Duya Chinese Poetry Network

Among the female poets who have emerged in China in recent 20 years, Du Ya is the one I admire most, not only because of the quality of her works, but also because of my temperament. Maybe I talk a lot and am active on some occasions, but I am more aware of my silence and melancholy. I have written many melancholy poems. Although they are not mature enough now, I have always been fascinated by that kind of loss and sadness. Life has made it impossible for us to find the emotion of "looking at flowers and crying", but nostalgia and remembrance of lost things are the common characteristics of all. At this level, Du Ya proved this to the world with her talent.

Du Ya's poems, like her personality, are peaceful and quiet, keeping a distance from you but having a harmonious relationship. Many poets put language first. When reading their own works, they always feel that words jump out of the pages and hit your retina. However, Du Ya's poems focus on the creation of atmosphere, and its strength is not the impact on the eyes, but the tolerance and infection of the reader's body and mind. If those poems that win by the particularity of images are a stabbing knife, then Du Ya's poems are a huge bag, and once you get in, you can't get out. Du Ya himself said so: "The highest realm of poetry may have nothing to do with splendor. True poetry should be silent, not silent. " (Du Ya: "Childhood? Dream? Poetry ",see the collection of poems" The Wind Uses Its Bright Wings ",published by Feng Chun Literature and Art Publishing House 1998).

By combing the vocabulary of Du Ya's poems, we can find that spring, autumn, wind, peach blossoms, trees, forests, tears, moonlight, love, flowers, villages and water occupy most of her poems. These images point to the same motif: attachment to nature and the pain caused by the passage of time-

Who brought this love?

One morning, Platanus acerifolia fluttered like fallen flowers.

The city looks like a dilapidated garden.

Every time I go out, I see that forest.

I always approach it as if it were my destiny.

It seems that it makes me decline rapidly.

As if I was about to shout out a forgotten place name:

For example: Spring, Chestnut Tree and Hill.

Or "wind" and "passing away", but these are not.

Bought a car full of yellow flowers in the street.

Like the autumn wind, I heard it again:

Every time I turn around, I see the forest.

I always look at it and can't make a sound, as if it were my love.

My aging morning

I can't see the mountains in the distance.

I chased a car full of yellow flowers and watched love go away.

A friend told me emotionally that after reading this song Autumn, he couldn't restrain his sentimental tears. I told him that although I am not used to being too emotional when reading, I have read Du Ya's Autumn countless times. Even the night before my wife gave birth to a child during the Spring Festival in 2003, I was introducing Du Ya and her autumn.

The language of poetry is extremely beautiful, and each paragraph is a vivid and beautiful picture; But it is not only beautiful, but also contains many sadness and memories between the lines. A person recalls the past in the city. Originally, "Platanus acerifolia flying like a fallen flower" was aesthetic, but in the sad eyes of "I", "this city looks like a dilapidated garden".

In autumn, someone was selling chrysanthemums, and the newly picked chrysanthemums were bought by people in the street. My heart is also in a trance, and I unconsciously returned to the most beautiful part of my memory. What I miss is a forest. Something unforgettable must have happened in this forest. It was spring, the chestnut trees were blooming, the breeze was light, the sun was shining, and everything was so intoxicating. The past is the past. For the past, "I" can only be speechless:-"Every time I turn around, I see that forest/I always look at it, and I always can't shout it out, as if it were my love". The seemingly casual "burden" in Like My Love is actually the most important part of the poem. It inadvertently sets the tone for poetry and tells people the reason why I am sad-both for love and for the passage of time.

The last paragraph is the saddest. A person who has lost love (or a good time) is chasing the chrysanthemum symbolizing youth, but there is nothing he can do, "watching love go away." Writing here, I suddenly understood that friend's tears. This is undoubtedly an excellent poem, and its language, image, situation and connotation are all in place. Autumn can also be said to be a narrative poem, with time, place, people, events and results. When I watch it, I always see the pictures in front of me, connected together like a beautiful MTV. We often hear voices praising ancient poetry and belittling new poetry on the grounds that the language of new poetry is rough and artistic conception is not emphasized. I really want to invite people who hold these ideas to read the works of Du Ya and Light Light Blue. I firmly believe that a new poem like Autumn is not inferior to many ancient poems that people like, and it is the glory of new poetry.

We can guess the poet's temperament from the narrative way of poetry. Poets with fresh and fancy words tend to be more ostentatious, while poets who pay attention to the integrity of their works are relatively low-key, forbearing and extremely serious about poetry. Du Ya undoubtedly belongs to the latter. At the seminar on the works of the Youth Poetry Society, I gave the highest possible evaluation to Du Ya's poems and people: Du Ya is an excellent contralto, and her poems are simple and clean, with a quiet beauty, which is consistent with her temperament. Only such people can write the best poems. We have read many excellent works flowing from Du Ya's heart, which will become a part of our life and let us feel the hand of fate behind the natural scenery all the time. Hawking said that everything is doomed, but you never know what is doomed. Du Ya's poems try to find out the whereabouts of his fingers, which are doomed to have no ending. Therefore, although Du Ya's poems see one thing embracing life after another, nothing will never die-

Behind the mountain, on a slope.

Sophora japonica has fallen for three days.

When I was in the late spring breeze

Run to the locust tree and look up.

Sophora japonica, they were before I arrived.

Everything passed quietly.

-"I remember Sophora japonica falling"

This melancholy, mournful whisper shines with inner love and compassion, which endows poetry with a strong tragic color, thus highlighting the image of the poet as a thinker. But if you indulge in sighing, will it lead to another result? When I picked up the bright wings of the wind, I admired the poet's omnipresent talent, but at the same time I had to secretly sigh the singleness of style and connotation. In fact, this is the same problem that all poets will encounter: when they rely on many works with similar styles to establish their position and strengthen this position through similar creations again and again, they eventually become a unique "this one", and another shadow slowly approaches, that is "repetition". A poet who can constantly fine-tune his writing style deserves admiration. At least, he has the courage to start over and find another possibility. This reminds me of a night in Huangshan Youth Poetry Club, when a large group of people went to Tangkou Town near the hotel to surf the Internet. On the way, Dua mysteriously said that she would give me a gift. She said the gift was in front of my eyes and I had to guess. I can't guess. She pointed to the moon in the sky. The next morning, I met Du Ya and symbolically "returned" her a round of Huangshan Red Sun. Unexpectedly, she was moved and said, Thank you, Liu Chun. I just lack a sun. Now that I think about it, how meaningful this episode is: my poems are too rational and need to be more emotional (the moon); Du Ya's poems are too gloomy, and the rigidity like sunshine is just a supplement. Perhaps, the clever Dua thought of this at the moment I wanted to give her the sun. In fact, Du Ya's new work is full of sunshine compared with the poetry collection The Wind with its Bright Wings. The short poem Sunny Winter written by 200 1 clearly shows this point: "Some dead branches are slightly broken in the wind/slightly fall to the distant ground/However, in this sunny winter, nothing is obtained and nothing is lost". Although the vague melancholy is still there and the deep tone is still there, it adds something more solid and crucial: facing the humiliating fate. Such subtle changes are especially gratifying for an already excellent poet.

In the articles I read to evaluate Du Ya's poems, the famous scholar Lin Xianzhi's expression is quite interesting. In the article "New Poetry: Noisy and Empty Nineties" published in a certain issue of West Lake Magazine in 2006, Lin Xianzhi summed up Du Ya's poetic style: "Du Ya's poems are unique and lyrical. She is sensitive to the change of time series, and things are perishable, which is the keynote of elegy. ..... We can find that many images and words here (referring to Du Ya's poem "To Hometown") appear repeatedly in Du Ya's poems. It can be said that all her works are variations of this poem. She often writes the same thing repeatedly and intensively, like an empty wind, like poplars, chestnuts and pears. It can be seen that she is only satisfied with her expression. Formally, she does not deliberately pursue change, which is quite dull. However, this is the performance of a poet who is obsessed with his own emotional texture. " Lin Xianzhi also thinks, "We can't say how rich Du Ya's poems are, but we should admit that the social content is still thin. Most of her poems absorb natural images and rarely involve personnel, especially the poor in the village, so she is not the kind of singer who consciously works for the poor. The pain of sadness, terror and death in the poem, although it has the traditional meaning of 19 ancient poems, belongs to her and belongs to the poor world she is familiar with. " There are praises and bullets in the above two paragraphs, but after all, they return to the word "praise". When praising, even those "quite plain" poems and repeated poems are regarded as "a poet's obsession with his own emotional texture", which shows that the evaluation is high. The "play" part is not very convincing. Is there a necessary causal relationship between a form that is repeatedly used and "looks quite plain" and "a poet is obsessed with his own emotional texture"? Does a good poem have to have "social content"? When writing a poem related to the countryside, must it involve the "poor" and become a "poor singer"? I have reservations about this. People's emotions are complex and changeable, and there are many kinds of poems. Some good poems are self-sufficient, so we can't ask all poems with different styles and contents to "care about people's sufferings". In my opinion, as a poet, Li Shangyin is no less than Du Fu. The quality of poetry lies not in the content, but in whether the poet has reached a surprising height in a certain style. Du Ya has reached a certain height in style, so she is excellent. It is hard to imagine what the texture of her poems would look like if she wrote "poor people" directly. -Can you force Qin Guan to write Bai Juyi's style?

Judging from his writing style, Lin Xianzhi is also hesitant about his argument. His evaluation of Du Ya has formed an undulating line. After regretting that she didn't act as a "poor singer", he immediately gave a higher evaluation: "Du Ya is the kind of poet who mourns, and the bell of fate echoes in each of her works. Her warmest works are aroused from memory, in order to set off the chill in front of her eyes. These tragic works set in the countryside continue the impressionable tradition of ancient poets and coincide with the essence of western philosophy of life. In fact, it is a portrayal of the decline of rural areas in China under the shadow of urban rise. " After quoting Du Ya's Elegy, Lin Xianzhi thinks that the tragedy of this poem has philosophical depth, which is lacking in China's poems. What is puzzling, however, is that after praising Du Ya and affirming the writings of some poets, Lin Xianzhi added: "We only have noisy poems, which are essentially noisy voices, but we can't see the complete image of the poets. Poetry is greater than poets. " Looking around blankly: "Where have all the poets gone?" Finally, the conclusion that China's poetry in 1990s is an empty mountain is drawn. What's wrong with "poetry is greater than poets"? Poetry exists and poets naturally exist. Isn't the image of a poet derived from poetry? What does it mean that "poets are greater than poems"? We have seen too many celebrities without poems. They jump up and down in the literary world like fleas, or they are keen on political demands and turn themselves into politicians, thinkers and reformers, not poets. Is this a good thing or a bad thing for poetry? In my opinion, these people can do anything, and it is better not to be poets.

In the same article, Lin Xianzhi also criticized the poet Yang Jian's works: "Yang Jian's writing is light and simple, intimate and natural, and rural figures can be included in poems, but they are limited to landscape paintings or amorous feelings paintings, and the excavation is not deep. Many poems are very simple, like a pile of unfinished sketches." It is true that Lin Xianzhi's judgment of Emperor Wen of Sui's poetic style is very accurate, but is Emperor Wen of Sui's poetry just a pile of unfinished sketches and lack of depth, as he criticized? Very debatable. I still say: This is a pluralistic era, and we can't ask all works to put "social function" first. Poetry is poetry, with its own laws and writing ethics. In the eyes of many poets and critics, Yang Jian's poems are not as shallow and simple as Lin Xianzhi imagined. For example, the poet Bai Hua thinks that Emperor Wen of Sui's brushwork in writing poems is a typical Chinese painting technique, which is both freehand brushwork and meticulous brushwork, with special emphasis on simple, serious and eye-catching sketch realism; In this way, Emperor Wen of Sui wrote many poems about the lives of ordinary people in China, and also wrote many poems about the sufferings of animals. Almost all the themes in his poems point to the sufferings of the land and people in China. Even though he wrote some poems about the beautiful countryside in China, there was a subtle sadness in them. Emperor Wen of Sui deepened the description of suffering in China traditional literature. (See New Poetry Review, No.2, 2005, published by Peking University Publishing House) The poet Pompeii said: "Emperor Wen of Sui is the only person in China who writes about people's sufferings." (ditto) The views of Bai Hua and Pompeii are diametrically opposed to those of Lin Xianzhi. Whose side should they be on? Different readers will make choices according to their own understanding of poetry.

Far away, let's go back to the seminar mentioned above. While discussing my poem, Du Ya began to reciprocate. She made some shameful comments on my work, such as the maturity and depth of the language. Finally, she "reminded" me to go on firmly and not to care too much about other people's opinions. Of course I know what she means. Now, when I try to find some flaws in her poems without causing trouble, will she remind herself like this? But it doesn't matter anymore. The important thing is that we are all writing and encouraging each other.

In order to show my understanding of Du Ya, before the end of this article, I want to disclose some "privacy". In the year we met, Du Ya was a magazine editor by profession. It's not an ordinary magazine, but a magazine for the elderly (later Du Ya left Henan for Beijing and became a drifter in the north). She likes this job very much, and she can learn a lot from her contact with the old people. Perhaps because of this, Du Ya, who is as kind as an old man, is as cautious as an old man. He is not only unwilling to give others trouble, but also afraid that others will give him trouble. Because the train from Hefei to Zhengzhou didn't leave until 10 at night, and there were no seats, on the morning of returning to Hefei from Huangshan, my friend told her to contact Hefei's poetry friends and see if she could help get a seat ticket. She waved her hand again and again: no, no, it's too much trouble for others. I also asked her to take a bus with me to Nanjing, where there are many cars and seat tickets are easy to buy. She repeatedly said: no, no, so I can't say it clearly. I am stupefied: What is unclear? Isn't it just going to Nanjing by car? She said, it's okay for me to transfer to Nanjing alone, but it's not clear for us to go together. The poets around laughed for a few minutes when they heard this.

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