In the spring of 1918, when he attended a banquet, he sat at the same table with Blumkin, who held the power of life and death. At the banquet, someone asked Blumkin for a toast. He looked very busy and said: "Wait a minute, I will fill out the arrest warrant first...Sirodov, who is Sirodov? Shoot him!" The tip of the pen moved, A living life comes to an end.
Such a cold and cruel scene made Mandelstam unable to hold back. He suddenly rushed over and tore the list into pieces. The poet fled to the Caucasus and began a long wandering and miserable life.
He once shouted innocently to the jailer: "Let me out quickly, I was not born to be in prison!" However, fate seems to be used to making fun of people. His whole life has been about "arrest" and "prison" "An indissoluble bond was formed.
In 1937, a year before leaving this world, he wrote the poem "Don't Compare: All Living People Are Invincible". Towards the end of his life, he would sometimes lie by a campfire and read Petrarch's sonnets.
Many years later, Ehrenburg wrote passionately: "This man who was afraid of drinking a glass of unboiled water had real courage. This courage accompanied him throughout his life, until he stood by the campfire. Sonnet! "
In 1938, at the age of 47, Mandelstam died tragically in a transfer camp in the Far East. His body, together with the other dead, was frozen hard, like chopped firewood, and was piled against the wall of the labor camp. Then it was transported out in batches by truck and buried in pits in the camp. It was not until January 30 of the following year that his widow Nadezhda received a package returned by the post office and did not know that her husband had passed away;
Andrei Bely, a representative writer of the "Silver Age", praised Mandelstam is "the poet among poets"; Brodsky, the 1987 Nobel Prize winner who has always been known for his arrogance, said bluntly at the award ceremony: "Mandelstam is more qualified to stand than me. On the podium, everything he did will last as long as the Russian language!"
Mandelstam's poetry and reputation suffered a fate of near death and drowning during his lifetime. But his poetry is like gold deep underground. Once discovered, it shines brightly and his reputation transcends national borders. Few doubt that he deserves to be ranked alongside such world-class masters as Eliot, Rilke, Valéry and Yeats.
Mandelstam has been dead for 83 years, but his poems are still alive, and countless people around the world are reciting those beautiful words. In 1974, a collection of his poems was published in Russia, which sold out instantly. Who can say that the poet has been dead for many years? Everyone alive is invincible!
I think of Lin Shengbin, the male protagonist who survived the arson case of the vicious nanny in Shanghai. His beloved wife and three children were killed in the fire, and his once happy home was destroyed in ashes, but he was the only one who survived. He survived and became an invincible warrior and an unyielding fighter: after the Jiuzhaigou earthquake, he donated money to the people in the disaster area; after the outbreak, he donated masks to medical staff, went to the welfare home to cut the hair of the elderly voluntarily, and went to the depths of the mountains to give care to children. Send clothes.
1,070 days after losing his wife and children, the "Tongzhen Lifelong" children's clothing series created by Lin Shengbin was officially launched. The name "Tong Zhen Shengsheng" was given by Lin Shengbin's wife during her lifetime. It was a combination of one word extracted from the names of the whole family. For every piece of clothing sold by his children's clothing brand, 10% of the selling price will be donated in the name of the customer to make charity for the "Smiling Children Charity Project"...
Look, there are some people in this world. As Mandelstam said: The living are invincible!
Lin Shengbin is exactly this invincible person. He is a benevolent, wise, and even stronger man! P.S. Don't compare: the living are invincible
Let me step aside, with tender fear
Turn towards the emptiness of the plain,
The circumference of the sky Makes me dizzy.
I ask the air, my servants
are also waiting for the best or some news;
I am ready - it will never begin , along the arc of the voyage.
I am ready to go to a place where I can have more sky,
But this bright desire can no longer
lift me from the still young Voronezh slopes
Release into the bright, all-human Tuscan vault.
1937.1.18, Voronezh