Excerpts and appreciation of the original poem are as follows:
The original poem of the 73rd sonnet is:
You can see autumn in me,
When all the yellow leaves fall, or only twos and threes are left.
Hanging from the withered branches, the cable is shaking-
Hundreds of birds once sang in the abandoned music scene.
You may have seen the light in me,
After sunset, it disappeared to the west;
Night, the incarnation of death, gradually drives it away,
Yan Jing's rest cage is full of colorful things.
You may see embers on me,
It withered in the cold ashes of youth,
Sooner or later, you will lose your soul in a bleak mental bed.
Destroyed by the flame that nourished you.
Seeing this, your love will be strengthened.
Because he's leaving you soon.
Appreciate:
At the root of the poet's life, there really exists the despair of "being able to be what that desire requires", which is the birth of this "desire", and this desire is the invention of "no resentment and no comfort".
From this sonnet, I see some hidden pain coming out of autumn, hanging in the sunset, heading for the final hope, hidden between lovers and death metaphors. Yes, you can only focus on the structure, analyze the flow of poetry, and even attempt to deconstruct it; You can also insist on word for word, out of the book bag, the so-called progressive image, the epigram at the end, you caught it, and covered up your rational inference through rational analysis, or you just visualized the poem and tapped the impact of color, and the dark yellow of autumn banished people's will, and then, disappointed, wearing black mourning clothes, you just wanted to attend the funeral of the desperate, and the temperature and temperature of the poem. Based on the principle of heat transfer, the heat in words is wonderfully transferred to your mind through visual media, so your frozen head is quietly thawed and you are soaked with some kind of despair like water.
I am willing to measure a poem by temperature, not just by mechanical reasoning and analysis. The emotional flow like water has a temperature-the temperature in the flow. Not only does a poem have a constant water temperature when it is still, but you can even feel the subtle temperature difference between words and phrases caused by the friction between molecules in the flow. This temperature difference is precisely the reason why poetry can enter the depths of readers' souls. The temperature difference in this poem is reflected in the approach of "death", which is precisely because the lover will expel himself and decide to give up the state of love. This kind of stimulation makes people almost give up their lives.
"A little bit in love with a quiet death", thinking of this poem by Keats. In this line full of images of death, readers' melancholy is slowly blackened by death. It seems that as a fragile person who has been hit by love moves towards anxiety and revenge after being lovelorn, the shadow of sadness in his heart gradually blurs, making people sensitive, and the sign of sensitivity is sadness. Quiet dynamic is this process, not just static. The falling of "yellow leaves", the fading of "twilight" and the burning of "flame" of life are all symbols of the gradual disappearance of life energy. These dynamic metaphors of death are used to express the individual's anxiety about the loss of love, showing the profound imbalance between the individual's internal vitality and the external world, which is the indifference of love to love. In my opinion, the lost love will eventually end in flame, which is a precursor to revenge. When the feeling is completely lost and the heart is completely dead because of the loss of love, some kind of resistance will be as strong as a flame. When "death" is about to reach the extreme, the color of poetry will become thick again in the raging fire, from the beginning of "dark yellow" to "night", suddenly it is a desperate red. This resistance. In "I", you not only see the disappearance of life energy, but also see "I" trying to get rid of the imagination of the object-lover with his own "death" and take revenge by trying to transfer desperate love to the object. "Seeing this, your love will be strengthened." With the departure of the object of love, you will be empty because there is no physical "love" and suffer from such a broken love. This is my revenge on you, and this revenge is not evil, but because of the warmth and depth of love.
The appearance of "flame" at the end of the poem is in sharp contrast with the gradual silence of death. The heat of love does not seem to fade at all because of the approach of death, but becomes stronger. "I" tried to get rid of my lover's imagination with death, but outside of poetry, my imagination smoldered in my mind, just like the coal that had not been extinguished began to burn again; The abandoned things appeared again: the unclosed grave suddenly hissed.
I saw the opposite of the disappearance of life, that is, love was taken up again in the process of transmission. The temperature actually rose on the cold body surface, almost melting the body into water, and despair but passion flowed into my consciousness.
One-way love is endless torture, and death, like fatigue, cunningly invades the whole body at a speed. Death is a sign of love leaving? Not necessarily. I am a slave to symbols, and love is a symbol of pain. In vain, I used poetry to find medicine for fatigue in pain, and finally only thought of death and the transmission of love after death. In this way, my love did not die with death. In this way, I always succumb to an object, and I can't have any control over it. I fell in love with it and was controlled by it. My love is eternal life after death, and what "grows forever" is vanity. My love is also my torture.
I thought of what roland barthes once said: "Anxiety, possession, expression, conformity, the feelings of lovers are once again ignited everywhere." It's like I want to hug someone who is about to disappear-I'm about to abandon him-for the last time: I refuse to part. "I think the beauty of this poem lies in embracing the love that will continue with the coldness of death, whether for revenge or otherwise.