Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 219 Poetry
Ye Yuze asked curiously, "Don't you understand?"

Cha Hongying shook her head, then said:

"You don't need to understand good poetry! It would be nice if you could empathize with the author emotionally!"

Ye Yuze shook his head, this can be regarded as a standard idiot fan, right?
Everyone has heard their conversation.Obviously, everyone was slightly dissatisfied with the foreigner and the child.

Munk looked at Cha Hongying with some reproach. "Yingzi, don't bring irrelevant people here from now on."

At this moment, Cha Hongying's face flushed a little.She took out a piece of paper and handed it to Munk.

"It's not that he doesn't understand poetry, he also has good poems there!"

Munk took it with some disdain, but was stunned after reading a few lines, and hurriedly cast a glance at Ye Yuze, then looked down eagerly.

Ye Yuze didn't dislike these people, especially this one named Munk.

Obviously, this is a group of young people with ideals and pursuits, but he really didn't understand the poem just now.That's why David asked Cha Hongying.

Because Cha Hongying was so intoxicated at that moment.

At this time, the young man named Bei Dao said something.

"Mang Ke, read it out and tell everyone to listen to this good poem!"

Munk froze for a moment, and then brewed his feelings.Read it out slowly.

Munk's voice is nice, a standard baritone.

1
Suddenly thought of what happened behind me

Write a few words to son
.
Actually, cremation is the cleanest
Only we don't have it here.
don't hold a memorial service

No one here understands my life.

......

As Munk's voice sounded slowly, the hostility in the young people's eyes gradually faded.

Tombstone, engraved with an epitaph
What are you engraving, let me think about it

Just engrave a painful word
In this life, I have endured without saying it
.
When chiseling

Ask the master stonemason to be lighter.

"Nice poem!"

Before Munk finished reading, Bei Dao couldn't help shouting out!
At this time, Munk was already in tears!
After reading the poem, everyone's eye sockets are wet. People who like poetry, how can they be cold-blooded?
Bei Dao couldn't wait to take the paper, and eagerly read it silently.

People in that era were simple, especially those young people who were obsessed with poetry.Although there is a saying that there is nothing first in literature, they really like good works!
Compared with Munk's sharpness, Bei Dao is much more simple and honest.Perhaps it was his character that made him go further on this road.

"Little brother, who wrote this poem?"

Bei Dao grabbed Ye Yuze's hand and asked impatiently.

Ye Yuze originally wanted to talk about the old man with white beard.But looking at this pair of sincere eyes, he couldn't speak.

After pondering for a while, he raised his head to look up at the sky, and let out a long sigh:
"This person is not in this era! He is an old soldier of our Corps!"

Bei Dao also let out a long sigh! "Heaven is jealous of talents!"

Ye Yuze had black lines all over his head, but he couldn't explain anything.

"That's called poetry! That's called words that shake the soul. Like a sharp knife, the pierced heart is bleeding!"

"With such seniors, our Baiyangdian Poetry Tribe, what qualifications do we have not to work hard?"

Ye Yuze's eyes froze, what the hell is this Baiyangdian poetry tribe?

My hometown is Baiyangdian?Could it be that Munk is still a fellow?

Seeing Ye Yuze's puzzled eyes, Bei Dao explained.It turns out that Mangke and his fellows worked in the countryside of Baiyangdian for several years, and it was from there that they started writing poems!

Only then did Ye Yuze understand the origin of this title.

Cha Hongying added with some admiration: "They live a very pure life. Bei Dao is a construction worker, and Munk was originally a factory worker who quit his job to write poetry.

His father had a falling out with him over this matter and kicked him out of the house, so this guy lived by doing odd jobs, and often had nothing to eat! "

Ye Yuze was a little awed, but David didn't quite understand.

"Ye, why did you get kicked out of the house if you like poetry?"

This Ye Yuze didn't know how to answer.

It was Munk himself who said:

"Poetry can't be exchanged for money in many cases, even if it can be exchanged, it can't maintain life!"

"Then why did you quit your job? Isn't it bad to write poetry in your spare time?"

David's thinking still couldn't keep up with Munk's thinking.

Munk was stopped by this question and thought for a long time before saying it.

"Doing things I don't like will wear out the passion in my heart! Poetry needs passion! I don't want the roar of the machine to crush my dreams!"

David nodded, and the little foreigner seemed shocked by the answer.

They are all young people, who doesn't have their own ideals?How should I live in the future?

At this time a young man asked: "David, do you have any poetry in the United States?"

At that time, I was relatively closed, and I knew very little about foreign things.Only some news could be heard on the radio.

Since Nixon's visit to China, Sino-Milan relations have been developing, otherwise David would not have come to China.

"There are also many poets in the United States, among which Robert Burley is the most famous. I still remember one of his poems."

Remaining month
The moon was three weeks old, and its light reached my father's farm,

It was half dark, hanging in the western sky that encroached upon it.

The earth holds stones, listen to them singing in the early morning.

I turned and entered the house and saw my shadow reaching for the latch.

Munk was shocked again, this is also a hazy poem.But this poem can indeed be read.

And the meaning in the text is very deep, as deep as a big burden on your shoulders.

There was another silence, and David continued:

"Although his poem is thought-provoking, I still like another poem written by an ordinary woman to her husband. Although her husband will never see it."

Remember the day I borrowed your new car,

dented it,

I think you're going to kill me.

But you don't!

Remember that time I dragged you to the beach,

And it did rain as you said.

I think you'd say "I told you so",
But you don't.

Remember that time I made you jealous by flirting with so many guys,
And you did.

i think you'll leave

But you don't.

Remember that time I spit strawberry pie all over the carpet,

I think you'll beat me up,

But you don't!

Remember that time I forgot to tell you the prom was official,
You showed up in jeans.

I think you'll abandon me,
But you don't.

yes!There are so many things you are not doing.

Just tolerate me, love me, protect me!

There are so many things I want to do for you,
When you return from the battlefield,
But you don't!

There was a long silence, only the sound of people's heavy breathing remained!
Perhaps this poem may not be called poetry in the eyes of academics, but is it really not poetry?
Experts can cite classics to evaluate, but they can't.Because they cry.

Ask for collections, recommendations, monthly passes and investments.

　When it comes to poetry, I'm just a lover.So I am not qualified to comment on anything.

　　I'm just stating my point of view from an ordinary person's point of view.

　　A good poem is by no means a gorgeous pile of words, but a text that can touch people's hearts.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)