I have always thought that the appearance of "Dead Poets Society" opened a door to freedom for those children who do not understand poetry, although it only opened in the dark. I have always believed that poetry is a scalpel that cuts away those tumors in thoughts and tempers those hearts that have been silent for a long time. ——"Captain" Lu Zhiyu and his crew? "Oh! Captain, My Captain!" "Ah, Captain, my Captain!" Whitman called his captain in the "lilac garden", that It was a cry trying to wake up President Lincoln, so solemn and high-spirited, as if he was in the filthy mud but still clinging to unquiet reverie. ?It was not until many years later that this cry burst out again in "Dead Poets Society" that I gradually understood why Emerson was able to discern the value of "Leaves of Grass" to the history of world literature? ? Emerson wrote in a letter to Whitman, "I rubbed my eyes to see if the sunlight was an illusion; but the reality of this book was unmistakable. Its greatest advantage is that Strengthen and inspire people's confidence." As for "Dead Poets Society", a large group of poets live in "Whitman's" utopia. They stood in the dense forest and looked at the sea. They said: What cannot be said must be said; what can be said should not be kept silent. ?Poetry Society: "Death" and "Rebirth" ?"While I live, I will be the master of life, not its slave." - Walt Whitman?
"Poetry of Death" "She" is a secret story that people say is only about the bonfire-like commotion in the dark night, but it inadvertently ignites the open fire in the daytime. As time passed, the fire roaring in the Indian cave finally began to have its own color. ?In the film, the children imitated the young Teacher Keating and reorganized the "Dead Poets Society", which seemed like the continuation of a beautiful nightmare. It was a society with an uncertain future, bound to each other only by its belief in art. Every night they walked through the dark woods to the Indian caves to recite poetry, becoming a group of short-lived restless poets. In the dark mist, they are fiery shadows; with smoke rising from the trees, is that "Which Chapter of the Night" is being hurriedly recited? And how long can the poets' tryst with the mountains last? ?The unfree souls walking in the night, I see you start to stagger and dance. The forest was filled with the rusty smell of shackles and the sound of "clang, clink, clink, clink". How many forest birds did your shouts startle? Even Satan's sunshine was drowned in the miasma, turning into weak blue smoke and dispersing. ?"While I live,..." Listen, who is reciting Whitman's poem? "...I want to be the master of life..." Oh, the sonorous air waves entered my eardrums one after another, "...and not be its slave.
"Dear poets, what kind of steadfast creed is this? ?