A favorite author once said that life, so easily, overwhelms us. As time goes by, we gradually grow up and slowly become a numb person in the torrent of life. Modern life is like a fast-paced train that drags people forward without allowing it to stop. Men and women who live in the city all year round will not wait patiently for a sunrise, let alone carefully observe the changing trajectory of an apple and clouds in the sky; study the shape of a tree, listen to the breath of the wind and feel the branches Mottled light and shadow. Even the news of the sudden death of someone who may have not been in touch for a long time is only stunned, and then quickly forgotten. Accustomed to the vulgar daily life, beauty is distant and unfamiliar to us. Wang Xiaobo said that it is not enough for a person to have this life, he should also have a poetic world. Yang Mezi is probably different from ordinary people. The various difficulties and crises in real life and the aging of regular visits have not turned her into a dull and numb person. She is like the bright flesh of the fruit in the field after it has fallen to the ground. It is mixed with pure and hard core. I don't care about the passing of the four seasons.
Yang Meizi, who is over 60 years old, insisted on writing a poem. For this reason, she requested that one more person be added to the poetry training class whose registration period has expired, and try to enter it. Worried about how to write a poem. I ask people many times about writing poetry, and carry a notebook and pen with me to record sudden inspirations. No one can understand her, this old lady in her sixties always dresses brightly and greets people around her with a smile. She doesn't seem to have any dissatisfaction with life. Writing poetry now is nothing short of intriguing. Someone might even make fun of her for it.
Compared with the purity and beauty of poetry, Yang Meizi's life is not so beautiful. Yang Meizi's memory began to gradually decline, and the doctor told her that it would gradually be forgotten, first with nouns, then with verbs. The cruel Alzheimer's disease will make Yang Meizi gradually forget all the details of her life, eroding her memory, until one day she can no longer speak a complete sentence, let alone write a poem. The elderly Yang Mezi raised her ignorant grandson by herself, and survived on government subsidies and work as a nanny. Occasionally, I have a phone call with my daughter who is out of town and report on life programmatically. It is not difficult to see in the movie that even if she is the only relative, her daughter is probably indifferent to the elderly who are over 60 years old. Such a real crisis did not break Yang Mizi's confidence in life and made her complain about life. On the contrary, time seems to have left no trace on her, and she is still as beautiful as yesterday. Like a naive girl, she is sensitive to the details of life and curious about things. Like caring about the death of a suicide girl in the river. If it weren't for the grandson and several other boys in the class who raped a young girl and were indifferent to the girl's death.
"After Auschwitz, writing poetry is barbaric." There seems to be a huge cruel rift among all the things that happen in real life and the poetry in Yang Meizi's heart. Yang Meizi could have been like the people around her, repeating her life day after day. No need to dress up, smile softly to those around you, greet an irrelevant old lady on the side of the road, pay attention to a mother who has lost control after losing her daughter who is nowhere to be seen. There is no need to go to the river where the girl committed suicide, to feel the death of the girl, nor to care about the blooming and death of a flower, or the apricots falling from the tree, and always treat everything with a gentle and peaceful heart. In the face of the girl's death, she can choose to ignore it like those powerful fathers. With the five million that I finally got, I will use it to protect my grandson, and the days will continue as usual. But Yang Meizi didn't. She couldn't convince her grandson that her daughter's death had nothing to do with her grandson, and she couldn't tolerate her grandson's numbness and stupidity. Five million can't get her grandson's confession for the dead girl, which makes her unable to calm down any more and write a poem about goodness and beauty.
Yang Meizi came to the bridge where the girl committed suicide, and the wind blew her hat away. She opened the notebook she carried with her, and she might have wanted to write something, mourning the death of the girl. There was no sign of rain falling in the sky. Raindrops hit the paper, speckled like silent tears. As if weeping.
On the one hand is the desire to write a poem, on the other is the evil of ordinary life. This evil is so strong that it is stuck in the throat. Like a huge swamp hidden under the surface of a calm river, suddenly excavated one day. No one can understand Yang Meizi's pain and guilt, and she is the only one who weeps for the sins committed by ignorant boys. Perhaps only Yang Meizi, who is over fifty years old, knows this common sense. How to make atonement for a life that can no longer be recalled. The guilt that weighed on my heart will follow for the rest of my life.
Before deciding to send off her grandson, Yang Meizi warned her grandson to be decent. That was her attitude towards life all along, not only her physical cleanliness, but her inner decency as well. She did exactly that. A cruel life cannot take away a person's decent dignity and yearning for beauty, which is the sensibility and gratitude for life of a person who is always pure and loves life. It is the foundation of her soul.
Can poetry save the mundane life? The teacher in the poetry class said that it is not difficult to write a poem, but the heart to write poetry is difficult. At the poetry reading meeting that Yang Meizi attended, someone read a poem she wrote: "Writing poetry is to remember mother's hands and thick joints. To wash rice on the cold evening of the winter solstice, to write poetry is to be alone on a crying night. Wake up, build a solid cornerstone, hold up a pillar, hold up a broken heart. It is to appease the window that shakes all night, the bare window frame." The old man in "Paradise Cinema" told the child that life is different from the movie, Life is harder than a movie. It seems that as soon as people come to this world, they cannot escape from the ordinary life and imagine another appearance. It is impossible to escape the heaviness and complexity of real life. Literature and art cannot save life, and a poetic heart cannot stop this evil from appearing. Some people say that life can never be saved, that life is life itself, and that life can only be endured. Just like Yang Meizi in "Poem", despite her guilt, she couldn't save her stupid and indifferent grandson. Together with everyone's cruel attitude towards this matter, compassion made it impossible for her to continue to live with a delicate heart as usual. In the end, in despair, he handed over his dependent grandson to the police in despair. Yang Meizi's kindness made her unable to remain indifferent to all this and chose to be numb. Even if she has to tell the employer's daughter about the extra money she received from her employer, she can see that this is not in line with the kindness and beauty in her heart.
Poetry did not save Yang Meizi, what saved Yang Meizi was her pure and innate love of life.
Like the girl who committed suicide, after handing over her grandson to the police, Yang Meizi finally returned to the river. The river is a dialogue deep in the soul, a redemption. Although Yang Meizi is innocent. The river is scouring, washing, and forgetting, the guilt that can finally be put down. After the soul of the girl who threw herself into the river in the past went to another place, the sun was as bright as usual, and everything by the river was still so vibrant. The world is as cruel as a demure afternoon, and will not remember anyone's departure. The only poem handed over was Yang Meizi's final confession to the world and her heartfelt confession to the girl before she left.
before it disappears, before it is completely forgotten
Fortunately, I can write another poem
Also forgive me, I can only leave one poem
That's all my love and the only thing in the world to give back
how are you there
i'm leaving
Please put a flower in front of my tombstone if you can
Kyoko chose to fall in preparation for the next year's rebirth
Death may be as beautiful as life
remember my poem
like remember me
The river continues to flow, and the moonlight will make every night as bright as tonight
and i love you
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