homesickness
Author: Xi Murong
The song of my hometown is a flute in Qingyuan.
It always rings on a moonlit night.
The face of my hometown is a vague disappointment.
Like waves in the fog.
After leaving,
Homesickness is a tree without rings.
Never grow old.
Xi Murong summed up this homesickness with a short poem with seven lines and three sections: the first section is about the freshness of the local accent, and the flute "always rings on a moonlit night". Imagine how many nights there is no moonlight all year round, which vaguely means that travelers always miss home. The second section is about homesickness, and I miss my hometown more and more. With the passage of time, I shook down the outline of my hometown, leaving only a vague disappointment, such as parting in the fog, as thick as blood, but separated by a misty cloud. It is vivid and natural to describe the vague and melancholy impression of hometown with the wave of parting in the fog, and to describe the abstract subjective feeling with a tangible concrete. The third layer writes about the eternity of homesickness. It is a transition from the lingering local accent and homesickness on the upper two floors, and its form is very novel. The gradual shift of levels makes the theme from vague to vivid. The poet expressed deep ocean-like sadness, nostalgia and disappointment with the image metaphor of "never getting old" that a tree without rings lives in the hearts of wanderers forever.
About the author: Xi Murong (1943-), a famous poet, essayist and painter, is a Ming 'an Banner of Chahar League in Inner Mongolia. His published poems include Qilixiang, Youth Without Complaints, Nine Articles of Time, Marginal Light and Shadow, Lost Poems, I Fold My Love, etc. The new work Xi Murong and Her Inner Mongolia records Xi Murong's pursuit of nomadic culture from 1989 to 17, with beautiful words and photos taken by himself.