The great Russian romantic poet—
You spent a week writing romantic and passionate poems with me,
This unforgettable and full week.
Those shocking words will last forever,
Like the silent air.
I spent it with you.
At Huangcun Middle School,
In Petersburg,
In the south,
In mikhailov village,
Return from exile and the past years.
You know,
The "small town" you described,
This is what I expected:
On the humble bookshelf—
The singer is very expressive,
The essayist is humorous,
Poets compete to recite their masterpieces,
Philosophers argue fiercely.
Without that beautiful figure,
As beautiful as the first snow.
And a kind grandmother who can tell stories.
Lazy and powerless soul,
There is joy in melancholy.
"Pushkin was buried here; He and the young muse,
Spend a happy life lazily with Cupid,
He didn't do anything good, but in good conscience,
Thankfully, he is a good man. "
This is my epitaph, which you wrote when you were sixteen.
Admire and envy the enthusiasm and sincerity of your love;
History has proved that you are not only a good person,
He is also a good man who affects the world.
You inspired me to write an epitaph.
By the way, it's a magnificent ode to freedom.
You were exiled to the south of the motherland.
But it's also an ode to freedom,
It transcends time and space,
It stirs people who struggle for freedom from generation to generation;
Not only that, but it also taught the rulers a profound lesson:
"Whether it's punishment or praise,
Is it a bloody prison or an altar,
Can't be your real barrier;
In the shadow of reliable laws,
First of all, keep a low profile,
Only people's freedom and peace.
Is the ruler's eternal guardian. "
The sea is vast and boundless.
In your pen-
Sometimes gentle and quiet, lingering sound;
Sometimes it rains and winds, and the earth shakes;
It is sometimes affectionate, summoning expectations;
Sometimes it is depression and resentment, such as crying.
Your question in The Sea:
"the sea, the world is empty ...
Where are you taking me now?
The fate of the world is the same everywhere:
Where there is happiness, there are people who have happiness.
Either an education or a tyrant. "
It still bothers me.
Oh, you write about love without hesitation.
Whether it's love at first sight,
The pain of sauvignon blanc,
The torment of jealousy,
Awkward shame,
Or talk in despair,
You turned them into beautiful poems,
Always so touching and delicate.
Your love is sincere and your love is brave.
Read the beginning of To Kern:
"I remember that wonderful moment:
You showed up right in front of my eyes,
Like a flash in the pan,
Like the embodiment of pure beauty. "
How happy it is to be enslaved by love!
You encouraged Wolff to write poetry—
If life deceives you;
"Everything is fleeting and becomes a thing of the past;
And everything in the past will be a beautiful memory. "
It also inspired me—
If life deceives me,
What should I do?
Poets are lonely,
No matter how you shout,
There is no reply.
I thought that not only the poet was lonely,
Everyone in the world is lonely,
It's just that many people don't feel it.
"There is no happiness in the world, but there is peace and freedom."
You long for this enviable freedom-
Live a simple life, live a happy life and create.
It is not easy!
No, your wife objected, but the czar refused.
In China,
In this "under the hedge of picking chrysanthemums",
See Nanshan leisurely "life,
It's just a dream that several generations can't realize!
Your masterpiece is more than that,
This is just the tip of the iceberg.
However, farewell is inevitable,
No matter how sad you are.
For a genius,
God is always stingy with time,
Mean is only 38 years.
however
Thirty-eight years is enough to make you famous in the world!
20 17/2/ 12