Is there a real meaning in this? Words fail me if I try to tell you

Mr. Cheng, who is far away in Lingnan, has been paying attention to his hometown Leshan, and the old friends of his hometown have always had a constant relationship in his heart. No, a few days ago, she posted a photo in a group of friends formed by photographer Mr. Deng. It was a group photo of a group of friends who loved poetry art in Leshan at the end of 1986 to welcome the poet Gu Cheng and his wife and the poet Sun Jingxuan.

I know some people in the photo. On the left in the front row is my junior high school classmate, Tang Anna, who worked in the Great Buddha Temple at that time. On the left is Sun Jingxuan, a poet who joined the Eighth Route Army in 1943. He used to be the vice chairman of the Sichuan Writers Association and the director of the Sichuan Poetry Committee. The third from the left is Xie Ye, and Shu Ting stands at the far right of the second row. The third from the right in the front row is Fu Tianlin, a Chongqing poet. There were also ten national poets selected at that time, such as Jiang He and Xu Jingya, and I didn't match them. On the right hand side in the front row is Zhou Gang, a Leshan poet.

Behind Sun Jingxuan, the poet Gu Cheng is wearing a hat, and the painter Wan Yibin is wearing a cap in the second left of the third row. It seems that Du Ming is next to him. Not sure. The fourth from the left is North Island, standing next to a man wearing a military coat. Looking at the head on the left in the last row is the painter Lin Yuan, and on the right in the back row is the teacher Cheng Yaping who loves literature.

This photo is very precious. It reminds me of the 198s. It was at the end of 1986, and the Star Poetry Magazine organized a poetry reading in Chengdu at the Chengdu Workers' Cultural Palace.

2, tickets were robbed at once, and more people failed to enter. During the recitation, the poet Ye Wenfu waved on the stage and said, "My people," so excited that he fainted. After the event, the crazy audience chased the poet for autographs, and Beidao and others were said to be hiding under the table to get away.

I also heard that the iron gates of the Workers' Cultural Palace were all collapsed.

On that trip, in addition to Beidao, several heroes of the misty poetry school who swept the country in their early years arrived, including Shu Ting, Gu Cheng, Luo Yihe and others. They were treated like rock stars in Chengdu. They were crazy on the stage and dizzy under the stage. The wind of poetry blew across the Chengdu Plain. It was a period of boiling blood.

After the poetry meeting, Sun Jingxuan, as the organizer, accompanied the young poets to Leshan to see the Giant Buddha.

Gu Cheng has feelings for Sichuan, and one of his most famous poems was published in the poetry magazine Star in 1981. A * * * two sentences:

"? The night gave me black eyes, but I used them to look for light.

Speaking of it, Gu Cheng and Xie Ye, the couple, from knowing each other and loving each other, to dying on a desert island in New Zealand, were full of the characteristics of that era. Dare to face it!

One day in July 1979, on the train from Shanghai to Beijing, Gu Cheng met Xie Ye for the first time. Xie Ye took the satchel from Gu Cheng off the hanger and hung up his backpack. Although Gu Cheng was unhappy, the two young people met each other.

Gu Cheng went back to Beijing from Shanghai, and Xie Ye went to Chengde to visit his father. When the bus arrived in Nanjing, Xie Ye, whose seat was occupied, stood beside Gu Cheng and watched him draw. Attend to city drew everyone around him, but didn't draw Xie Ye. "I think you are so bright that my eyes can't stop." (Gu Cheng's first letter to Xie Ye)

Before getting off at Beijing Railway Station, Gu Cheng left Xie Ye an address in Beijing. "You are still laughing, and I am angry with you. I know that there is one in the world where you live and grow more real than me. I took out a piece of paper and wrote down my address. " (Gu Cheng's first letter to Xie Ye) "You put the address in my hand, looking polite and full of anger." (Xie Ye's reply to Gu Cheng)

When Xie Ye returned to Shanghai, he passed through Beijing and went to the door according to the address left by Gu Cheng, only to find ink left by a pen on Gu Cheng's pocket. Xie Ye left his address in Shanghai. "We didn't say anything. We know this is the beginning, not the farewell."

Gu Cheng and Xie Ye began to write to each other. "Will you write to me? You said you would. How much to write? You compare it with your hand, and the thickness is at least equal to two novels. " (Xie Ye's reply to Gu Cheng) "When the sun goes down, your eyes are full of light, like your name, like a brilliant sky. I will watch you silently and let my life be bathed in brilliance." (Gu Cheng wrote back to Xie Ye)

Wen Qing at that time was very familiar with many poems. For example, the poet Haizi's "I don't care about human beings tonight, I just want you".

Delingha, located to the west of Qinghai Lake, is "a desolate city in the rain". Haizi didn't care about human beings at night here in 1988, but only missed his "sister" who was far away in Lhasa, a poet friend who had been communicating for a long time. My sister finally rejected Haizi's courtship. However, Delingha's lyrical tenderness has remained, replacing its desolate face in history.

love in the 198s was a twin of poetry, but it also contained taboos. Ye Fu's description in Love in the 198s is beyond people's comprehension. After a long separation, the hero and heroine were speechless in the face of the fire all night. "That's how love was at that time." One of Shu Ting's love poems was once popular in an era:

"If I love you-I will never show off myself with your lofty branches like a climbing campbell;

If I love you-I will never imitate spoony birds and repeat monotonous songs for the shade;

I must be a kapok near you, standing with you as the image of a tree. "

Today's readers don't know what they think when they see this passage similar to a love letter.

After the death of Gu Cheng and Xie Ye, their friend Zhang Yiwei still remembers: Gu Cheng once attracted Xie Ye deeply, and Xie Ye will never meet someone who communicates with her in a way of fantasy plus reality, art plus life. Xie Ye has a strong personality, is a poet, understands literature and has a strong sense of mission.

Wang Anyi recalled that when chatting with Gu Cheng in Germany, Xie Ye would take out a small tape recorder and record the whole process of Gu Cheng's conversation. "Every word he said will not be missed, but will be treasured."

Interested readers can go and see some books, such as Ying Er, Soul Breaking Riptide Island, Love Yi Meier and so on.

Let's go back to that photo.

The poets in the 198s not only wrote passionate words, but listen to this poem written by Beidao:

"I don't believe that the sky is blue

I don't believe that the thunder doesn't echo

I don't believe that dreams are false

I don't believe that there is no retribution for death

I don't want to comfort you

Write lies about spring on trembling maple leaves".

They write more poems about behavior. Wan Xia, a poet, recalled those years, "By the summer of 1985, Sichuan poets had been knotted together, forming the largest poetic river and lake in China, and it was still spreading indefinitely. Poets from Chengdu, Chongqing, Nanjing, Shanghai, Beijing and Northeast China are approaching Chengdu in the name of a poem and a reception. The sponsors of this drinker conference are Song Wei and me.

Just after a heavy rain, around 4 pm, I was still taking a nap. Song Qu and Song Wei were standing under my window and knocking on my window. I opened the curtains in the gloom and saw their thin faces.

a few minutes later, we found a restaurant selling hot pot and sat down beside Xuedao Street, on the right of the intersection of Guwolongqiao Street and Qingshiqiao, not far from our home. That restaurant can't remember its name, so it's called "hot pot restaurant". The three of us went to eat hot pot in high spirits. In 1985, Chongqing hot pot was the kind of old stove hot pot, burning briquettes, and there was Jiugong Gege in a big pot. Whether you know it or not, everyone ate around it. This seemingly vulgar style of play was still very rare in Chengdu at that time. Chengdu is very rustic, and the food is still small pots, such as those of Beijing instant-boiled mutton and small copper pots, which are very polite and elegant. It was 5 o'clock in the afternoon, so we ordered a big table and asked the boss to come out and add special materials. But that restaurant is so bad, there is no butter, and the turtle son actually added a spoonful of lard, a handful of pepper powder and Chili noodles to Lao Zi.

The more you eat hot pot, the more uncomfortable it becomes. As soon as I slapped my desk, I suddenly said to Song Wei, Shit, go to Chongqing. Song Wei asked: What are you doing in Chongqing? I said: Go and have a real hot pot. Hearing this, Song Hui immediately jumped up rubbing his hands. Brother Qu is more rational. He said that he would leave and go to see his mother-in-law.

more than two hours later, we got on the train to Chongqing with a big bag of braised pig's ears, braised pig's feet, duck's feet and two bottles of spring sand and white dried pork. At that time, the train didn't speed up, and it took 11 hours from Chengdu to Chongqing. Of course, 11 hours is not far, just a sleep. But the fare is more expensive. I want to go to 11 yuan. In 1985, 1 yuan could knock a table full of people.

By 7 o'clock in the morning, Song Wei and I had finished the two bottles of spring sand that we brought with us on the train and the pot-stewed vegetables we bought. But at that time, we were not sleepy. We can't sleep at the thought of eating authentic Chongqing hot pot soon. Fortunately, time is running out. Soon, the train has arrived in Shapingba.

The morning in Shapingba was unexpectedly quiet, and several hot pot restaurants were searched continuously, but they didn't open. Even if he accidentally pushed open one or two doors, he was angrily driven out by the boss. You are all crazy. The boss yelled at me and Song Wei in their loud Chongqing dialect and came to eat duck's hot pot early in the morning? "

This is the poet of the 198s. Always in motion. As North Island said in a poem, "At that time, we had dreams, about literature, about love and about traveling across the world. Nowadays, when we drink in the middle of the night and the cups meet, it is the sound of broken dreams. "

After the article was written here, I looked back at the various figures in this photo. I had a feeling that poets at that time were like a fire, light in the dark. Give people strength. It's not like today, when you say who is a poet, it's a way of swearing.

poets, where have you been?