Dunzhe Ling
Usually, the author doesn't want to analyze his own poems, and neither do I. To put it mildly, I have a mystery myself, and I hope others can solve it. It's not fun to untie yourself seriously. Speaking of it, analyzing your own works is like dissecting yourself. Tear apart your life, your skin, your thoughts and show others how you came up with this word. So there is a feeling of naked chill.
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I believe everyone knows the story of Zhong Ziqi and Yu Boya. After Zhong Ziqi died, Boya thought, "Who can tell me my heart after death? Do you understand my piano sound? What's the point of playing the piano? " After thinking about it, he fondled Qin lovingly and secretly said, "You have followed me for so many years, and I really can't bear to lose you at once. However, chef hippo has passed away, and no one can understand me like chef hippo. It may not be useful to keep you. It is better to accompany a confidant! " After gnashing my teeth, with a sigh, I smashed my beloved piano and decided not to play it for life. This is the story of mountains and rivers, and bosom friends are hard to find.
Modern poetry, with the characteristics of modern poetic language, speaks in vernacular. I write poems, but that doesn't mean I can explain poems written by anyone. But on the whole, I can analyze many poems. Some people write so vaguely that you can only feel it. Because those images are obvious, but behind them are the memories or innovations in the author's mind, which often vary from place to place and from time to time. So such poems are difficult to analyze.
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Why should I write this article? Because I wrote a poem, a reader left a message like this: "vulgar!" " "Then I replied," Whoever thinks it's tears can move the sky. "Not bad, if this is vulgar, there will be no elegance in the world." Another friend replied: "there is no hidden meaning, no hidden meaning, there is no substitute for things, and people are substitutes." It is such a straightforward sentence that people who are used to reading ancient poems really can't appreciate it. Maybe this is the generation gap between us and young people! "
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Seeing this, I think we should write an analysis. Just write this poem that the master replied. Poetry was inspired by chatting with a girl. Handwritten. I like it myself. This poem is as follows:
Our secret
Dunzhe Ling
Even the smallest woman in the world
Have a mother's mind.
I really don't care about the size of your breasts.
But it's not our secret.
We have a secret.
You never know.
But I will never tell you.
When the wind blows,
You can feel it.
But time never keeps secrets for others.
So is the wind—
When I passed your eaves,
The snow on the roof melted into rain.
Who thought it was tears?
Who will touch the sky!
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Dunzhe Ling's analysis: First of all, everyone knows the date when I posted this article, which is 20 18 May 13. This is Mother's Day. I joked with this girl and said, "Happy Mother's Day to you." She said, "I'm not married yet!" " "But obviously, we will all agree that any girl has a maternal shadow. From the perspective of biology, sociology and evolution, it should be so.
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So I wrote at the beginning:
Even the smallest woman in the world
Have a mother's mind.
I really don't care about the size of your breasts.
Obviously, "breast" is a concrete, feminine, maternal, nurturing, caring and sexy. No matter how big or small, it works. So I would say, "I really don't care about the size of your breasts."
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I was chatting with a girl, and I thought of love. Thought of the mystery of love, love that can't be expressed in words. As they say, "Asking about the world is a commitment." Therefore, it can be transformed into poetic concrete secrets.
This leads to this sentence: But this is not our secret.
Then wrote:
We have a secret.
You never know.
But I will never tell you.
This is obvious. This is the story of two people. You can understand it as a secret love, or as a wishful, blind love. Because only one person feels it the most. This kind of profundity is beyond others' comprehension. He didn't tell his other half either. This is the "secret", everyone's secret about love, or pain.
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Then wrote:
When the wind blows,
You can feel it.
But time never keeps secrets for others.
So is the wind—
When I passed your eaves,
The snow on the roof melted into rain.
Who thought it was tears?
Who will touch the sky!
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When the wind blows, any of us can feel it. This is a sense of touch. "But time never keeps secrets for others, and so does the wind-"
Time certainly doesn't keep secrets for people. Time will make people old and things will change. So you will be sensitive to time and even afraid. Over time, you will recall and even understand a lot in your memories. That's what humans do. So I wrote later:
When I passed your eaves,
The snow on the roof melted into rain.
What a coincidence! The snow on your roof melted as soon as I passed by. Melt into rain! Later, someone wrote:
Who thought it was tears?
Who will touch the sky!
who is it? Me? Or you? No matter who you are, when you cry, you will feel that you have touched the sky, but if you have touched the sky, it seems that you have not touched it. This exaggeration is to sublimate the power of love and the power of missing. Obviously this is a sad love poem. But beautiful. So I like it very much.
This is a concrete analysis of this poem. I hope you like it. I also hope that you can use this analytical method to read other people's poems and feel what others have written. But don't think you can read any poem. Because even the poet himself, sometimes expressed, is also vague. Sometimes, he is just venting, or expressing a sad feeling or something. Trust me!