Original poem
A village made of paper
Text/Yu Xiuhua
The dusk bent by the sunset, the people who are pressed down by the dusk
The wind pulled in by the village, the grass and trees that were pressed to the ground by the wind
A mother who was taken away by illness
A tombstone with a mother going cold
They are sharp, cutting the living like a paper back
Demolished ancestral houses, removed statues of gods
The old man who was newly built in the house, who was dragged into the house
My false name of being played around
There is no graveyard for me next to my mother's tombstone
The banknote is folded, and there are gaps in vain
而秋风依旧吹拂着千亩良田
Rice, cotton, sorghum, sesame......
These are the crops that feed people
It doesn't matter if it's the commoners or the dignitaries who are fed
It doesn't matter if it's bustling or barren
You give me the village, not the temple
You give me my relatives, but you don't give me happiness
You give me rain, not the river
What you have given me is bitter and thin
As soon as the wind blows, it disperses
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赏析
A seedling stands on the mountain peak, it is a big tree in the eyes of the world; A green pine at the bottom of the gully will never grow comparable qualifications. The poet Yu Xiuhua's "Village Made of Paper" is a poem written on the basis of this idea.
An ordinary village, blown green by the wind every year, and injured by wind and snow, the people in the village were born here, grew up here, worked here, and lived a confused life here. There is no life here, it is barren, like paper, poor, backward, barren and fragile.
People here are dyed green by the vegetation, attacked by the autumn winds, tormented by diseases, and carried away by the twilight, as well as by the mothers. The houses where the ancestors and relatives who went first were like silent ghosts, which can only bring pain and sorrow to the living, but not much happiness. Life and happiness can only be achieved by cultivating the four seasons, and there is no other way.
The prosperity or desolation received here can only be accepted, not changed. All year round, year after year, generation after generation, it can only be like a piece of thin paper, blown back and forth by the wind of time.
"A Village Made of Paper" is a metaphor, a metaphor for the village, a metaphor for fate. Through the depiction of the village on paper, the poet expresses his dissatisfaction and helplessness with real life, and at the same time reveals his longing, longing and expectation for the future and beauty, and expresses the author's complex feelings of love and resentment towards his hometown, which is a relatively bleak work.
author
Liu Shuren, a native of Ningjin County, Dezhou City, Shandong Province, is a retired teacher, a member of the City and County Writers Association, and a poet in his spare time. Poetry is discovery, creation, and every poem is a Ganoderma lucidum grass that grows in the soil of the poet's thoughts. Most of the poems have been published in the poetry magazine "Shandong Poetry" and "Poetry Magazine", "China Poetry Network", "Wenfeng Academy", "City Headlines", "Dezhou Recitation Art Troupe", "You Walk in My Landscape" and other literary network platforms at all levels. The poetry collection "Sunset Fun One" reproduces the time of morning and evening.
All 6 volumes of Yu Xiuhua's poetry collection A book of modern and contemporary literature in the world that rejoices and shakes in the world for no reason ¥274.8 Buy