Yongming Zhai's Mother does not simply regard maternal love as a universal theme of pure fraternity or fraternity, but links this theme with other motifs related to self-subjectivity activities.
Through her own body, from mother to daughter, women have engraved all the situations in history in physical trauma: loneliness, pure love, the inevitable feeling of birth and separation, the inevitability of death and its power to her daughter. ...
Style characteristics: the complexity sought in the continuous excavation of female experience has reached the reflection of patriarchal culture, thus having feminist significance.
-Main reference: Chapter 9 of Zhou Zan's Periscope of Poetry Writing: the voice and narrative mode of Yongming Zhai's poetry.
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There are too many places I can't reach. My feet hurt. Mom, don't.
Teach me to catch the old sadness in the greedy sunrise. My heart is the same as yours.
You are my mother. I even shed your blood at dawn.
You were surprised to see yourself in a pool of blood. You woke me up.
Hearing the voice of the world, you gave birth to me, and you made me suffer misfortune.
Terrible twins in this world. For years, I don't remember crying tonight.
The light that makes you pregnant, how far it is, how suspicious it is, stands on the line of life and death.
Suddenly, there is darkness in front of your eyes, and how heavy the shadow enters the soles of your feet.
In your arms, I had a mysterious smile. Who knows?
You made me understand everything in a virgin way, but I was indifferent.
I regard this world as a virgin. Did I send it to you?
Haven't the hearty laughter burned enough in summer? No?
I was abandoned in this world, alone and sad with the light of the sun.
Hanging over me, do you know what is left when you bend over the world?
Years sent me to the mill and let me see myself crushed.
Oh, mom, were you happy when I finally became silent?
No one knows how irrelevant I love you, this secret.
From a part of you, my eyes look at you like two wounds.
In order to live, I killed myself to fight against eternal love.
A stone is abandoned until it dries up like bone marrow, and the world
Some orphans exposed all the blessings, but who knows best?
Anyone who stands on the mother's hand will eventually die because of birth.
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Years sent me to the mill and let me see myself crushed.
Oh, mom, were you happy when I finally became silent?