He ascended the mountainside alone;
Dressed in a leisurely robe,
He also carried a hole in his shoulder.
He looked into the deep valley,
I don't know how many days I looked at it, --
Even more unable to distinguish between spring, summer, autumn and winter,
The fruits of the four seasons are often fresh.
He picked up the hole in his hand,
Blowing up slowly and unintentionally—
Why tonight's tune,
With a different emotion?
Same Matsuma
The same creek whisper,
Why is it that in his eyes,
Gradually filled with crying?
Whoever knocks his heart lightly,
Can someone play with him?
---------------------------------
Not as rustic as plain.
Two
The next morning,
He seemed to be crazy,
He blew, he carried his robe,
Look at the noisy human world running towards.
The flute cannot be separated from his lips,
In front of my eyes was the illusion of last night
Silver-gray clouds set off
A girl who blows a whistle.
Dark hair and deep in the clouds,
Can't be carefully distinguished:
Light-colored dress,
It's like a thin floating cloud.
Sleep all around,
He forgot the human world beyond the mountains,
Sometimes also climb the highest peak,
I can only see the weight of the cloud curtain.
Once in thirty days—
If it is the crescent bend;
If it is the matsuma,
Flick the fragrant cold flick.
If it is the night is quiet,
The whispers of the creek are low;
If the branches of the tree are silent,
The birds' dreams are confused.
His peace of mind,
His feelings are idyllic;
He blew his hole,
Without some grievances.
One night he was very sleepy,
But the thick clouds closed the opening of the cave,
He was troubled in his heart,
He had never experienced this realm!
Like the moonlight of water,
Covered by thick clouds,
He tossed and turned on the pillow,
Always unable to fall asleep.
She is clearly a fairy in the clouds,
But it is filled with human emotions;
He clutched his hole,
He said he was going to go to the human world to find her!
After a year,
Kissing his lips and whimpering,
Early lost the tranquility of the mountain,
Charm between the same pine.
He walked through countless cities,
He walked through countless villages and towns,
He saw a lot of blowpipe girls,
For him there was only a full coat of dust.
In the ancient temple, under the pine cypress,
A pond for printing—
He temporarily forgot his quest,
I felt the freshness of a year ago.
The mood returns to flatness,
The whistle also eased with it
But whose daughter is upstairs,
Sleepy?
Here, stayed for three days,
The calculation, where tomorrow is going,
Yikes! In the smoke,
What is the sound of a wisp?
The shadow of the red window upstairs
is a delicate girl;
To whom she writes her thoughts,
Tell her heart?
He was drunk with a dream
It's like an illusion of the year.—
He can be autonomous,
Don't put the hole lightly on your lips?
The moonlight brought them both to the sound of their whistles
Dissolved in a boundless sea of tears;
The affection of the deep boudoir and the deep mountains,
Scrambled together!
Three
Homeless youth,
Who can marry a houmen woman?
Let your mother love me,
A strict father is also difficult to promise.
They meditated day and night,
Work hard for their wishes.—
Night and night blowing season,
Soul Dew is already together!
Tonight, why can't you hear,
The sound of the whistle upstairs?
He looked at the window of that building,
There are no lonely figures
Parents have some meaning,
Helplessly, she was sick and could not get up;
The bait side is ineffective,
Not to mention the power to blow the whistle!
In the dream, Dong Zhen said to him,
"I can heal a very serious illness;
Because in my cavity,
Hide your elves."
He woke up without hesitation,
Split the hole in half—
Boiled into a bowl of medicinal soup,
Sent to the patient's bedside.
Parents feel his kindness,
Allowed their wishes.
The bright moon is like the old reunion,
A pair of people who are standing side by side!
Ah, a pair of people under the moon!
A bud has died!
Although man is, he is rejoicing,
Her hole, alone!
He blew her hole,
Not as expected;
He thought of his own helpless weeping!
"If my hole is still there,
The gates of heaven must be wide open,
Countless fairy girls, for us,
Throw the flowers and dance together!"
His deep sorrow,
How can I explain to her:
And then it finally accumulated,
Serious illness that is not healed.
She couldn't help but put her hoop on,
also as the only holy medicine;
Completed her love!
Finished his life!
Epilogue
What is left for them is emptiness,
And then there is the emptiness of sorrow
The aftersound of the wisps of the reed,
Lead them to flee into the mountains!
<h1>The Drapery– The Story of the Countryside</h1>
Who ever, looking at that verdant mountainside,
Hidden in the verdant, with a red wall,
Never enjoyed, the holy taste of idleness--
A hint of reverie?
those who live there, male or female,
It is said that it is taken off, many so tired;
In their deep pools of ancient well-like hearts,
But it is like a subtle, medieval Roman flavor.
It's western, the remnants of Taihang,
There are two nameless mountains, standing far away;
One is a Buddhist temple, one is a nunnery,
Two mountainsides, holding these two temples.
Two hundred years ago, in the nunnery, a young nun,
Embroidered with a rare drapery;
Whenever the Spring Festival of incense is added to the countryside,
But it was exhibited in the monastery opposite,
This is a complex and mysterious reason,
From the simple words of the townspeople--
Out of the Way To Shaoni at the age of seventeen,
He knelt before the bodhisattva shrine and shaved off the us.
Her parents, who are old households in Zhumen,
She wasn't, for the sake of hunger and cold;
Although she was sick, she did not
In front of the Buddha, he made some long-cherished wishes.
She was just on a moonlit night when Mei Rui first bloomed,
Secretly departed, her home,
Except for her hidden deep dive, pain, cleverness,
It is the warbler birds that tell the sorrows of the world.
She didn't know how much she got lost,
Walk the moon round and fall in the west;
The sound of the lark led her to this temple,
A pool of water in front of the temple rippled slightly.
In the end, it is not like being in the human world, and you can enjoy the blessings of purity
In the water met, her Juanli,
She resolutely walked into the nunnery
I would rather turn the flowers and leaves of youth into dead branches.
Old Ni smiled and said to her,
"Since you have made a wish, I cannot stop you,
From now on, all delusions will be removed,
This cannot be compared to ordinary child's play!
"Although you think that the sea of suffering is boundless,
Who is the bottom, remind you young man
So that you will not say in front of me,
When you repent before the Buddha, explain it too!"
"My Teacher, no one has reminded me;
I just overheard a sentence—
The man who says that he will share his destiny with me in the future,
It's an ugly, stupid man."
"Helpless marriage contract, it has long been written by parents,
Wedding feasts are also being planned by relatives and friends;
They giggled and forgot about me,
I had to carry them on my back and come to this mountain."
"My Teacher, these are the true words,
I believe in you, as I believe in bodhisattvas;
I would rather be destroyed, all ardent thoughts,
The ice freezes, my heart!"
"Teardrops with a crisp voice,
A drop, a word, wet all over the placket.
The old man said, "Cut off the thread of trouble,
The tears will also disappear with annoyance!"
The annoying spring breeze only blew green on the mountainside,
The bleak autumn rain, and the gonorrhea of the weak willows in front of the eaves;
The world does not know how much it has risen again, how many troubles,
The nunnery is always quietly nothing fresh, not stale.
Only the twilight drum and the morning bell, the trumpet of the Buddha,
I don't know if it is to wake people up, or to attract people to dreams?
Her heart was emaciated with the skeleton,
But there were no tears in front of his eyes, and he felt even more hazy.
After one day, it seems to be a year,
It looks like a year, and looking back is like a day;
The water has long been frozen,
Desolation and loneliness also come from distant peaks.
The midday sun, the warmth of early spring,
Bustling white pigeons, flying in the air;
Fluttering, here comes the young brothers and sisters,
He said that he had come to worship the Buddha and incense at the behest of his mother.
She looked at the handsome young man's eyebrows,
There is an indescribable wisp of affection.------------------------
The lively girl whispered quietly, beside her,
Every word has become her bamboo needle!
"Beautiful young girl, I tell you!"
Clever you, you say he is wronged?
For the sake of abandoning her, a fiancée,
My brother made a wish not to marry!"
She sat alone in front of the door, drowsy,
The sunset is also heavy, and the north wind is cold,
She watched as a pair of brothers and sisters descended the mountain;
I kept looking, and there was no trace of it!
Jackdaws rattle the ground, perched on dead branches,
Nothing but dusk;
The hot tears dissolved, the cold ice in the pool,
Twilight struck frequently, and she seemed to be deaf.
Old Ni's heart, though cold as frost,
I couldn't help but pity her youth.—
So young,
There is such a, obedient fate.
Pity that she was also the daughter of a nobleman,
Teach her to cultivate quietly, in the small building behind the nunnery.
She was intimidated, not knowing how long she had been ill,
In the tender green forest, partridges were heard again.
The snow on the top of the mountain, melted by the warm wind,
The worms of the golden beetle, flying in the spring light;
Her head is always low,
It is said that ascending to heaven and becoming a Buddha has long been hopeless.
I only look at the day and get haggard,
In the future, he will be buried alone, a three-foot lonely grave
Ah, as long as it is all in the world,
She's gone, some blessings!
Smoke from the stove, hypnotizing sleep,
The spring breath smoked the ground and blew into the window pavilion;
A shepherd boy, blowing a whistle,
Drive the sheep and walk downstairs from her.
The farther away the flute sounded, the more it felt ghostly,
Two red clouds lightly smeared on her pale face—
She took out a crimson veil,
I looked at it carefully for a long time and then put it next to me.
In the sun whistle of the second day,
It is also mixed with pottery and pottery singing
In her heart, a white lotus gushed out,
She embroidered it in the center of the drapery.
In the sound of the flute every day after that,
Always sweetly, there is a fresh tune--
And she took the colored thread, according to her heart,
There are flounders embroidered in the water, and there are acacia birds in the sky!
She didn't stop all the time,
The drapery was embroidered into the world of bliss
The leaves cover each other, and the sound of the stream corresponds,
Only empty, left corner.
Ben still wants to take her grief,
It is also embroidered on the top of the empty horn--
Helpless white dew turned into severe frost again,
Late at night again, howling lone geese!
The leaves of the sycamore, falling according to the ground,
The leaves of the maple tree, miserable red,
The wind was blowing, the rain was sparse, and she opened the window,
Waiting, waiting for the shepherd boy who plays the flute.
"This is the drapery I have embroidered for half a year,
Thank you for your flute sound, which gave me so much inspiration!
I'm an eighteen-year-old boy,
In my life, only tears flowed!
"But we are eternally separated;
In two worlds—"
She threw the drapery down,
Hurriedly, the window was closed again.
The next day the sky was covered with clouds,
The universe is sick for three points, and even more sorrowful:
A shepherd boy, shaved in the other's monastery,
The nunnery was incinerated, and this young nun was incinerated.
It's been more than two hundred years now.
The drapery was also cherished and hidden in the monastery
It's just the left corner.
So far, no one has been able to make up for it!
(Content from the Internet, for exchange learning only)
Facing the sea, look for light with black eyes. Founded on November 16, 2015, the Poetry Club takes "giving voice to grassroots poets" as its mission and carries forward the "spirit of poetry" as its purpose, that is, the pursuit of the truth, goodness and beauty of poetry, the artistic innovation of poetry, and the spiritual pleasure of poetry. He has published a collection of poems co-authored by poets, "Spring Warm Blossoms of Reading Sleeping Poems" and "Grass Long Warblers Flying in Reading Sleeping Poems". The poets work tirelessly, the poetry club forges ahead, constantly innovates, recommends excellent poems, produces high-quality poetry collections, recites excellent works, recommends poets' works in various forms, lets more people read excellent works, appreciates poetry culture, we are on the move!