The most disgusting thing about these so-called new poems is that they seem to describe the process of a man and a woman (maybe BL or GL) going from not realizing that they are happy to being unable to speak out to being separated. . .
Quack~~~~
This is a pure fu style poem that uses line drawings entirely. The language is clean and concise, and the sentences are natural. Moreover, the entire poem is permeated with the ambiguity, uncertainty, and vagaries of words unique to symbolism—a complex flavor that is difficult to express. As an overall symbol, its symbolic meaning is extremely clear; however, its symbolic meaning is also extremely divergent, and readers can make extremely free interpretations and associations.
“The idea is unexpected, and it flows with it. Although those who seek ink (people who use will, meaning, rational thinking, etc. to understand and understand) cannot predict its thread... Only the quality can be determined. , so there can be no definite text.” (Wang Fuzhi) The quality mentioned here is actually the body. The body is alive, and the will is a dead thing obtained from knowledge. It is activated by the living body of poetry that the so-called “poetry” appears. "No Dagu", "A Thousand Hamlets". Therefore, in my opinion, whether it can be read correctly and interpreted correctly is an important indicator to distinguish the quality of a poem. Good poetry will always only produce "misreadings" because it is ambiguous, vague, and vague. The so-called "The words are endless but the meaning is endless" refers to this.
Now let’s look at this poem that I think can cause “misreading”:
“In January you haven’t appeared yet / In February you were sleeping next door / In March it started to fall "Heavy Rain" - the whole is a narrative - this is exactly what a first-time reader would say. But once we dig deeper, we will find that the author seems to be using montage to tell us a desolate and helpless story: In January, only "I" stood alone in the whole incident, and the other protagonist of the story was far from here. Appeared; in February, you slowly came closer to me, and I seemed to be able to hear your gentle breathing next door; one day in March, I was imagining your sweet sleeping posture and your innocent smile, but it was a pity that it rained heavily It awakened my fantasies and your sweet dreams...
Look further down: "In April, there are roses everywhere/In May, we sat across from each other as if in a dream, and June has arrived/In June The grass is in full bloom and fragrant everywhere/In July, the waves of wheat roll with joy and sorrow to the end of the sky/August is August/I keep my mouth shut in August. In August, I am the water in the bottle and you are the clouds in the blue sky.” Let us continue the story just now: I just mentioned the heavy rain. After a heavy rain, white roses are swaying everywhere. "A pear blossom brings rain in spring." The rose petals soaked in raindrops look like your face with a touch of sadness. ; In May, we can finally look at each other, whisper and talk to each other - it all comes so quickly, it all seems like a dream; just like this, I walk with you through a dream filled with the smell of blooming grass; in the blink of an eye, seven The month is here, "miserable and pitiful". In July, under the cover of a wave of wheat, we finally completed an ancient, passionate and mysterious ritual - we can finally be integrated into one; in August it seems Nothing happened. I have always kept the secret ceremony between us secret. You are the drop of happy water in the bottle that I protect tightly. However, you are the cloud far away from me. What is it? Let us be thousands of miles apart...
"September and October are two eyes, filled with the sea/You are on the sea and I am under the sea/November has not yet come/I look through its window I saw heavy snow in December." September and October are the days that make me miss you painfully. You are on the sea and I am under the sea. Unfortunately, the distance between our hearts is too far. November and December have not yet come, but I have already passed through the window of time. Seeing that there will be a heavy snow ahead that will bury you and me...
In this way, what was originally an ordinary time sequence change is rendered ups and downs by the story of the protagonist. This is the charm of poetry. location.