Just like the scenery described by Thoreau: "The high-altitude sun finally broke through the sky after a bitter cold day and before sunset." In the distance, the withered grass stems under the canopy, the leaves and oak bushes on the hillside suddenly immersed in a soft and dazzling light, and our own figure also extended to the east of the grassland, as if it were just a little dust in the oblique light. "
When I was a girl, I was like a dot in such light and shadow.
I come from an ancient and beautiful county, and the mountains are the dividing point. Home is on this side of the mountain, and the distance is on the other side. Crossing this demarcation point is to bid farewell to growth. When I was a girl, I often walked through the forest alone, climbed to the highest cliff, watched the sunset, the sky and clouds, and watched the mountains rise and fall, feeling a gloomy fate in my heart. I know that one day, I will go to the other side of the mountain, a brand-new world-a vast world, where my fate and love are waiting for me.
In this whirling world of light and shadow, I built my own distance. A small town girl full of romance and dreams, as small as dust and as passionate as wildfire.
Fate is my only way, although I have a premonition of its heartbreak and sadness, poetry is a way of self-healing.
The world is changing every day, but there are always some things that have not changed: the sun and moon in the sky, the creatures on the earth, the years of mountains and rivers, and the joys and sorrows of the world. I am alive, in love, in days, in words, growing up in difficult years, and sheltering from the wind and rain here.
The best moment has not yet arrived, and I live in the present and hope.
When I wrote this article, it was the end of 2020, the epidemic was still going on, and life had not completely returned to normal. In the long quiet and idle days, I unexpectedly gained a solemn and introspective atmosphere, and my lonely heart was full of quiet time and made a real "self-exploration".
When the epidemic started at the beginning of the year, read Herman? Hesse's Song of the Lonely: "The more I venture to one end, the more I expose myself, the more I criticize mercilessly, the more I am willing to indulge in whimsy, and the brighter the light at the other end." Without this endless and constantly mobilized adjustment, how can I have the courage to expose myself, make my own decisions, feel and express my love and hate with all my strength, and how can I have the courage to survive in this world? "
So in the past six months, I have tried my best to expose myself and criticize myself mercilessly. In the extreme burning and disillusionment, I can still feel that love and that vigorous poetic heart. So I am extremely sure that only in love and poetry can my soul feel the real existence. At any time, I don't want to lose my imagination, my impulse to life, my passion for beauty-they give me the meaning of living, they make me fearless of the bitterness in life, and my heart will always be broad and bright.
I am not a qualified poet. This tender and tender collection of poems is only to give myself an explanation and achieve a song that belongs to me only:
"In order to find something really worthy of praise.
I have never been touched in my life.
A trance-like life, shallow love, and a hollow reputation.
They are not worth it.
I also thought about praising the river, the sky and human suffering.
But I am a speck, too big to belong to me.
Willing to be lonely and dusty, half-life is wandering.
How many wasteland and deserts have I walked through?
How many trembling clouds have you plucked?
Bear the pain in the strong wind.
With the oldest motherhood and compassion
Dizziness, confusion and ups and downs
Waiting for the only compliment
There must be something to celebrate.
It is rich, solemn and profound, reflecting the whole universe.
There must be a compliment that belongs only to me. "
Everything is nothing more than performance, and everyone is the vibration of the string of the universe, especially in 2020.
Looking back at the "dancing world" in my memory, when I looked at the distance, in the shadows of trees and the hazy sky, I imagined the fate of birds rising to the earth. Of course, I didn't expect that even in the most glorious years of my life, I was walking alone in the wilderness. Loneliness is the normal state of life, and lonely wildfire is the light of progress.
This collection of poems contains works of the past five years, most of which are love poems-yes, there is always a deep feeling in my heart, as if what happened in the past is like a dream of light and shadow, and only this feeling exists like breathing. In this rapidly changing era, "love" is the only thing I can be sure of, the only warmth I have in the wilderness, and the source of all poetry.
Before the publication of this collection of poems, I was lucky enough to get an inscription by Mr. Liu Shahe. Shortly after the inscription, Mr. Liu died in the crane. Therefore, the word "dancing world" is the last Mo Bao that Mr. Liu left to the world. I think of those years when I read Star Poetry magazine as a teenager, and how those profound and beautiful words lit up a child's heart. Thanks to Mr. Liushahe, we planted stars in the long night until the stars were flying-under the starry sky, we continued to walk on the road that our predecessors had walked, with their thoughts, flashes and shadows on the road, and we were amazed and full of poetry.
Thank you, Mr Xiong Peiyun, for translating the title "The Beautiful World Withered" for me. There is a poem that withers in a beautiful world-this is also my philosophy of life: the meaning of life is to dance in a desperate world, mixed with sadness and joy.
Thanks to Mr. Nie Zuoping for his preface to this collection of poems, and also thanks to Mr. Huang Zheng for his dedication to this collection of poems.
Thank the people I love, thank all the people who care about me.
Get away from the chaotic 2020, continue to live a vigorous life, walk a long way, enter the narrow door, watch the twilight, bit by bit, and strive to live a colorful life. Near middle age, people once again built a whirling world and a poetic distance for themselves. In the whirling light, let go of the burden of life, get close to your heart again and again, and get close to the truth of life again and again-this is the practice of life and the way home for the soul.
"One day.
You will use the deepest sadness
Walk into your own shadow
Let the half-life love, hate, ups and downs gather in the shadow.
Write an epic about yourself.
The theme is the chain of fate and the river of time.
When you walk into your own shadow
In the eternal sunshine
Bend down and let go of the shackles of fate
Throw it into the river of time.
You'll get through it.
On the other side, sit quietly.
Despair in silence.
Become an ordinary and great dust.
Stumbling in the direction of the Milky Way—
Return to the embrace of the universe. "
The rotating world is just a light spot, and this light spot is its universe.
Hu 20201the evening of October 28th 10.