Editor's Note: The forthcoming "Poems of Yu" is Mr. Yu Qiuyu's first collection of poems in more than 70 years. In the general impression, poetry and youth are linked, but Mr. Yu Qiuyu said: "The real poetry is in old age, because all his pursuits have been pursued, all goals have been lost, and what remains is to live like poetry." He has a long sky and white clouds, has a beautiful old age without practical purpose, and can live quietly, which is poetry. ”
<h1 class="pgc-h-arrow-right" data-track="6" > "Yu Zhi Poem" Self-Prologue: My poem is hidden in the bottom of my heart</h1>
Six years ago, at the Macau University of Science and Technology, two female students happily told me: "Dean, we have read dozens of your poems from the Internet and can recite seven or eight!" ”
They seemed to be about to start reciting, and I quickly stopped them, saying, "This is not mine, I have not published a poem." ”
"It has not been published, it can be seen that there is, and it may also be leaked." They laughed.
"It won't leak, my poems are hidden in my heart." I say.
"Let's publish it anyway. Since there are so many imposters, the real body should come out even more. "They said it very seriously.
I thought they made sense, so I showed a hesitant expression.
When they saw it, they followed suit: "How long do we have to wait?" ”
"Five or six years." I said yes.
They must have forgotten this conversation. But six years have passed.
"Yu's Poem"
I said that my poems are hidden in my heart, which is not a greasy statement.
It may be related to the childhood of poetic landscapes, no matter what I write, I have always pursued the realm of poetry, even historical prose and academic works. Therefore, seeing that Mr. Bai Xianyong summarized my article as "poetic thinking about the world", I was immediately surprised to quote it as a confidant.
Since I have spent my whole life writing "generalized poetry", I have squeezed poetry in the strict sense into the corner. Most of these poems are hazy chants when you wake up every morning and see the clouds outside the window, and if you can remember a few words later, you will remember them. Occasionally, when you have time, you can also pick it up and change some words. The whole process, without the use of paper and pencil.
This time, in order to fulfill the six-year covenant in Macao, paper and pencil were used. When I wrote it, I found that the amount was too small to become a book, and it needed a lot of additions. Therefore, search for the various poetic fragments that remain in the mind and let them expand into poetry. It took a few months before and after to become the current set.
I am not a pure full-time poet, but I have a lot of cultural depths in my life, and my own experience is quite rich, so the results of chanting are also mixed. History, religion, domestic, foreign, life, art, tea, cooking, all are involved. I am secretly happy about this, because my poetic ecology is the boundless world.
The wings of poetry have no walls, soar freely, and land everywhere. Since the Internet is already inhabited by a large number of birds that do not know where to send me, my own birds have no restrictions.
However, although free, there is also a slight bias, that is, many of my poems are infiltrated with more classical flavor, which is related to my early years of writing ancient poetry" "young skills". To this end, this collection also includes some ancient poems written by himself.
I have many opportunities to write ancient poetry on weekdays. That's because there are always some persistent friends who invite me to write large calligraphy for stone carvings or hanging walls, but what to write? I was not used to copying other people's poems with my own calligraphy, so I chanted them as I pleased. I have selected a little bit of the ancient poems collected here, leaving behind some passages that contemporary youth may be able to read more.
I write ancient poetry and like to use a brush, so I have also accompanied several calligraphies in this collection, so that young readers can appreciate the charm of "poetry and ink reflecting each other" in ancient China.
This collection of poems is roughly divided into four parts: the first part is about the tastes around you, the second part is about the thoughts of the sky, the third part is a review of the flow of years, and the fourth part is the ancient poetry.
It is not easy to read poetry with the heart of the times. Therefore, today, those who write poetry should pay tribute to those who read poetry. These sentences hidden in the bottom of the heart can have other telepathic induction, just like seeing a few people who are willing to go along on the vast and desolate road, it is so happy.
Gengzi year autumn
Selected poems of Yu
My family tree
The genealogy of the world,
It left me confused.
It is as if Xu Menting,
Generations of bells continue!
Pen and ink do not involve sorrow,
There has been no dirt in a thousand years.
He Zeng's heavens and earth withered,
Where are the ten thousand households?
My ancestors did not know the narrative,
Not a few traces of cloud left.
Guess that there is little comfort,
Rushing to form a family tree.
My family tree is the Liangzhou Grottoes,
My family tree is the Western Xia Drum.
My family tree, is the Mongolian crossbow,
My family tree is Aikikawa Arrow.
My family tree is a lakeside calamus,
Under the pu pu is the remains of the Yue kiln.
My family tree is late autumn oblique moon,
It's a long way under the oblique moon.
This life is hurried
The walker floats and walks as he pleases,
The lonely boat has no port.
Every day and every place belongs to me,
Not a single strand of me.
Success or failure is synonymous,
High and low is fiction.
There is only one thing in this life,
Find the sleeve of the great beauty,
Distributed for four weeks.
Anthropomorphic poems
I'm going to say a couple,
It's a metaphor.
She comes from the depths of the Mang Mountains,
It should have been robust and simple,
But it was a light gait,
Elegant sleeves are light and comfortable.
He comes from the rich port,
It should have been Sven and elegant,
But it turned out to be dark and solid,
Covered in mud.
They clearly don't deserve it.
Who knows.
She shyly threw herself into his arms,
He said shyly: I am your destination.
There is no other party,
They can also marry others,
Keep yourself safe for a lifetime,
Perform their respective duties.
With each other,
But they can be with each other,
Create the ultimate every day,
Join hands to reach the Sacred Land.
When he showed her posture,
A purple curtain was drawn.
She practiced for a moment in the purple veil,
As soon as he appeared, the fragrance overflowed everywhere.
They all belong to the water playing family,
Very clear about the leisurely water nature.
She was always there to swim,
He was always around to protect...
—I can't write this love poem,
Seems a bit vulgar already.
Let's end the parable,
What I'm saying is: tea and pot.
To be more precise,
It is Pu'er tea with purple sand pot.
The primeval forest on the banks of the Lancang River,
Fell in love with the small volume of Yixing clay.
I often go to Pu'er and Yixing,
The masters on both sides are also very familiar.
Once I invited them together,
Both sides look up to fame, but they are reserved.
I say, the marriage of your children has been admired by the whole world,
Why don't you hug and cheer when you first see your family?
Actually, they're right.
In the face of the miracle co-creators who miss day and night,
At first sight, it is inevitable to hesitate.
They soon whispered intimately,
The secret details of decades are all revealed tonight.
Looking at this scene, I smiled,
Speaking of them as relatives,
Isn't it back to that metaphor?
Then let's follow the metaphor and say a few more words:
Since it is a perfect match in the world,
I don't care about all kinds of differences and thousands of miles.
Never empathize halfway,
Don't extinguish the fire for a day.
Empty pottery looks to the south day and night,
The skirt of the south belonged only to the purple curtain.
Your eyebrows
Your eyebrows are my landscape,
My landscape comes from the Tang Dynasty.
Shoot away the wind and snow,
Wash off the powder,
A shallow smile,
A hasty prayer.
West out of the sun close me as a companion,
I am also in the shadow of the lone sail.
You are my first height,
You are my last stronghold.
A thousand years of snooze, a thousand miles of shoes.
With you and me, there is no more expectation.
Your past
Caption
It is said that there are two poems written by me, which are widely circulated on the Internet and are all the rage. Some places invited me to give a speech, and posted these two poems at the entrance of the lecture hall to show their fate with me. When I met some unfamiliar friends, they would smile and recite as soon as they met, and I immediately caught them, finished chanting in unison, and then solemnly explained that these two poems had nothing to do with me.
These two verses are simple: "I did not participate in your past; I will accompany you to the end of your future." "At first glance, I know that this is a young lover's expression of love, very popular, very direct, but if you want to call it poetry, it is too shallow.
In addition to these two sentences, there are countless poems on the Internet that impersonate my name. I still don't understand the reasons for this mass counterfeiting, but in any case, these poems misplaced my literary landscape.
Every time I get angry, I smile and wonder what would happen if I wrote these topics myself. Let's try it once in a while. But poetry is poetry, and as soon as the pen is dropped, it touches the depths of the soul.
I'm not involved in your past,
But your first cry has choked me.
Maybe I was climbing a tree that day.
Suddenly, a muffled sound came to the ear.
Like a harp, like a distant wind, like a heavenly language,
I turned my head to listen, not thinking,
But I don't know,
Right now,
I have a lifelong destination.
But why,
Do the two have so much interest?
The sorrow of the heart,
Knowing the refusal of the heart,
Will be pleasantly surprised,
Knowing the anger of the heart.
Maybe
Although not involved,
But it has already been secretly through the song?
You saw the moon and laughed when you were three years old,
Immediately there is an echo continuum,
Only because there is also a person in the distance who is fascinated by the moonlight.
You picked up three maple leaves when you were four,
But there are only two pieces in hand,
That piece had been picked up by another maple lover.
When you were five years old, you first read Tang poems,
There are a few songs that are particularly catchy,
It was as if someone had been chanting from the sidelines first.
Say
Your moonlight, I have participated;
Your autumn leaves, I have participated;
Your Tang poems, I have participated.
It's all this,
That's what makes us feel the same way we are.
True at first sight,
Completely in sync with life.
Maybe bigger and earlier than life,
It is cast by the co-fusion of moonlight, autumn leaves, and Tang poems.
Then believe me,
You and I have finally met,
Although quiet and plain, no one pays attention,
But there has been a long search for the map.
Guided by nine songs,
Follow the eight dragons to guide the way...
That day we met,
He trembled and stopped happily.
Encounter is all,
From then on, there was no distraction.
Why do you have to take the vow of "staying with you to the end"?
Most of the vows in the world are based on doubt.
There are no doubts here,
You and I don't have to swear.
The world is in full swing,
Disaster is boiling like boiling.
Just four eyes facing each other,
there is no great worry;
Just meet Jun,
It's all there is to it.
Since everything is enough,
It is also a light cover for the portal.
No position required,
No expectations,
No information required,
No need for jianghu.
Our signs,
It is a lonely boat secret path;
Our marriage contract,
It is a wordless book of heaven.
Who is me
That day Taihu Lake was calm and graceful,
I chanted two southern chord songs.
But think about it,
Never heard or read it.
It's what it's sneaking into my heart.
Or does it belong to me?
In a battlement in Iran,
Found the old nest of the past life.
I conclude that I have dwelt here,
I used to grind here.
This ditch this ridge,
This leaf and this fruit...
In the Sinai Desert,
There was a bush of vines that was lonely and delicate.
I've watered it for years,
Curl up and sit down after each pour.
But where does the water come from?
There was no river nearby for a hundred years.
That mountain trail is very familiar,
Every stone step recognizes me.
Asking for place names is very strange,
It's called San Marino.
I've been there,
Haven't been there again.
There is me everywhere,
It's not me everywhere.
But why do you have a heart to heart,
At first sight of the devil?
So Yang Tianchang asked:
Who am I?
Who is me?
What year am I?
Where am I?
Me, me, I—
I am the candle fire of the night,
It's a fire-fighting moth again.
I am the seat of incense in silence,
It's a spinning top again.
I'm Aesop with closed eyes,
It's the head of the foot again.
I am a fierce jingke,
Again, the gentle eastern slope.
I am a pure white crane,
It's the residue of the ink again...
Thousands of miles,
It's all there.
Positive and negative colors,
Stand on top of each other.
Polygonal and multidimensional,
Thousands of waves.
I am old,
There is still no definite statement.
Then simply exile,
No attachment, no self.
Once there is no self,
The heart is wider than the sea.
Long days of cleanliness,
The mountains are majestic.
Meet someone
History is a fragment of memory,
But you need to have the face of a co-conspirator.
If the co-conspirator is gone,
Then, the fragment becomes a residual smoke.
I choked up softly as I mourned my mother,
When my mother was gone, I lost my childhood.
There are many questions that are too late to ask,
There will be no answers.
I thought these questions were not very important.
Only now did I understand,
It was the twine of thread that kept me alive.
Why is it so knotted, so tied, so solved?
One person left, and the twine was completely broken.
Recently met a person,
It also gave me a big shock.
He was the leader of the Shanghai Education Commission.
Several times I came to the door to invite me out of the mountain.
The polls don't persuade me,
One of his decisions embarrassed me:
As long as I promise to be dean,
He was demoted to the Academy as a deputy.
The dean was fully responsible,
He worked as a secretary to make up the stage.
Knowing everything,
The dirt trail holds the shoulders.
After many years into a hardcore,
Jointly build an order and share hardships.
Finally knew I was going to resign,
He went to the higher authorities to spy on me.
Since life is closely linked,
I always feel that old age can be talked about for a long time.
When the time comes,
The two verified and tested each other.
He lives on my ridicule,
I survive on his jokes.
Unexpectedly, the thunderbolt was sunny,
Alzheimer wrapped him around.
No one knows anyone,
The eyes were empty as a pool of dryness.
The dry pool has no feeling for me,
My heart withered half of it.
Alzheimer's like a pandemic,
A corner of the wilderness partner.
That half of the Tiger Charm has been lost,
All the whispers were cold.
Where is the two-legged pathfinding?
The abandoned road has been deleted.
The road to deletion cannot be followed,
The deleted history has been paralyzed.
Penless ink is empty paper,
No one tells us about old age.
Three steps
Three steps.
Lift your feet up,
In just three steps,
All difficulties will be lifted.
The wind will start to turn,
Tide, will find a new way.
Even the dark clouds that weigh on the top,
It will also gradually dissipate.
All my friends looked at me,
They can't help in the face of the tide of slander.
One is to hope that I will write a rebuttal,
They believe that my writing is unimpeded;
The second is that they want me to go to court to prosecute.
They believe in all lies and are most afraid of the law;
The third is to hope that I will show a little gesture,
They believe my countless readers are expecting a hello.
But they were disappointed,
I have never seen these three steps,
Not even one step, two steps.
As long as I move a little,
It will definitely generate news heat.
But there are so many really big things in the world,
How can one divert public attention for one's reputation?
And I don't want to see it.
So some hot writers wear cold iron bracelets,
The two white-haired men were thinking of their granddaughter in the bars.
Those three steps may belong to justice,
But it is not necessarily a reassuring step.
Then close your eyes,
Take two more steps,
Yes, five steps.
Five steps away, it's already the seashore,
Long winds and sudden drizzle.
Seeing a ship about to untie the cable,
I said wait a minute.
Although I don't know where you are going,
I am willing to sail with me and join the new long distance.
Yeah, don't care about the three steps.
Two more steps is a thousand steps.
Such as
What if?
Such as.
an ordinary Chinese character,
Overlap is the secret language.
Jia Island verse:
"When the moon is empty, the color is free".
Jia Island Moonlight,
Millennia is no different,
Night and night,
High and nine days,
Melt into grass and trees.
Eternal and everlasting,
It's like that.
Bai Juyi verse:
"If you don't meditate, you can't move as you are."
Here as such,
No desire, no desire,
Helpless,
There is no present and no ancient,
No joy, no anger.
Let it be its own,
It is the destination.
There is a sentence in the Tantra:
"Everything is as it pleases".
The meaning of Huineng,
Regardless of whether it is high or low,
Regardless of Qin Chu,
Regardless of the wise and the foolish,
Regardless of whether you win or lose,
All things are one,
We share weal and woe.
Diamond Sutra Cloud:
"Do not take the phase, such as not moving."
This eight-character recipe,
Lifetime Huiwu.
Phases of the world,
For me not to take;
Name phase phase,
I'm not worried.
Just ask Eternal,
Ask only about self-nature,
Just ask the same,
It's like this.
If speechless,
But he did not move.
Not moved by the reputation of the tilt,
Immovable from gratuitous insults,
Not moving in the ear-piercing drum,
Don't move in the sky.
So take a walk with Ja Island,
The moon is like this.
Why say it again
Since there is nothing to say,
Then why say it again?
You can't prove it.
That time the water was hard because of the whirlpool,
The row of geese did not fly out of the mountain fire.
There were three white clouds on the roof that day,
That night the monk did not meditate.
That year my father was suffering,
At that time, I encountered demons every day.
That pile of lies will eventually be punctured,
Sooner or later, that fight will become a bubble.
That helm exacerbates the bumps,
Those teachings in turn lead to depravity.
There are no flowers in that bush,
There was no fruit in that forest.
That road leads only to the desert,
Camels could not be found in that desert.
And you might as well sit by the tree,
It is also possible to lie on a stone pillow.
If you see that there is trouble ahead,
Then you should get up and sound the gong.
If anyone is injured,
Then you should go forward and massage.
Why is the gong sounding? Why Massage?
No need to be thankful, no need to say more,
Just because,
We have lived together.
twilight
The charm of dusk,
It's overbearing.
There is no room for half a sentence to be argued,
The mighty sun had to converge quietly,
The breath fades.
Also no longer reject the west side of the fat powder red wine,
Drunkenly, he hid in the tent behind the mountain.
The strong wind,
also entangled in wisps of cooking smoke,
Can't resist the temptation of aroma hovering over the treetops.
A flock of birds flew out of the treetops,
They're still hiding from the wind in the afternoon.
At this moment, I dare to flirt with it,
Twittering, a lot of noise.
Humble clouds,
Fang Cai only dared to be the docile subordinate of the sun,
At the moment, it is anti-customer-oriented,
In the name of Sunset Xia, he became the leader of half of the Heavenly Dome.
Unfortunately, he has not been in charge for a long time,
Soon it was shrouded in twilight.
Twilight has a thousand poetic meanings,
But this hurried passerby, though elegant,
In the blink of an eye, I was tired and sloppy.
The night engulfed the twilight in one gulp,
Not a single cent is left.
Dusk is so domineering,
After collecting Vientiane, he also blacked himself out.
Like a somber-looking sage,
When parting, long eyebrows are raised,
There seems to be some kind of proclamation.
He must have been saying:
There is no day long,
I will never be late.
Brilliant or good,
Blazing or blazing,
Strong or good,
Pain or pain,
Each has its own twilight,
Soon the light and heat ran out and the smoke dissipated.
Every dusk is the end,
Each end is not without ridicule.
Mocking the pride of the morning,
Mocking the noonday hustle and bustle,
Laugh at the mood of the afternoon.
After the ridicule, I fell asleep peacefully,
Waiting for another rising sun,
Another rooster announces.
Of course
They will be ridiculed again by the next twilight.
Therefore, there is no need to sigh in your sleep,
You don't have to worry about it.
Day and night hurriedly can not tolerate the nagging of the poet,
The hero's anger.
Time will sigh and nag for you,
The years will make you anxious and angry.
But time and years are so busy,
I will inevitably forget to do it for you.
- Then let it go completely,
This is the dawn of the day,
The Religion of Dusk.
Two years old
No one teaches,
Learned to look.
Look for the chickens at the door,
Look for evening photos from the west window.
Look for the ice tops hanging under the eaves,
Two unclothed birds parked on top of the ice.
Looking for grandmother's wrinkled smile,
Behind the wrinkles is a fragrant pot stove.
Look for the bouquet of flowers at the head of the bed,
After a night it was already sleepy...
All the beauties of the world have already reported.
After that, more learning,
None of them seem to matter.
So I believe in Lao Tzu,
He said the ultimate in humanity,
All in infant swaddling.
Six years old
Six years old is the age of the mountain,
Already looked down on the flat ground galloping.
The mountain is not close to my house,
But I think about climbing all the time.
Wu Shan is obviously too low,
The targets are Wushiling and Damiaoling.
That evening after school,
My grandmother said my mother had gone to Shanglin.
There is a relative by the lake in Shanglin,
But they are separated by two mountains.
I was overwhelmed when I heard it.
Quietly out of the house.
To hide from my grandmother over the mountains,
To surprise Mom.
The night is getting darker,
The mountain road is quiet.
This is the time when tigers and wolves are infested,
Even the wind did not dare to make a sound.
I don't want to mess with them,
Put the footsteps very lightly.
There is a hut on the Great Temple Ridge,
Close the wooden door tightly.
The door opened, and out came an old man,
Probably a beggar,
Persuade me not to go again,
He handed me a wooden stick again.
I took the stick or went forward,
I feel that I can't be ashamed of being afraid.
lose face? Who's to lose?
Lose someone in front of a tiger wolf?
Lose someone in front of a mountain?
Shame on yourself?
At this moment,
I have become a mountain philosopher,
Thinking about the self-esteem of life.
Finally saw a figure,
In the middle of the moonlight barren mountains.
Mom saw that I was actually calm,
Sure enough, she was the rare mother of a philosopher.
Of course, she was also a little surprised.
One grabbed my hand very tightly,
He bent down again to look into my eyes.
Many years later, right on the edge of this mountain road,
I placed her in the spiritual bed.
Seven years old
Moonlit night on the hillside looking into my eyes,
Mom has already made a decision.
She hesitated but chose to believe the boy,
Quiet bravery brings the greatest possibility.
There are a lot of people in this area who go out to make a living.
It has always been for my mother to read and write letters.
She's going to give it to me,
A pen, a stack of paper, an oil lamp.
At that time, the villagers did not have any hidden feelings,
Half the village was crowded to listen to each letter.
The small flame flashed a large circle of black heads,
All staring at that little handwriting stop and stop.
The big lady cried and the little aunt complained that in the end they were all inquiries,
Gloom and sorrow roll here tonight.
Where there is truth in the world, there are always very few words and many tones,
The little boy threw himself into a huge writing class.
My friends cried out in pain as I cried out outside the door,
Go shrimp fishing, go melon picking, catch earthworms.
I would rather climb the locust tree under the moon,
But I can't let go of the eyes of so many adults.
A few years later I won the first prize in the Shanghai Essay Competition.
Many people were a little surprised.
Only my mother,
Smile softly and take a sip of your mouth.
Many years ago, my books have become popular at home and abroad for many years,
A lot of people come to inquire about the secret path of writing.
The answer is, I've been writing letters,
In front of him always stands the receiver.
Eight years old
That year the autumn was thick,
I had a ridiculous disappearance.
As usual, whichever house looks for a child to shout a few times,
But shouting too long will make the whole village panic.
Because there are only two possibilities left:
One is to fall into the water, and the other is to encounter wild bears.
I am the "first talent" in the village,
He was valued for writing letters on behalf of everyone.
So every door and every household rushed together,
I searched every abandoned house, every tree hole.
When I finally showed up, my eyes were still confused,
It turned out that he was asleep in the dark corner of the stove,
Grandmother did not see it, and piled up a bunch of dried pine,
I had a warm, long dream.
This little thing got me hooked,
Behind the world's trepidation, it is likely to hide calm.
There are too many possibilities in the world,
It will not disappear easily.
Then slow down the grief,
And slowly impulsive,
And slowly coax,
Life is often in the haze.
But isn't it really missing?
In the winter of the disappearance,
Dad returned home from Shanghai and announced,
The move has already begun.
Well, I'm still going to disappear.
Missing from the folks,
Missing in Tian Lang.
Missing from the dirt road of toddler,
Missing from elementary school hours.
Missing from the river that cleans the ink,
Missing from the smile of a fellow villager.
Missing from the mountain road to find his mother,
Missing from the lamp where the letter was written.
Missing from so many big locusts and small trees,
Missing from so many huts and chimneys...
Even these can be cut off,
Where else can it not be missing?
Missing is tears,
Missing is pain.
But if it were not for this categorical goodbye,
Is there a chance to meet somewhere else?
If it weren't for the wind and rain here,
Are there tides rising and falling elsewhere?
I am destined to be a missing person forever,
Just settled down, centrifugal and moving,
The clothes are fluttering and the lines are hurried.
Long gone from sight to the world,
Missing in the hearts of thousands of people.
Missing in the name,
Missing from deeds.
Missing from performance,
Missing from the specialization.
Missing from the judgment,
Missing in praise.
Missing from the media,
Missing from communication.
Missing from a party,
Missing from the public.
…………
It's like a hearth when you were eight years old,
Shrink into ignorance.
Now there's one more wife,
Hug each other.
Neither fell into the water,
There are also no wild bears.
But I can see the lonely sky for a long time,
Soar over thousands of peaks.
There is a mist between the peaks,
100 Miles Of Red Maple.
Thirteen years old - sixteen years old
I don't know what curse the heavens and the earth have been cursed,
The crops and sparrows were driven away together.
Three years of terrible famine,
Qianli urban and rural face yellow muscle thin.
The students pinch each other's arms every day,
Look at the puffiness and go down a little bit.
That's the age when we grow our bodies.
Youth does the toughest fight in the narrow slit.
I believe there are some ultimate reasons for life,
Create excellence in hopeless dilemmas.
Where did Teacher Sun find the world's latest English teaching materials,
Teacher Wang has asked us to read the Analects thoroughly.
Three years later the great famine finally receded,
In just a few days, the male and female students were radiant and energetic.
Compared to international peer scholars,
No matter the intellectual thinking, I am not ashamed.
It's just a pity that good days don't last long,
Only then did it slow down and burst forth a gushing theory that filled the surroundings.
I don't know what they want to do.
But I have always had a hard time accepting big words and clichés.
Now I plugged my ears and turned my head,
Think about how you can save yourself in such a wave.
Finally figured it out -
Find a corner of beauty and create your own little universe.
So before and after graduating from high school,
I've sprinted in one direction.
This is thanks to Shanghai:
So many anti-time exhibitions,
So many distant songs,
So many deep eyes into the painting,
So many small buildings in history...
Twenty-five-five
I heard that education will be restored,
The library has torn the seal.
I begged an acquaintance to come in sideways,
It's like a handful of thirsty seedlings.
Chinese and foreign masters see me with subtle expressions,
Crouching on the bookshelf seems to be smiling.
They all remembered me having a heated debate with the mob.
Otherwise they would have been burned by fire.
They don't know I'm suffering outside,
Hide here and use thick dust as a talisman.
Their hometowns are thousands of miles away,
Each dreamed in silence.
I whispered to them,
Three months later a rough outline was formed.
I decided in this dark space,
Create a cultural castle with a bird's-eye view of the world.
Let's call it "World Drama Studies",
But at the time,
The title of the book alone is a felony,
Because drama has long since become a terrible witch mark.
A storyteller on the outskirts of Shanghai was ordered to be executed,
Just because of the joke added when talking about the model play;
The famous actor Yan Fengying just casually said a few drama reviews,
criticized for drinking a deadly medicine;
The opera historian Xu Fuming also commented on the two dramatic sentences,
Put in jail...
I know that writing this book is more sinister than auspicious,
However, they regard the dignity of culture as high.
Just leave a few pages to prove,
There is also a complete aesthetic reflection here and now.
Extreme intimidation can provoke extreme roars,
Some roar without sound,
But it can also be like an ancient sculpture.
I thought about it for a few days and found the acquaintance,
It is said that in order to resume classes, it is necessary to borrow a lot of foreign language materials.
thereupon
Led by Aristotle's Poetics,
Colleagues from Italy, Spain and the United Kingdom reported one by one.
Germany has occupied the high ground of thinking since its arrival,
Rigorous and profound.
The ancient Orient was also important,
Brahmi is struggling,
Even Indian scholars don't know much.
Shiami and Noh,
600 years ago, Japan was a beautiful place.
Dictionaries are indispensable,
Older experts also have to look for it.
It was already some birds of prey.
Lonely streets and alleys knock on old doors.
Do you want to introduce those dangerous ideas in the book?
The names of Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Bergson,
It really scared the Chinese academic circles at that time.
But how can the tragic will and the impulse to live be removed?
I respectfully gave up space,
Let the land hear the night owls chirp.
I know I can't stop,
Human theatrical ideals are so superb.
If the eyes are confined to the local area, it can only become more and more moldy,
Or lead to model far-left hoax.
It was I who introduced the world,
Or did the world transform me?
The tone of my life for the rest of my life,
There are Diderot, Goethe, Hugo fermentation,
And Hegel's spiritual coordinates.
Such a self has nothing to fear,
More without melancholy and anxiety.
As long as you climb to the top of the mountain,
You can look down at the rolling waves under your feet.
I know there are harrier eyes all around,
But they couldn't see my manuscript after all.
I just did a few bold things.
He hid in a mountain in his hometown.
Disasters have passed,
Qi qing sky high,
When my book was published, there was a lot of screaming,
I was praised as a ship of the Black Sea, a hero of the night,
According to the will of the people, it is necessary to be long,
He is in charge of this alma mater.
I was writing books every day during those years.
Race against the clock to build many textbooks.
Mom brought some food every four days,
Followed by Dad,
They are all old.
Mom looked at the desk and smiled,
I thought that the teacher's face was full of ink,
How did it turn out to be so many manuscripts?
Water Dragon Groan
Never sent a light boat,
Only his wife wandered around with books.
Not arrogant,
Not reserved,
Settle for nothing.
There is no boundary at all,
Universal unity,
Persuade the fight.
and chisel through the present and the ancient,
What a thousand years apart,
At this moment,
Naruteme.
Looking around at the wisdom of the world,
The tone is gushing,
Increase the vengeance in vain.
So I smiled,
The owl roared,
You can enjoy it all.
Make up for jealousy,
Praise for the slander,
Take Ren Tong Shou.
There are no regrets in this life,
and hold alcohol,
Pray to the Heavenly Celestial Beings.
"Water Dragon Yin : Self-Condition"
Black Sea Silver Mast
Twenty plagues,
Pro-funeral door destruction,
Thin shirts walk alone in the ashes.
Hard labor grinds the calm breath for many years,
Soul recutting.
Planted in tears of great goodness,
Top Plum,
Pour out more Cui Wei.
When there is no learning,
Black Sea Silver Mast.
"Waves and Sands: Black Sea Silver Mast"
Tasha Line, Journey
Classics Fang Wither,
The sound of books is old,
The more crowded the words, the smaller the heart.
Undeserved and young yueshan gong,
The discharged officer searched for Tang Dao alone.
Yungang Cloud Harvest,
The geese call,
Millennia of footprints annihilate the grass.
I have no mercy on my words,
And listen to the roar of the Eight Horses.
"Tasha Xing : The Journey"
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