The first time I got to know Adonis was when I was asked to write an essay in high school based on a verse from his collection of poems "My Loneliness is a Garden": "The world has left me covered with bruises, but the wounds grow But it is wings" to write a proposition composition. At that time, I was deeply attracted by the name of this poetry collection and thought I must read it.
If Haizi made me fall in love with poetry, then my love must have started with Adonis. The loneliness of Adonis is a garden, where, "What is a tree? The green lake/The waves are the wind", "What is the rainbow? The body of the clouds/And the body of the sun/On top of the body of the earth/Bend to embrace each other ", "What is a sunset? Sweat falling from the sun." In his writings, rain is the support of the wind, the wind is the swing of the rain, the air is the soul that does not want to settle in the body, the coast is the pillow where the waves rest, the meteors are the arrows that fly out to crush and die, and the roses It is the head that grows to be beheaded, the soil is the future of the body, the dust is the sigh from the lungs of the earth, the sky is the broken ladder that has just been climbed, the night is the blindfold that covers the face of the sun, and the book of stars for sale bookseller, the moon is the faithful servant of the sun, and poetry is a sailing ship without a dock.
Adonis's garden is like a small boat walking on the vast rivers and lakes, or like a rose garden in the sky. It is poetic, gorgeous, and a little sad. And he is like a swordsman. In a garden with only one tree, he uses the pen in his hand to make the days dance, and he also uses the pen to fight and grow. After reading his poems, those common images seem to have new meanings. "Wind has no clothes; time has no home. They are the two poor people who own the whole world." And I, also with empty hands, seemed to embrace the whole world when I read this sentence. I became the child named crazy in his works, playing the most beautiful game in the garden of reason. Time is the wind, no matter how it floats in joy or settles in sorrow, it always blows from the direction of death, and the front belongs only to life. “Your body is a rose in your path, a rose that dies and blooms at the same time.”
I live, I walk in his garden, I see leaves falling from the trees like earrings from the ears of the wind, I see his dreams grow in the direction of childhood, I saw him holding a rose in his hand when he was sad, and the rose turned into a green light when he was happy. I saw his wheat ears bending with the wind, pointing the way to parting for the wind. I saw the snow in the name of love sweeping him away. Burning, I saw him walking - one foot in the ashes and one foot on the edge of time. I saw him searching for the last feathers in his blind eyes, writing autumn poems on the green grass. As he said, words are buds that can only bloom in the embrace of mist.
Reading his poems is like being in a poetic world of parallel time and space. Everything is shrouded in a mysterious veil. They are so familiar and yet so hazy, as if they have been asleep. Jiu suddenly came to life again, arranged and combined to form a picture, which stirred my nerves and danced in my mind.
"I live among clouds and sparks, in a growing stone, in a book that teaches secrets and corruptions." Adonis was born in a seaside village in Syria. Poverty and isolation blocked his escape route, and the religious atmosphere of his family was like a shackle, locking away the freedom of language expression.
His life has been a confrontation for a long time. In this confrontation, he was always concerned about the situation of his country and nation. Time and space were condensed in his writing, and everything exploded in his writing. It shows strong vitality, and behind the unruly posture is the light of hope hidden under the dark background, the pulse of life that is ready to die.
"However, I live, and every branch from the valley and the tree of time is the flame on my forehead, devouring the earth that protects me." He was once imprisoned for his political activities, and was ostracized by his compatriots and left his homeland because of his different views. He lived in a foreign country for most of his life, but he never gave up his pursuit and transcendence. His life is burning, he reflects on the war, and he misses the motherland. He said that "the nation is a poem, and the individual is the word in it."
He transcended the time and space of Arabia and looked at this era. What he saw always reminded him of ashes. He knew that "a brave body and a cowardly mind: this is a sign of social decay and degeneration." Looking forward to change, "I felt dizzy as I stared at the ashes that drowned the world; I woke up only when I imagined the creator's head burning angrily all around, and the wings of poetry fluttering above the ashes." He angrily attacks reality and overlooks everything in the world. He is rebellious, but this rebellion comes from his sincerity and love. Despair has fingers, but it can only grasp dead butterflies. With a tired soul, he filled up the lake of hope again and again, and was disappointed again and again, but he never gave up hope. How many people succumbed to the darkness that already existed, and he succumbed to the dawn that never existed.
Writing a poem is writing about his entire civilization. Adonis's poems are not just about the wind, flowers, snow, moon, sun, moon and stars, or the loneliness caused by sleepless nights in sadness. His poems are about war and the motherland, about life and love. “I command the stars, I stop and watch, I enthrone myself as the king of the wind.
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His poems are filled with his concern for the common people in the world, and are also filled with his thoughts about life and death. He lives with light, he is the king of wind and light, in the sky of his words Here, he is the master of all things, and "death is the most profound creation of life." "Everything will die, except humans. Death comes to him." And he, like the fearless knight, A pot of turbid wine roams the world, a sword in one hand, and a rose in the other, chivalrous and courageous, yet tender.
"You will see my poetry become the king of light, you are my ray of light, in my heart. The words are burning. "Language is the most powerful weapon for a literary worker. And Adonis mastered language, and despite the ups and downs, he finally mastered the only way to fight. "Poetry is paradise, forever wandering in the territory of language." Poetry is He is the carrier of resistance, but he feels exiled for life, in every sentence he writes.
He is the king of wind, his loneliness sows his seeds, and he grows in the direction of light. .