Xu Zhimo (1897 ~ 193 1) is a modern poet and essayist. Famous Zhang Yi, pen names Nanhu, Yun Zhonghe, etc. Haining, Zhejiang. 19 15 graduated from Hangzhou No.1 Middle School and studied in Shanghai Hujiang University, Tianjin Beiyang University and Peking University successively. 19 18 went to the United States to study banking. 192 1 went to study in the uk and became a special student at Cambridge university in London, studying political economy. During my two years in Cambridge, I was deeply influenced by western education and romantic and aesthetic poets in Europe and America. 192 1 Start writing new poems. 1922 After returning to China, he published a lot of poems in newspapers and periodicals. 1923 participated in the establishment of the new moon meeting. Join the literature research society. 1924 founded Modern Review with Hu Shi and Chen Xiying, and was hired as Professor Peking University. Translated by Tagore, a great Indian poet, when he visited China. 1925 has been to Europe, the Soviet Union, Germany, Italy, France and other countries. From 65438 to 0926, he was the editor-in-chief of the supplement of Morning News Poetry Magazine, and started the metrical movement of new poetry with Wen Yiduo and Zhu Xiang, which influenced the development of new poetry art. In the same year, he moved to Shanghai and served as a professor at Guanghua University, Daxia University and Nanjing Central University. 1927 participated in the establishment of Crescent Bookstore. The following year, he served as editor-in-chief after the publication of New Moon. And traveled abroad to Britain, the United States, Japan and India. 65438-0930 Member of China Cultural Fund Committee, elected as a member of British Poetry Society. In the winter of the same year, he taught in Peking University and Peking Women's University. 193 1 At the beginning of the year, he founded Poetry Quarterly with Chen and Fang, and was elected as the director of China Branch of Pen Club. In the same year165438+1October, 19, I flew from Nanjing to Peiping. Because the fog hit a mountain near Jinan, the plane crashed and died. He is the author of poetry anthology Zhi Mo Poetry Anthology, Kethleen Night, Tiger, Wandering, prose anthology Leaves, Parisian Scales, Autopsy, Autumn, novel prose anthology Roulette, drama Bian Kungang (co-edited with Lu Xiaoman) and diary Ai Xiao Mei Za. His works have been edited and published as Collected Works of Xu Zhimo. Xu Shi's poems are fresh, harmonious in rhythm, novel in metaphor, rich in imagination, beautiful in artistic conception, elegant in thought and full of changes. He pursues neatness and splendor in artistic form and has a distinct artistic personality. He is a representative poet of the Crescent School. His prose is unique and has achieved no less achievements than poetry. Among them, Self-Anatomy, Want to Fly, Cambridge as I Know It and Chatting in Yushan Residence are all masterpieces handed down from generation to generation.
Age: Modern and Contemporary
Author: Xu Zhimo
Works: Farewell to Cambridge
Content:
I left quietly,
When I came softly;
I waved gently,
Say goodbye to the western clouds.
Golden willow by the river,
Is the bride in the sunset;
Shadows in the waves,
Ripple in my heart.
Green grass on the soft mud,
Oily, swaying at the bottom of the water;
In the gentle waves of He Kang River,
I would like to be an aquatic plant.
A pool in the shade of a tree,
Not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky;
Crushed between floating algae,
Precipitate a rainbow-like dream.
Looking for dreams? Lift a long pole,
Back to greener grass;
Full of stars,
Play songs in a starry place.
But I can't play songs,
Quiet is a farewell flute;
Summer insects are also silent for me,
Silence is Cambridge tonight!
I left quietly,
Just as I came quietly;
I waved my sleeve,
Don't take away a cloud.
Age: Modern and Contemporary
Author: Xu Zhimo
Works: green all night.
Content:
You really left, tomorrow? Then I, then I, ...
You don't have to worry, sooner or later;
If you want to remember me, remember me,
Otherwise, forget the world before it's too late.
With me, I don't have to think about time and space.
Think of it as a dream, a fantasy;
Think of it as the residual red we saw the day before yesterday.
Timid and pitying in front of the wind, a fluttering,
Two petals, fall to the ground, step on them and turn into mud. ...
Alas, people step on it and turn it into mud-it's clean when it turns into mud.
This half-dead man is suffering,
Looking at an attic, heavy and tearful-
Oh, my God, why did you come? Why did you come? ...
I can't forget you, the day you came,
As if the dark future is bright,
You are my husband, my lover, my benefactor,
You taught me what life is and what love is.
You woke me up in a coma and cleared me.
How do I know the sky is high and the grass is green without you?
Touch my heart, how fast it beats;
Touch my face again, how burnt it is, thank you for the night.
Invisible; Love, I can't breathe,
Stop kissing me; I can't stand this kind of intense work,
My soul is like a burning brick these days.
Wrought iron, under the hammer of love, hits, hits and sparks.
Scattered ... I'm dizzy, hold me tight,
Love, let me stay in this quiet garden,
How beautiful it is to die on your chest with your eyes closed!
The wind rustled in the white tree overhead,
This is my funeral song, this breeze,
Blowing from the olive grove, with pomegranate flowers,
Take my soul away, firefly,
Affectionate and dedicated fireflies, with their light,
I stopped when I got to the bridge with the third ring hole.
Look, you're holding my half-hot body,
Call me, kiss me, shake me, suck me, ...
I will smile and follow the breeze,
Let him lead me, heaven, hell, anywhere,
Anyway, lose this disgusting life and experience this death.
In love, the death of this love center is not as good as.
500 reincarnations? ..... selfish, I know,
But I don't care ... will you die with me?
Why, it's not a complete "love to death" without a pair,
If you want to fly, you must fight with two pairs of wings.
It's different to take care of when you go to heaven,
I can't live without you and you can't live without me;
If it's hell, you won't be at ease if I go alone.
You said that hell might be more civilized than this world.
Although I don't believe that a delicate flower like me,
There is no guarantee that there will be no more storms.
You can't hear me clearly when I call you.
That's not asking for liberation, but throwing it into the mud,
On the contrary, cold-eyed ghosts colluded with hard-hearted people.
Laugh at my fate and your cowardice and carelessness?
That's right. What should I do?
It's hard to live, it's too hard, and you can't get rid of it when you die.
I don't want you to sacrifice your future for me.
Alas! You said you'd better live and wait for that day!
Is there that day? -You are my confidence;
But you must leave at dawn. Do you really have the heart?
Leave without me? I can't keep you, it is fate;
But this flower, without sun and dew soaking,
If you don't die, you will inevitably fall out. What a pity!
You can't forget me, dear, except in your heart,
I have no life; Yes, I listen to you, I wait,
I have to wait patiently when Cycas bloom;
Love, you will always be a star above my head;
If I die unfortunately, I will become a firefly.
In this garden, next to the grass roots, flying in the dark,
Dusk flies to midnight, midnight flies to dawn,
I just hope there are no clouds in the sky, and I can see the sky.
The unchanging big star in the sky is you,
I hope you can shine more light for me at night,
Through the day, through the heart of love ...
1June 925 1 1 day, in Emerald Hill.
Age: Modern and Contemporary
Author: Xu Zhimo
Works: Midnight Deep Lane Pipa
Content:
It woke me up from sleep again, the sound of pipa in the middle of the night!
Whose sorrow is this,
Whose finger is this,
Like a bitter wind and rain, like a fallen flower,
Late at night,
When I fell asleep here,
Playing the strings, playing the horn of the court merchant,
In the middle of the night, on the deserted street,
There is a broken moon hanging on the willow tip.
Ah, half a moon, like a broken hope for him, he
Wearing a flowered hat,
Wearing chains,
Jumping and laughing wildly on the road of time,
It's over, he said. Blow up your lamp,
She waited on the other side of the grave,
Waiting for your kiss, waiting for your kiss, waiting for your kiss!