The field came into my room.
Birds open their green arms and chirp on their wrists.
The leaves are also dancing.
It holds a river in its hand,
The sky over the field also entered the room.
Holding a basket of newly picked gems and stars in his hand.
The sea is sitting beside me,
Spread his white tail wave on the floor.
In the silence, the tree of music rose upright,
There are wonderful languages hanging on the treetops.
Shiny, mature, falling,
My forehead is like a cave, and my mind is like a bolt of lightning. ...
All have wings.
Tell me, is it true that the fields have come all the way?
Or do you dream of coming to me on the battlefield?
(Translated by Chen Guangfu)
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Pass's ideas and thoughts on poetry creation were vividly reflected in this interview. He combines romanticism, surrealism and rich imagination, which makes poetry form a dreamlike atmosphere, unpredictable in space and very novel in artistic conception.
"Through the brick barricade, through the night/field of boring city, into my room." The field enters the poet's room through the boring city. This expression is particularly novel. It broke the boundaries of space, surpassed realism with rich imagination, and entered its own unique poetic realm in one sentence. When the field came into the room, the room suddenly lit up. The field "opens its green arms" and "the bird chirps on its wrist" in the room, and the leaves feel the cheerful atmosphere and dance. The field seems to have a kind of magic, "it holds a river in its hand", and even "the sky over the field brings it into the house" and "holds a basket of newly picked jewels-stars".
The poet's imagination is jumping. In addition to the beautiful spirit of the field, there is also a vigorous sea "sitting beside me" and "stretching white coda waves on the floor". At this time, his room became a symbol of nature, and he could listen to the sounds of nature. In the silence, the tree of music rises from the ground,/all kinds of wonderful languages hang on the treetops,/shine and mature. At this time, time and space overlap, the world seems eternal, the poet's imagination reaches its peak, and readers enjoy this rare beauty with the author in this magical imagination space.
This scene is so bizarre that the poet's thoughts are dancing in this natural "room": "My forehead is like a cave, my thoughts are like lightning .../Everyone has wings." Even poets are wondering: "Is it really a long-distance visit from other places?" "Or are you dreaming in other places and dreaming of coming to me?" Whose dream is it? This is a matter of time and space. On the surface, it seems that the author is really looking for the answer. In fact, the author wants to use this question to make the finishing point and set off a mysterious atmosphere: an atmosphere that is both realistic and unrealistic, mysterious and not mysterious. A passage once said by the poet helps us to understand poetry: "The world has no boundaries, but it is always within reach. Time is a malleable substance, a gift without cracks. ..... I think the world is splitting: I'm not here now. My schedule is falling apart now: the real time is somewhere else. My time ... is a kind of fake time. Aside from my feelings, it's someone else's time. The real moment is real. " It is this "false time" that brings us into the magical world of poetry, and this view of time also causes the discontinuity and endless changes from sentence to sentence and from paragraph to paragraph.
(Dang Xiaolin)