On that occasion, the book "Poems of Pushkin" let me know about him. Some people grew up watching his poems, and I have an instinctive aversion to foreign poems, but I didn't know his works until the last year of junior high school. "The sun of Russian poetry", a sacred and brilliant thing, I always fear. But I didn't expect that he was so approachable, with a tolerant smile, patting me on the shoulder like a brother: "everything is instantaneous, and everything will pass;" And the past will become a kind of nostalgia. "
I raised my face, picked up the book and put it in my arms. Sunshine then followed the coat, climbed onto the chest and sneaked into the heart. There is light between heaven and earth.
Like the ending of all happy novels, I cheered up, which included the persuasion of many teachers, friends and parents. The power of that book finally shocked me. I started reading foreign poems, especially Pushkin's. I like his flowing, unadorned nature, the bright sunshine in his poems, his passionate burning heart, and his dance of freedom and love, youth and life.
No one will think that Pushkin's life course is happy, just as no one can deny his greatness. His short life is full of too many contradictions between ideal and reality, and he struggles awkwardly in the cracks. The tsar hated him, the nobles rejected him, and his wife could not understand him. But genius is not lonely after all. He is like a proud lion, regardless of the haze, holding up the sun and spreading the light to the world and people's gloomy and confused hearts.
I deeply admire Pushkin's shining personality in that dark age. And the past when I was young made me more attached to him. So many times, when I run down the road of life, I always feel that there are a pair of warm eyes watching me behind me, gently encouraging me: "If life deceives you ..."
Yes, many years have passed since I first met him. My mood is no longer as extreme as when I was young. At that time, putting your thoughts too high will inevitably hurt yourself. Life flows like water, and it is too sharp for me to wear off the ideal tip sincerely and inevitably. I have become less anxious. I can slow down and look at the scenery along the way. I can even stop, pick up the stream by the road and watch the reflection of the sky and the clouds stretch quietly in it. Now that I think about it, that setback is really nothing. I have to thank my unknown friend for giving me this book, which shines with Pushkin's sunshine at that impressionable age. It is not too late. When the soul is not bound by time and sophistication, nobility and light come in and I accept it. So I sang "If Life Deceived You", "I remember that wonderful moment" and "Wish" along the way. Life has taken several turns inadvertently.