Xu Anhua's Documentary《Poetry》The Poems in it

Xu Anhua's documentary《poetry》the poem in it?Which songs are there specifically?If you want to know these contents, you might as well read the introduction of this article. I hope that through the content of the article, you can better understand the content of 《poetry》.

Xu Anhua's Documentary《Poetry》The Poems in it

The film - the poem - is a work that Xu Anhua has been close to for many years. It naturally brings a lot of thinking besides commercial considerations. This is also one of the important reasons why she insists on appearing in the film.Therefore, this poem - not only a documentary about the poets of this era, but also a portrayal of Xu Anhua's state of mind in recent years.

Lamentations No. 7 (Fragment)

Huang Canran

Standing on the dock at dawn, I am a lonely person in the night.

Standing in my hometown during the day, the shadow of my departure is longer than the shadow of my return.

Standing in the morning light, I understood the reason why the evening was swallowed up by the night.

I am always leaving here and always coming back from somewhere else.

In the ears of the sea, I connect the sighs of the mountain wind to the waves.

In the center of commerce I hide the mysterious flowers of my motherland in my ears.

On the bus, on the train, on the slow and steady ship,

I cast strange eyes on glass landscapes and poker faces,

and equally indifferent towns and cities.On the hills at dawn,

In the dawn airport, I am a lyric poet day and night.

“”“”—

Tailor shop

Huang Canran

When I go home in the early morning, I often pass by a tailor shop.

“I didn’t realize I was passing it until it was brightly lit,

And it's not always brightly lit every night.When I passed by,

I always see an old man with a thin figure and gray hair on his temples.

Ironing clothes alone.He was neat and tidy while ironing clothes,

While turning on the radio, in the same neat shop.

Every time I see this passing scene, I feel lost.

My pace didn't slow down though.that moment

I wish I were him, working quietly like this,

Like heaven, there are no distractions, allowing the night to extend indefinitely.

I kept having the thought of stopping to say hello to him;

But my soul says: - This is a miracle,

You can't break in because you're not

Nor can it be part of it.”

“”“”—

In a tea restaurant

Huang Canran

A bald middle-aged man,

Sitting in the booth diagonally opposite,

Across from him sat a young son and a young daughter.

He is so weak, almost abject,

This image alone is enough to cause his wife to divorce

“He is probably a divorced man,

His body is full of traces of bad luck,

He has no voice,

nor any hint,

But he takes care of the children's meals very accurately;

Both children ate well.

nor did they make any sound,

Nor does he pay attention to any hints.

From his expression, it can be seen that he devoted everything to his children.

But give them no obvious attention.

This is a man without hope,

This is what he has decided for the rest of his life.

I won't meet another woman,

Nor will he become another man,

There will be no remaining energy to please people or hate people.

However, in fulfilling this responsibility,

There is some hidden meaning in him,

Not because he felt it himself, but because he was diagonally opposite another middle-aged man

The man is observing and thinking like this,

And quietly moved...

”“”“—

Sunshine is great

Huang Canran

The sun is great because it illuminates everything,

Not knowing that not all things need to be illuminated or equally illuminated,

So white clouds are great, providing a layer of cover, and dark clouds, adding concentration,

So rain is great, making hot cool, dry wet, fire water,

Therefore, the wind is great, it can relieve the dullness, move the stillness, and clear up the congestion.

So workers are great,

Build houses for everyone, rich and poor, to protect them from wind, rain, and sun.

They live in stilts. When it's cold, they come out to receive the warmth of the sun. When it's hot, they move to the ones they built.

In the shadow of tall buildings.

”“”“—

Tribulation

Huang Canran

My city, I was in the mountains this morning,

Looking back at you as usual, you are shrouded in dust and mist as usual,

But now I saw your true image:

Your outline is blurred, blending into the gray clouds,

Only the sparse lights in the windows of tall buildings barely made out the heavy shadows of the buildings.

It makes you look so helpless, almost tragic;

I suddenly feel a deep affection for you,

A love, not pity, not understanding,

But a head-on collision: when the sun tears apart the clouds,

Penetrating the dust and fog, delivering strong light to you,

I suddenly felt that I have been with you,

And will continue to share weal and woe with you.

“”“”“”

Missed Chuntian Flower Kindergarten in Tai Kok Tsui

Liao Weitang

This is another Hong Kong.

Walking in the sunlight leaking from the tenement buildings,

Watch the song "Red Plum Blossoms" in the paper-making shop.

There are hearts in those transparent bodies,

Those roast geese have souls,

There was a flapping sound at the window.

The old children lead the younger ones,

Sleeping tiredly in the arcade is like a man riding in the rain,

Encountering a disaster on the way.

Where did those flowers go?

He holds a brick,

Strike the rainbow.

Do you still recognize me?

I am the principal of your hallucinations.

In the eyes of cats and in the paws of dogs,

While diving across the vast ocean,

In the arms of a white rice fish.

Flowers bloom every step of the way, acres and acres of spring fields,

Yijiang Haomeng is fine.

it is not another,

And this is Hong Kong.

“”“”—

Queen's Pier Ballad

Liao Weitang

Queen's Pier Ballad,

Sharing your miserable wind and rain,

Together you are covered with stars and moon.

“Zhou Yaohui《The Queen's Thief》

That night I saw a fisherman holding a white candle

Put it into the deep water in front of the dock to guide the ghosts.

Woo hoo, I am a gust of wind, lingering here and refusing to go away.

That night I saw a chess player filling in the words on the chessboard,

It seems that the Kowloon ink family tree is fragmentary but every word is written in heaven.

Woo hoo, I am a gust of wind, lingering here and refusing to go away.

That night I saw a dancer wearing a white dress

Dancing into flowing clouds, there is a golden monkey on the clouds with angry eyes and gnashing teeth.

Huxu, I am like a gust of rain, the patter here refuses to go.

That night I saw a man who had lost his wife and was singing with a drum,

The singing is as clear and clear as that of a young man named Wuji forty years ago.

Huxu, I am like a gust of rain, the patter here refuses to go.

”I will wear the stars and the moon with you... “I will burn letters at the dock tonight,

Demons rise on the thousand needlepoints of the city,

Together with you, I will boil the rain and burn the wind, and summon the flying frost in the furnace.

Hey, hey, I'm a person here biting my fingers and writing nothing.

”“”—

June 18, 1935, Qu Qiubai to Lu Xun

Liao Weitang

Sir: I am writing to share a dream with you.

A mountain path that you have also traveled,

You also pointed at the sunset with your finger,

In the dream, the chaotic mountains cannot be leveled.

I am also lonely even when I am flat. I have been engraved in my bones for several days.

Then, remembering the heart, the bones were carved into a tower,

The heart digs out the original ravine,

There was a leaky boat carrying wine floating on it.

This is the tower and ship you also wrote about,

Vaguely you also shared a dream with me,

I seem to remember riding a boat past the mountain Vagina,

There are countless beautiful people and beautiful things in the blue sky.

But now there is only brightness and whimpering,

Like an international song I often sing,

Carrying ice and fire, biting,

It also transformed into many auras of fire and ice.

It was Yu Xin who was looking at Luo Xing City from afar, and the beacon light was shining brightly across the river.

But the deceased was not Xiao Gang;

Lift the night curtain and hold the candle to see,

The wild road is filled with yellow dust.

The person who died later was not Yu Xin either.

We don't have to be side by side,

Look at the trees looking like this a hundred years from now!

Farewell, beautiful world!

I still remember planting this little tree a hundred years ago.

Will this country be okay?

This sword has fallen leaves and branches several times.

Sir, thank you for this dream

Thank you for the beautiful flowers and fruits, and the beautiful mountains and waters.

“”“””

a leaf

Celan (translated by Huang Canran)

A leaf, treeless,

Dedicated to Bertolt Brecht:

What kind of era is this?

When a conversation

Almost a crime,

Because it contains,

Said so much?

“”“”“

Conspiracy not to contaminate the world

drink from the river

as a conspirator

Live without conspiracy

this world

Its bitter

Conceivable

Its fun

Conceivable

as a conspirator

Conspiracy not to contaminate the world

It's fun to think about

Its bitter

Conceivable

dear

you are

that

Conceivable

”“”“—

To Future Generations (Excerpt)

Brecht (translated by Lu Yuan)

Truly, I live in miserable times!

To be honest is stupid.

a smooth forehead,

Means insensitive.

the one who laughs,

But I haven't received it yet,

Terrible news.

What kind of era was that?

A conversation about trees is almost a crime,

Because it contains silence about so much evil!

The man walking on the street,

Perhaps his friend in need,

Can we never find him again?

”“”“”—

Possibilities

Simposka

I prefer movies.

I prefer cats.

I am partial to the oak trees along the Valta River.

I prefer Dickens to Dostoevsky.

I prefer my love for crowds to my love for humanity.

I like to keep needle and thread handy in case I need it.

I prefer green.

I prefer the idea of ​​not blaming everything on reason.

I prefer exceptions.

I prefer to leave early.

I prefer to talk to doctors about other topics.

I prefer old-fashioned illustrations with detailed lines.

I prefer the absurdity of writing poetry to the absurdity of not writing poetry.

I prefer that when it comes to love, we can celebrate unspecified anniversaries every day.

I prefer moralists who make no promises to me.

I prefer cunning kindness to the overly believable kind.

I prefer Earth in casual clothes.

I prefer conquered nations to conquerors.

I prefer some reservations.

I prefer a hell of chaos to a hell of order.

I prefer Grimm's fairy tales to newspaper front pages.

I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.

I prefer dogs with undrunken tails.

I prefer light colored eyes because I have dark eyes.

I prefer desk drawers.

I prefer many things not mentioned here to many things I also did not say.

I prefer the free and unrestrained zero to the zeros that follow Arabic numerals.

I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.

I prefer banging on wood.

I prefer not to ask how much longer or when.

I prefer to keep this possibility in mind - the reason for existence is not external.

The editor has brought a series of detailed interpretations of the poems in Xu Anhua's documentary - Poems -, exploring the topic in depth from multiple angles. I believe it will be very inspiring and helpful to readers.If you have more questions and needs about film and television, please continue to pay attention to the line class. We will continue to bring you more interesting and practical film and television news and information.