Be quiet! On the edge of the forest
I can't hear you.
What humans often say.
Only heard in the distance.
Raindrops and leaves
The latest news.
Listen! Rain Water
Falling from the sparse clouds.
It landed on salty and burnt things.
Tamarind tree
Fall on a fish scale
On a pine tree covered with needles
Fall on the sacred
Myrtle gyro
Drop clusters of blooming flowers
Plantagenet
Fall on pine nuts, full of fragrance.
Larch treetop
It fell on us again.
Forest-scented
In sb's face
Fall on us
* * * hand
Fall on us
On light clothes
Fall on the revived heart
rush out
With new thinking
Fall on a beautiful fable
It lied to you yesterday,
You lied to me again today,
Hey, Amy Anne.
Did you hear that? Rain Water
Knocked down in loneliness
Cuilvli
Make a clicking sound.
Sound stays in the air.
With the density of leaves
Not sure.
Listen! Cicada's song
Echoing the cry of the rain;
No matter how the south cries,
The gray sky is fine,
Not afraid of cicadas.
Pine hair
One voice, Myrtle
Send out another kind, larch
Another kind-like
Countless fingers
Play all kinds of musical instruments.
We are with the forest elves.
Comprehensive quality
Living in the forest;
And your ecstatic face
Be lightly covered with rain
Like a leaf,
And a few strands of your hair
Like a beautiful broom.
Give off bursts of fragrance.
Oh, your Amy Anne.
The elves on the ground.
Listen, listen!
In the growing momentum
In the crying rain
Chorus of cicadas in the air
Gradually weaken;
But from the distance below,
In the damp shadow
But a song came out,
The sound is rough.
Soon, it became more and more
Weak, dull,
Finally fell silent.
There's only one voice.
Still shaking, and then disappeared,
Then the vibrato.
Then disappear.
You can't hear the sound of the sea here.
Now on every leaf
We heard a silver shower.
Pour down,
Raindrops follow the density of leaves.
There are endless changes.
Listen!
The daughter of air
Silent, but far away
Daughter of the ocean
And frogs
Singing in the depths of the shadows.
Who knows where it is!
Who knows where it is!
Rain also falls on your eyelashes,
Amy Anne。
Rain falls on your black eyelashes,
So you seem
Tears of joy.
You come out from behind the bark.
It's not white
But it almost turned green,
All our lives.
It is fresh and fragrant.
The heart in our chest
Like a peach that has never been touched.
The eye in the middle of the eyelid
Like spring in the grass
Teeth in the gums
Like sour almonds.
We passed through
One bush after another.
Some are continuous and some are scattered.
Rough and vibrant green.
Grab our ankles.
Wrapped around our knees),
Who knows where it is,
Who knows where it is!
The rain fell on us.
Forest-scented
On the face,
Fall on us
* * * hand,
Fall on us
On light clothes,
Fall on the revived heart
rush out
With new thinking
Fall on a beautiful fable
It lied to you yesterday,
You lied to me again today,
Oh, Amy Anne
(translated by Qian Hongjia)
The intuitive feeling of reading this poem is that the style is fresh and the language is free and easy, just like a bright rain, which drenches you from head to toe. But looking back, if you ask what you got from it, you must be at a loss. The beauty of this poem is that it makes you involuntarily moved by its magic, but it seems to have no content. It does not impose any meaning on you, but lets you unconsciously unload the burden of thought and wash away the dirt in the world in a pure picture and a brisk rhythm.
At the beginning of the poem, I gave you an order: "Be quiet!" . When you read it, you enter the boundary of poetry from our noisy world. In this country, you "can't hear ... what humans often say", and it has its own language: rain falling on leaves is a language, which falls on tamarind trees, pine trees or broom, making different sounds and expressing different meanings. And this kind of meaning is beyond human understanding. Humans claim to be rational animals. They firmly believe that language is the carrier of thinking, but they don't know how limited this language is. It is this language that separates the living from the real state of the world and people. As soon as a person speaks, he is isolated from the world. However, art tries to restore harmony and intimacy between man and the world. Poetry is not so much a so-called language as another language. It uses the language of color, image, feeling and sound. You see, rain falls not only on plants, but also on our faces and hands, even on abstract thoughts and fables. Poetry tells us something in the language of sound, image and feeling. When we listened attentively, we forgot the everyday language and stopped thinking. What are those "thoughts" and "fables" for another language? Maybe we have all been cheated. The appearance of Amy Anne, the image of an earth spirit, adds to the extraordinary and mysterious atmosphere of this poem. The following is the symphony of rain conducted by the poet. It is "changeable", taking the earth as the stage and "playing all kinds of musical instruments". Among these ten thousand kinds of stereos, how beautiful the elves on the ground have become because they are moved! People also like to look brand-new, one by one "fresh fragrance", even the face is "the smell of trees"! At this time, the gap between man and nature has been eliminated and become intimate.
The most prominent feature of this poem is the beauty of melody of language. As if responding to the rhythm and melody of the rain in the pine forest, the length of the poem is patchy and unpredictable. Because the rhythm of rain is faster and the lines are shorter; Because of the symphony effect of rain falling on different objects, parallelism is often used in poetry; In order to set off the atmosphere, variations of cicadas and frogs are introduced into the main theme of Rain, and repeated techniques are used. The continuous rain makes the relationship between the lines in the poem close and coherent, giving people the feeling of flowing water. However, after all, poetry is not only a combination of sounds, but also an organic combination of sounds, pictures and colors. The combination of realism and surrealism (the image of the fairy Amy Anne) increases the charm of this poem, as if in the melody of rain, people are really extraordinary and reach the realm of god. In short, it can be said that this is a so-called "meaningless poem" in the West. You don't need to dig up any symbols or metaphors here. Its language itself is everything, and it is a self-sufficient world. The key to appreciate it is that we are prepared to enter it with a detached mind. (Hu Xing)