I accidentally read some poems by An Lan, a female poet in Baiyin, Gansu Province, recommended by the poetry recitation column of Deng Hong Poetry Talk. I found this to be the most gratifying and sentimental moment in recent days.

After reading these poems, even when I can't wait to finish reading them, I am eager to express some feelings that my heart is touched and my heartstrings are resonated. I didn't expect that the contemporary poetry world, which I thought had already declined, could produce such clusters of simple, pure, beautiful flowers with eternal vitality.

Simple language and plain language can enable the general public, regardless of gender, old and young, to enter the door of poetry, the open heart of the host and get equal treatment without crossing the threshold of the intellectual class. There are no gold, silver and jewels here, only plain tea, rice, oil and salt, as well as inexhaustible dirt and dust, simple vegetation, boiled water and air mixed with strong winds, fireworks and sweat.

But it can make a reader's heart get joy and sublimation that gold and silver can't buy, and let life bathe in the warmth of sunshine and the bright moonlight that eclipses all jewels. Boiled water, while drinking in your mouth to quench your thirst, tastes the light sweetness after bittersweet. What is even more fascinating is the colorless and invisible air, the wild wind mixed with sweat and fireworks, which seems to record a history of wandering back and forth in the years: sorghum sleeps, wakes up, germinates, grows, thrives, blooms and bears ears under the soil, and then is harvested, deprived, baked repeatedly, tortured by fire and water, and finally sealed in a secret room, day after day, month after month, year after year, year after year.

The past is vivid, bitter or sweet, sad or happy, right or wrong or gain or loss. How can we be so regretless, grateful, cherished, let go, be honest, simplify the complex and turn the five flavors into intoxicating?

Through poetic expression, the personality's experience of suffering has quietly shared and shared the reader's suffering, and it has merged into the infinite space between heaven and earth, which makes me pay tribute. Appreciate the magic in the plain and associate it with the greatness in the dust. Today's simplicity makes me know more about some distant ancients, such as Tao Yuanming under the hedge of picking chrysanthemums.

I just wanted to write a sentence or two I liked. Unexpectedly, after reading a few poems, I have already imagined an "article". Simply compile a poem in Tang style, tentatively named "Simple and Rich, Plain".

Attached:

An Lan, a poetess in Baiyin, Gansu: Those shy love words are all expressed.

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