——Read Lin Dong's "Naming Every Day"
Inscription: When I got this collection of poems, it was the moment when a strong cold wave died down. All my senses are slowly getting warmer.
I once saw such a sentence: live the days into poems, go on a blind date with flowers and trees, be adjacent to the bright moon and clear streams, stay with family and friends, and watch the time along the post station of the 24 solar terms and sing and walk.
I think so!
Perhaps, only by living life into poetry can we write it down with words according to what I want from my heart.
Turning the pages of this collection of poems with a good mood, I agree with the author's conclusion little by little, that is: whether life gives us kisses or songs, we must know that the present moment always belongs to us.
So, why not name each day of your life?
Good books have to be shared. I immediately passed the book on to my children. The child then wrote a review of the book. Although it is different from the conventional form, the words originate from flow. After reading it, my heart softened.
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Some time ago, I happened to hear a song, which was "Ordinary Song" that the singer didn't sing. The song was included on the album "Journey to the Mountains and Rivers", which was released on January 23, 2020. And I only encountered it for the first time recently, after a full four years.
When singing this song, Bucai's voice is as smooth as ever, revealing a hint of leisure and laziness.
I thought my heart would calm down in the song, but I didn't think about it, but there was a faint sadness and dull bitterness.
It's probably because of the lyrics. Such a vivid and warm scene, due to the barrier of time and space, is gloomy, distant, broken, and dead. The so-called impermanence of life.
But it's ordinary. I should understand this, I know, so I am willing and try to look down, see through, see, and learn to be indifferent, but there is still a little confusion and melancholy in my heart from time to time.
I couldn't give up this song more and more, and I fell in love with it when I first heard it, and every time I looked back after that, it was just a process of loving and constantly loving.
It's hard for me to describe what I actually understood, probably a hazy feeling that I can't put into words and words. But I knew clearly that I had a new idea, about life, about life.
To put it romantically, it's a name for each day.
This is also the name of a book of poems: "Naming Every Day".
The author of the poetry collection Lin Dong, born in the 90s and Capricorn, has been writing poetry for nearly 20 years. His poems are full of aura, with smart and beautiful language, sensitive and delicate thoughts, and vivid thoughts.
For him, poetry is not a dispensable enclosure of self-indulgence, but a way to fight against the banality of life: we cannot resist the arrangement of fate, but we can determine the background of life.
Therefore, he wrote a coherent long poem spanning 30 years, through the cycle of day and night and the change of the four seasons, precipitating the fragmented time and the fireworks in the world, expressing sentimentality, accepting sorrow and joy, engraved the ideal belief of looking up at the starry sky in the ruins, and weaving a bond of friendship in the mortal dust.
And so the days began to shine.
Spring melts the snow, the weeds break the ground, the finches return to their nests, the summer water reflects the falling flowers, the purple glow is thousands of miles, the sunset warbler cries, and when the fallen leaves turn into loess, the wind blows the wheat waves, and the autumn gilts the fields; and then starts life again from the world full of snow, and when the winter is gone, the stars will be bright.
So life became lovely.
When the frost is frosty in the morning, running against the humid wind, the hot breakfast shop on the roadside is steaming; looking out the window between work and study, the traffic at noon is much sparse; on the way home, it rains lightly, reaching out to catch the raindrops rolling down the umbrella surface, bringing a comfortable coolness in the evening; occasionally I will not return home at night to play crazy, or more presumptuous, pack my bags, flee at dawn, and go to the distant place of poetry or dreams.
A literature professor once told his students that they would give everyone two chances to skip class: there must be something more important than class, such as the leaves outside the building, or the moon tonight.
With this book in my hand and my eyes wandering between the lines, I wondered when the cherry blossoms at Jimei Temple bloomed, and I should also go and see it.
The days are so long, it's time to meet the people you want to see, do what you want to do, and take advantage of the sunshine and the breeze is not dry.
While you are not old, you are not old.
(I'm Apple Whispering, close to you and warm me.) If you like it, please pay attention!)