Walk poetically in the wind

On the way back to my hometown, I wrote this little article in heaven and earth intermittently. Yesterday, I saw a full of poetry reviews about Rufeng, and felt that there was no need for my humble text to appear, and I should immediately throw it into the paper basket. But remembering that this was the first time I had written something by hand since I was writing on a computer, I felt like I was sorry to sweep away myself. So cheekily, I typed it out again with the computer. The first acquaintance is like the wind, people are like their people, the appearance of the gentle can not hide the inner boldness, although she whispered her poetry and perception, but the love and hatred and the straight-forward personality, let people feel her inner strength and self-confidence. After the party, I went home to Baidu to the windy group poem "Time, Speeding Across and Busel's Night Sky", which was read through and drunk for the most part. Yu Xiuhua once shook the majestic wind in Hengdian, "hoping to become a child in the sky", while Rufeng "did not say that the vastness and vastness / do not say the distance of thousands of mountains and rivers / do not say the encounter of the amazing", she wanted to say, "I saw a flying bird / The faint scar left on the sky". The great Indian literary giant Tagore had a similar verse :"There is no trace of a bird in the sky, but I have flown over". Tagore is written in nothing, as the wind is written in nothing, Tagore is a philosophy above the distance, like the wind is an empty and delicate concerto - this concerto beats the notes of compassion; only because of this universal compassion, there is the consciousness and mission of "healing". She exclaimed in "Autumn Wind Words", "Let the autumn wind blow away all sorrow / Let the coming snow bury the sins of the wilderness..." The poem is a river of a person's heart. This river of hearts reflects the sun, moon and stars, receives everything in the world, and crosses the poetic soul. In the wind and snow of the Ili River, she rode a black horse, playing the sad hometown ballad, "cover the inner wind and snow / Meditate in the crowd of the felt house / Fairy tales draped in snow / Stars condensed frost / I use the lamp in my heart to dispel / The darkness of the world". Some people say that the poems of the wind have a gray tone, and I have not read her poems, but in this group of poems, they are bright, sunny, and warm. As for the shadow under the lamp, it is a "disputed zone" where light and darkness clash, and it is neither under the jurisdiction of light nor under the domination of darkness—it belongs only to the sign of the wind, and it is not incompatible with gray. As a female poet born and raised in Sichuan, Rufeng has a special love for snow in Xinjiang, and each of her poems is faintly flashing the spirit of snow. She wrote about the Ili River Valley, where the snow was first clear, that "the white earth is a huge snow lotus." She wrote of Narathi in December, "The snow seals up the seasons that have nothing to do with me / and you, the only campfire in the vast snowfield / Under the moon, burning!" "Written Before a Snow Comes", as the finale, although it is a fictional story, uses snow as the introduction to the poetry, and is accompanied by many Xinjiang elements, the whole poem is rich and mellow, full of fun and flexible. This is a poem wrapped in fairy tales and steeped in romance. "When my world is greeted with an overwhelming snow / I have enough reasons / Carry a little sweetness in your direction" Although the poem only uses the two main colors of "white" and "red" (white is snow white, red is fiery red), but after being burned by the long-standing passion, the color is so bright, as if the whole world is theirs. Fei Xiang's "A Fire in Winter" burned most of China, but it was a fire in the desert, burning people. Like the wind is a poetic fire in the snow, warming the heart. The realm is high, and you can see it at a glance. At the end she wrote: "I will also wrap a dark red scarf / Like us / Quietly lit in the depths of the snowy mountains" This kind of empathy for things, the return of things to love, makes poetry erupt like a volcano—not only burning itself, but almost burning the whole world. Hölderlin, the great German poet who is highly regarded by Heidegger, longed for and pursued "poetic dwelling", such as the wind and the pursuit of "poetic walking in the wind". She exiled herself to the mountains and rivers and spread all over Xinjiang. She completely opened herself, soaking the snow for ink and waving the river for song. When Lan Po was still poetically poplar, Lu Ming had crawled all over her poetry lines. Even if it is a grass and a tree, she can find a place in Xinjiang. Even with a smile, she could discover the secret of the poetic elements. She wrote of Pangure's strange gugou, "Every grain of sand / Is thirsty water / My long green dress, the only spring". As for the right and wrong of the past, she wrote, "I put some fragments of this / Buried in the altar of memory to ferment / Put some trance memories and tenderness / Hidden in the desert of the heart." The rain was in the clouds, and the wind was on the way. Although Rufeng is not a bard, her poetic soul has always walked on the land of Xinjiang, and her poetry of Rufeng has injected more poetic elements into this ancient and magical land. Poetry cannot be equated with landscapes, and landscapes cannot be equated with poetry, but landscapes without poetry always make people feel that something is missing. Just think, if there is no Cui Hao's "Yellow Crane Tower", can the Yellow Crane Tower be famous for eternity? Without Du Fu's "Wangyue", can Taishan be so fascinating? In this sense, poetic elements are not only natural, but also humanistic, it is the intervention, solidification and fermentation of human emotions, the footprints left by poets on the earth, and the scratches left in the starry sky. Like the wind, like rain, and like electricity, her poetic walking, out of the scenery, is the mood, and poetry-like story, wonderful in the land of Xinjiang.