-Thoughts on studying in the Third School of Poetry of Sun Yat-sen University
Text/Dimfragrance Sleeve Pan Fengren
Yu Dan said: "the family is full of care, leaving the children with the habit of care;" The home is full of poetry, and the children are also marked with poetic traces. "
This summer, the air is filled with the faint fragrance of natural Gleditsia sinensis powder, which is refreshing. I took my son to Sun Yat-sen University to listen to poetry.
On the campus of Sun Yat-sen University, the trees are shaded, the school road is winding and secluded, the school building is simple and elegant, and the mother and son are accompanied. In the morning, we are all bathed in the sunshine of CUHK, breathing the fragrance of the lotus pond, stroking the softness of the lawn and feeling the erudition and nobility of Sun Yat-sen University. In the evening, we packed our schoolbags and let the sunset shine sideways. We rode a yellow car and wandered on every road in CUHK campus. Happy parent-child time makes our faces bloom with happiness.
Noble and elegant
I brought my three-year-old son to listen to poetry for the first time. It's Teacher Wang's "Sound by Sound-On the Beauty of Poetry".
On that day, Mr. Wang taught us to sing many beautiful and beautiful ancient poems, and taught us to sing in an easy-to-understand way without reservation. Seeing the scene of Teacher Wang sweating passionately on the podium, I feel very lucky to be able to enjoy the class of the best poetry teacher in China.
Zhang Haiou, a professor at Sun Yat-sen University, has a slightly gray hair and a straight hairstyle, lined with a beige or dark Chinese coat made of cotton and linen, a pair of ordinary dark pants and a pair of flat-bottomed old cloth shoes. He walked briskly and looked alert. He is the noblest and most elegant poetry teacher I have ever seen.
After the wonderful poetry class, Mr. Seagull trudged onto the platform, respectfully took the microphone from Mr. Wang and looked around the classroom affectionately. His throat seems to be stuck, and his Adam's apple is crawling up and down with difficulty. When the trembling voice came from the microphone, instead of Hong Zhong's strength, it hit the floor and penetrated the classroom of Chinese Room 207, beating the hearts of all the students like a hammer.
Then, Mr. Seagull put forward the motto of the poetic school-nobility and elegance, that is, pursuing nobleness when there is too much meanness, respecting awe when there is too much education, advocating elegance when there is too much vulgarity, stretching and softening when there is too much coldness, cherishing purity when there is too much pollution, and maintaining a poetic heart when there is too much utility. He said earnestly, "Every school of poetry is an international gathering of the elites in the field of poetry, and there is constant teaching exchange-teachers and students need to respect each other. This is the best professor poet in China University and the best poetic genius among students. In this issue 17 teachers preach and teach, and when they appear, they are poems. Every gentleman is a poem himself, offering students a feast of knowledge and poetry. I have deep love, trust, gratitude and awe for them. Some teachers may occasionally slip of the tongue, but they undoubtedly respect culture and academics and are good at understanding poetry. Smart students should be good at listening to lectures and always maintain noble awe and elegant feelings. " During this period, Mr. Seagull talked about a student who took a PhD exam and wrote him an apology letter saying that he didn't do well in the exam and was afraid to see the teacher. He felt that he had defiled the teacher's examination room. At that time, Mr. Zhang choked several times, and when he talked about the emotional place, he burst into tears. At that moment, I discovered that this lovely seagull teacher is the noblest, most elegant and most awesome teacher I have ever seen.
After class, I walked out of the classroom with tears in my eyes and sat outside the classroom waiting for my son. Smiled at me when I came out, and two lovely dimples held hands. I was so hot that I squatted down and picked up my son. I solemnly read Noble and Elegant twice. Seeing that I was so serious, the lovely jingle followed me to read it twice, and then with the child's doubts, she kept asking me, "Mom, what is noble and elegant?" What is nobility and elegance? "
Just as I was thinking about how to explain the noble and beautiful school motto of the poetry school to my son, Mr. Seagull and Mr. Wang came out of the back door of the classroom and stood at the long table in the corridor, spreading out rice paper and splashing ink, smelling the thick ink. I told my son that those two grandfathers who grinded ink inscriptions were the noblest and most elegant teachers my mother had ever seen!
Up to now, as long as he asks "elegance", his three-year-old son immediately says "grandpa teacher"; As long as you open the photo album of your mobile phone and see Mr. Seagull, your son will say "noble and elegant".
"The noble heart is elegant in shape." Even if my son can't really understand the meaning of nobility and elegance, fortunately, the seed of nobility and elegance was accidentally planted in his young mind. I only hope it can take root and sprout.
Ancient Poetry and Singing
I brought my son to listen to poetry for the second time.
That morning, the sun shone through the window, and through the glass window of the lecture hall of the Chinese Hall of Sun Yat-sen University, the towering old trees were like handfuls of giant umbrellas that covered the sun, and there were countless trunks of Wolong, as if they had been baptized by thousands of storms and lightning, and they were still winding and tall under the sunshine.
The young teacher Zhu Lixia is radiant and handsome in the sun. Zheng Zheng used to sit next to Mr Zhu. At that time, Mr. Zhu was preparing lessons on the table outside the classroom to check the information. At that time, we didn't know he was Mr. Zhu Lixia. I saw that he had a kind heart and said to Zheng Zheng, "You and your uncle are sitting here. This uncle is not a bad person. " Cute and funny teacher Zhu chatted with his son, who dropped his guard, sat down next to teacher Zhu and played with his own toys.
In the summer afternoon, cicadas are singing outside the window, and the classroom is still full of poetry. Today, Mr. Zhu gave us a lecture on "Chinese characters singing ancient poems is music score", and clank excitedly followed me to the last row of the lecture hall on the first floor of the Chinese Hall. Teacher Zhu Lixia, who has a glib tongue, has a clever and unique way of singing ancient poems. He is good at simplifying the complex and can teach us to sing all kinds of poems easily.
He said: "Chinese characters themselves are music scores. Everyone is a musician. You can write your own lyrics, compose your own music and sing your own songs. Everyone has their own art garden. " When Mr. Zhu teaches famous ancient poems, such as Thoughts on a Quiet Night, Tomb-Sweeping Day, Poems of Wandering Immortals and Mulan Poems, he always sings along with them. Although he is unconscious, as long as he can recite ancient poems, he will look up at the big screen on the podium and look at Mr. Zhu Lixia's passionate lecture with clear eyes. At that moment, I suddenly found that a large piece of sunshine bloomed in front of my eyes, and every word that clanked with us was like a sunflower, bright, crisp and warm, blooming in turn in the classroom.
At that time, three-year-old Zheng Zheng was quite enthusiastic about reciting ancient poems. I remember that after we finished eating vermicelli sausage on Xiadu Road, when my son peed, he sometimes looked at the big tree under his feet, sometimes looked up at the starry sky, and suddenly read aloud: "I lifted myself to look, and found that it was moonlight, and then sank, and I suddenly thought of home." On the bullet train, Zheng Zheng asked me, "Mom, can that grandfather buy wine?" Seeing the brightly lit boats passing by on the river, he asked me with a clank of consciousness, "Are Li Bai and Wang Lun good friends? Is Li Bai going away? "
In fact, when my son was less than two years old, I went to Thailand to teach for a year. I always owe clank too much maternal love. Since the successful completion of the teaching task, I have often recited Tang poems clandestinely. I went to Zhongshan University in Guangzhou this time to make up for the missing parent-child time between us. Unexpectedly, Zhu Lixia's singing class can inadvertently arouse my son's young and fragile poetic heart, and make him more childlike and poetic in the days when he is in class with me.
"Sneak into the night with the wind and moisten things silently." Teacher Zhu Lixia's words, like a drizzle, drop by drop, inadvertently, can also infiltrate young hearts.
Life and Poetic Mind
Once, many colleagues asked me, aren't you tired that you and your classmates each have a child? How do you attend classes? Every time, I smiled and said, "Tired and happy! Take your son, take your tape recorder and take turns listening to poetry. "
From the first lesson of Politics, Body and Literature by Peng Yuping to the last lesson of Poetry Philosophy and Poetry Aesthetics by Hu Xiaoming of the Third Graduate School of Poetry of Sun Yat-sen University, as an observer, I listened carefully to every teacher's poetry every day and carefully recorded the harvest of each lesson. Occasionally, I secretly took my son, sat in the classroom of Chinese Hall of Sun Yat-sen University, listened quietly, and bathed in the poetic hearts of the best teachers in China, such as President Zhang Haiou and Teacher Peng Yuping. My son was impressed and set an example. In this way, happiness is beyond words, so why bother?
I remember Professor Peng Yuping from Sun Yat-sen University. He is knowledgeable, elegant, talented and humorous. At the opening ceremony, he said: "Life is not only a poem in front of us, but also a more agile poetic mind and a higher poetic realm. Poetry is never far away. Poetry is soaked in our lives, soaked in our blood and never far away. " Many times, we are always in a hurry and forget to appreciate the scenery on both sides of the road.
In the days of teaching in Thailand, under extremely difficult circumstances in all aspects, with an immortal poetic heart, I took pains to repeatedly teach Thai children to sing our ancient poems of China in foreign classrooms. In the Chinese academic competition in western Thailand, the Thai children I coached won the gold medal in the competition of singing and reciting China's classical poems. Even if they can't really understand the profound meaning of poetry, the heart of poetry is borderless, and poetry is * * *.
I believe that a poetic heart is like a flower, which will bloom only after being honed and trudged. We may not see the result of what we are doing now, but we are not afraid. We are not growing, but taking root.
At the opening ceremony of the School of Poetry, Professor Peng also said emotionally: "People who really like poetry must be good people. Looking at the clear eyes of the audience, I think it will definitely reflect the magical fog. Therefore, I am convinced that the poetic mind is indeed immortal. " In the Song Dynasty, Su Shi said in the poem Haitang: "East wind waves, worship light. The fragrance and fog are empty, and the moon turns to the corridor. I'm afraid the flowers will fall asleep at night, so I light candles and put on red makeup. " Su Shi was worried that she would fall asleep at night, while Professor Peng Yuping of Sun Yat-sen University was worried that if she fell asleep, she would never wake up, so she changed it to "I'm afraid she would fall asleep at night". What a "poetic mind does not sleep". Wonderful!
"Baiyun Mountain is high and the Pearl River is long." In the evening, after the summer rain in Guangzhou, the sun is brighter, the sky is bluer and the clouds are whiter. My college roommate and I, each holding our son's hand, strolled along the banks of the Pearl River, watching the sunset, watching the waves roll and listening to the waves collide, allowing the sea breeze to sing freely and spread the spirit of poetry. I only hope that we can "keep our poetry heart alone and make lofty promises." ?