Original title: He Hua (editor) was the first to come into contact with Mu Xin’s works, and then started to read his poems. Last year, friends passed his song "Once Upon a Time Slow" to each other. Everyone liked it, and we commented on each sentence, each with their own feelings. This is the first time I have experienced a vernacular poem written in this way. Then, I found his poetry collections such as "My Passionate Desires", "Three Trees in Spain", "Balon", etc. After reading them, I was very impressed. The love poems in the collection, in particular, are both particularly touching and deeply poignant. How can the "injustice" of love poems not be hurtful when read? His "Five Islands Evening Post", "Sign Language", "Daigo", "The Body is a Bible", "Lyrics", "Qinxiangzi", "Eye Eyes", etc. are all good, but also hurtful. I took a picture of Mu Xin's "Children Named Clouds" with my mobile phone and sent it to three or two friends. The whole poem is as follows: I think of you in April and April / I always meet cherry blossoms on the road, under the cherry blossoms every day / Let’s talk a few words, and let you and I spend the night / After avoiding me for seven days and seven days, you / Come up from the mud as if nothing has happened The cherry blossoms will fade away when they are in full bloom / Your affairs always go by like this for forty-six years / If you remember, you don’t love yourself too handsome / Don’t care about others, it’s your unkindness / It makes me have endless aftertaste. One of them wrote back and said: The last two lines of this poem read: Too cheap. Of course it was a joke, but it made me think deeply. It is difficult for people who are immersed in love to be rational; once they lose their rationality, their self-esteem is hard to maintain; without self-esteem, they tend to be "degraded". But such despicable behavior is perfectly natural for a person who loves to lose his head. Mu Xin began to write poems in his later years, which are astonishing to the world. His choice of words is really not like that of an old man. For example, "You messed with me all night", "As if nothing had happened, the mud came up", "嬲" and "嬲" all give people a novel feeling. feel. Another famous poem of his, "JJ", ends with the sentence "How can I be like you?" This sentence is so special, but it has meaning. Mu Xin does not use a mobile phone or the Internet. After returning to China, he discovered that many of his readers were young people. In 2010 and 2011, with the help of others, he had two conversations with netizens of Douban's "Mu Xin Station". A netizen named Zijin said: "Sir, I just watched your "My Lust". I can't believe that you are already an old man. Take care." Mu Xin replied: "I am not an old man, I am just an old man. Poet." It can be seen that poets have no age. One of my three or five "bedside books" is "The Poems of Cavafy". Subconsciously, I read Mu Xin and Cavafy side by side. Cavafy's poems are simple in language but rich in connotation. His poems are highly sensual, but also have a full sense of history. He combines sensuality and history so seamlessly that it is hard to find anyone else. About eight or nine years ago, I first came into contact with Cavafy's poetry. In the following days, I didn't even want to touch other people's poetry collections (I rarely read poetry), let alone read them. Reading Mu Xin's collection of poems is considered a sign of enlightenment. A considerable part of Cavafy's poems describe handsome men from the lower classes. One by one, the flowers in the dust bloom suddenly and then wither. Each one is an elegy of time and youth. Mu Xin's love poems are also highly sensual. Like Cavafy, he is very sensitive to "time and youth" and is extremely greedy and indulgent of the body. He wrote in "That Man Said That": "Unexpectedly, your person suddenly arrived like lightning/ My whole body was covered with sweat, and you loved me with your sweat./ On an early spring night, the sharp wind blew at the corner of the house/ The sound of the city was buzzing. Riverside, that's outside the window/wiping your sweat, sweat dripping down again/you are so full and exhausted on my neck." In "Qinxiangzi", Mu Xin wrote even more unscrupulously: "The love of that year was a wild love in the strong wind / in the deserted hills and ruins / every love is a hasty wild love." Who is Mu Xin’s love poem written to? Is this person male or female? Just don’t worry about it.