Thoughts on Su Shi's Poems

When I first read Su Dongpo's Jiangchengzi, I was almost stunned. There is such a large capacity behind such a simple poem. The sad capacity has gone through hundreds of years, through the thin paper back, and almost reached my bone marrow: "Ten years of life and death are boundless, I don't think about it, and I will never forget it. I have nothing to say. Even if I met you, I didn't know it. My face was dusty and my temples were frosty. In the evening, I have a dream of going home. Xiao Xuan window is being dressed. Dwarf Songshan. " I think there must be some kind of energy there. Will be lonely energy that I don't understand. The loneliness of Su Dongpo, a great writer, may have happened suddenly that night hundreds of years ago, and it was as gorgeous as a flaming tree. Even today, it seems that you can still touch the light of pain like crackle. At this time, Su Dongpo was working as a modest official in Mizhou, Anhui Province. It was in 1075, when he was just 39 years old and all the men were doing their careers. Although the court paid little attention to him, he still worked for a common people, but in the dead of night, he was surrounded by unknown loneliness. At this time, he remembered his wife Wang, who had been dead for ten years, the woman who had been standing behind him but died early. Su Shi was banished to Huangzhou, Hubei. Here, he took a big step towards loneliness, thinking and maturity. If his loneliness in Jiangchengzi is full of depression, then from his poems in Huangzhou, he finds that his loneliness has taken a big step forward, thinking, drinking and singing alone in the gradually calm night. His loneliness sublimated into a kind of loneliness of "picking up all the cold branches and refusing to live". I'm not Su Shi. I can't imagine how lonely he was standing in front of a desolate porch in the Song Dynasty, sighing and writing poems. However, this bright stabbing pain has actually crossed the long river of more than 900 years, and slowly penetrated into my heart on the same cold night. I once again read Yu's article Su Dongpo's Breakthrough. Trying to find the answer in his works, he said: "Su Dongpo is very bitter in Huangzhou, and his poems are beautiful, which is a struggle and transcendence of suffering." Duras, a French woman writer, asks endlessly in her works, "What makes loneliness sound?" For a time, it became the motto of all lonely people. What makes loneliness and loneliness, and the collision between lonely people? The female writer asked, smiling at the vagaries of life, fate and love, with a trace of vicissitudes and ridicule in her mouth. I can't answer either, but I know that such a collision must be met, unattainable, just like a long night of silence like water, and a friend from afar suddenly slammed the door, which would be an unparalleled sound of nature. Boya and Zhong Ziqi met it more than 1000 years ago. Mountains and rivers are the witness of this meeting. There is no word "loneliness" in the whole article, but at this moment, I can read it all over my eyes, just like the trees are full of autumn colors and the shadows are swaying. The leaves of the word are scattered into mud, all the backgrounds are far away, and the remaining branches and bones stand out coldly, showing a shocking color, like a relief, proud and hard. Excluding yourself, you will be as transparent as crystal, but it will be a warm hand for those who feel the same way. For a person with noble personality, the end of loneliness is not a process in which your back collapses, but a majestic gesture of standing up.