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Reflections on Modern Poetry after Reading

After reading a book, you must have a lot to share. You can't just watch. Write a review. In order to make you feel no headache after writing and reading, the following are my thoughts on modern poetry (generally 8 articles) for your reference, hoping to help friends in need.

Reflections on modern poetry 1 Although my contact with modern poetry is not as much as that of ancient poetry, there is a poem that I was deeply attracted from the moment I saw it. This poem is "Leaves of Sophora japonica" by Taiwan Province poet Ji Xian: it is the most beautiful, rare and precious in the world, and also the saddest and most tearful. When I look closely, the leaves of Sophora japonica falling gently like cicadas are still stained with the soil of the old country. Ah, ah, when can I return to your arms and enjoy the most pleasant season with the fragrance of Sophora japonica in the world? ……

The poem begins with several words "drunk", which shows the author's love for Sophora japonica leaves. The words "thin", "dry" and "light grayish yellow" make me feel that Sophora japonica leaves are still the most beautiful, rare and precious in the world in the eyes of poets, from which we can see the importance of this leaf to poets and their yearning for their hometown. "Old country, ah, when can I return to your arms and enjoy the most pleasant season with the fragrance of Sophora japonica in the world?" This poem is about the helplessness and pain of the poet who is far away from his hometown and cannot return to his hometown for some reason. The last paragraph is related to the locust tree, because the tree. The poet hopes to return to his hometown again and enjoy a season with the fragrance of Sophora japonica, but when can he enjoy this season again in his hometown? The last paragraph makes me think, when will the poet return to his familiar hometown?

This is my favorite modern poem. Do you like it after reading it?

Reading Gu Cheng's poems always makes people feel a pleasure to challenge their imagination, because the world he wrote is a fairy tale world completely different from ours, a Hong Ying in the sky reflected by a transparent heart lake, which makes you forget the reality in the colorful. In his poems, all the fantastic and lively imagination that people can't get rid of and stop is not a deliberate skill of the poet. In fact, a real poet rejects skill. The poet describes touching the truth with his eyes. He just records, not creates.

In other words, poetry is not the product of his inspiration, but the spirit flying from the opposite side. She may come from the jungle, from the stream, from the gently dancing wings of butterflies, from the mysterious depths of time.

The poem "Many times, like smoke" will also awaken our wonderful feelings. Time, as well as the past events related to time, when we stand somewhere and suddenly look back, we often feel confused. Qin Guan's "Man Ting Fang" contains "how many Penglai past events, how many haze in retrospect. Outside the sunset, crows return to ten thousand points, and flowing water flows around the lonely village. The prodigal son has cried for it many times.

The sunset in the west, the return of crows at ten thousand points, the silent running water flowing eastward, and the small village hidden in the mountains, everything is gently wrapped in a hazy mist, as if it were an ink painting with the theme of recalling the past, which makes people feel endless loneliness.

Closely related to this loneliness is time. Time is eternal, but the time related to the past is erratic. Every minute of our lives will be a thing of the past. This is our destiny, and we live in a haze all the time.

The sentence "Flowers and plants make a big smoke, little red eyes gloat" lets us see the silhouette of a poet facing the fire alone. As night falls, a fire is lit gently, and in those gentle flames, curled white smoke rises quietly. In the eyes of poets, the flickering flame is the eyes of smoke. The poet repeatedly lamented "it's a little late", because those beautiful flames will turn into "beautiful patterns, exquisite water bottles by candlelight" and the fire will go out, so we should all have had such an experience. When the fire is about to go out, the sparks flashing on the firewood have another breathtaking aesthetic feeling.

This kind of beauty is not a static mirror image, but is vividly depicted by the poet with the metaphor of "exquisite water bottle". It will cover the white smoke rising in the wind like a flower, and the dawn of the next day will follow. What happened yesterday has become a memory related to smoking. What was yesterday? There is a loud noise of "bullets hitting copper coins", a bright fire and a carnival related to sweetness.

These, on this day, just left some fragments that will sink into the port. "It's a little late", we once again heard the poet's sigh, because in time, many things have become irreparable old things, and everything that was so real before, including feelings and ideals, including success and failure, has become dust in time. On this day, what is suspended above the dream will be another situation.

The time related to last night has disappeared like fireworks drifting with the wind, taking away the sigh that the poet can't keep his old dreams. However, for life, light is an eternal stream, which has gone for thousands of years and will go on forever. In that case, is it necessary for people with light to sigh for the passing of last night? Lush years, golden years.

The smoke of the past is clear today. There are so many colors in life that we can't bear to give up. Just like the summer when I was a child, we walked barefoot in cool water, or rode bicycles and sang wildly in the storm. Just like when I was young, I walked hand in hand with my beloved girl in the shade, sharing the moonlight, countless misunderstandings and tears, and a figure was speechless.

This is the fire we lit last night, but in fact, even when the fire is the most beautiful and warm, and people forget the time, we never expect that it can always accompany us through such a poetic long night. We just look at the smoky flowers in the sky and pray that we can have a dream with you at some time after dawn.

We have matured. Sometimes I think, maturity is really a sad word. When you say that you are mature, it means that you have completely given yourself to reality. We can use all kinds of beautiful and solemn words to package, such as kindness, duty, loyalty and so on. Our ego has been flattened by the reality, gradually adapted to various masks, and freely played various protagonists.

I'm not in the mood to look at the stars in life. We just sometimes look at the face that is no longer young and the hair that has faded gradually in the mirror, and a trace of desolation passes quietly in our hearts. Because the wind we don't care about has sent us into autumn. In view of this world we don't like, the impulse to escape seems to be gone.

We used to be that little tadpole, thinking that we could live in the water all our lives and be as lively as a fish, but time has turned us into frogs. This world is not a tadpole's. Its only fate is to grow up, that is, to lose itself, become another ugly body and live in a completely different way. Until the end. When singing in Xiang Tao, will you still remember that dream?

Maybe it's true. It's a little late. However, when the whole world's sunshine shines on me, I can still clearly recall the shape of the smoke that night.

Reflections on Modern Poetry Chapter III Misty Poetry reached its acme in the hands of the poet Gu Cheng. Sometimes it's clear as water, sometimes it's boundless as a cloud, but when everything is silent, read it again and again, and you will read the most sincere and philosophical things.

When I watched Confidence, it was the week before the final exam. The cold wind swished into the gap in the scarf, which made me shudder. It's like telling me that the final exam will flood in and cover it silently. And my math will be involved in this storm. The fact in front of me made my mood plummet. I opened the Selected Poems of Gu Cheng and realized that only these little poems can make me put aside my troubles.

When I first saw Confidence, I didn't know my personality, but when I watched it again, I had my own experience. A little boy appeared in my mind. He didn't give in to fate, he succeeded by his own efforts. He walked ahead proudly, smiling. The other one looks exactly like him, but it's illusory. He frowned as if he were going to cry. This is his destiny. What a vivid poem, concise but full of truth.

Yes! Man's destiny depends on self-control, as Tennyson in Britain said, "Man is man and the master of his own destiny". You can't blindly believe in fate, think that everything is destiny takes a hand, and you can't believe the fortune teller's so-called palm reading and face reading. If they can really tell fortune, why not do it for themselves? Why are you still sitting on the street waiting for business? Isn't this worthy of our reflection and thinking?

Hugo said, "When fate hands me a sour lemon, let's try to make it into sweet lemon juice." Yes, everyone's fate is different. As soon as they were born, it was as if they had a new picture scroll, which was their life journey. As for whether it is plain or colorful in the end, it depends on how they paint it themselves. As the saying goes, "it's a sparrow, it's a swan, just in an instant."

Beethoven said, "I will hold my destiny by the throat, and it will never make me yield." I think everyone is equal in modern society. No matter you are male or female, poor or rich, white or yellow or black, you have a platform to show yourself. With their own efforts and self-confidence, African-American presidential candidates have mastered their own destiny, broken the record of African-American presidential candidates and created a miracle of themselves. In the past, due to serious racial discrimination, blacks were treated unfairly and their status was humble. But at the moment, it turns out that as long as you are willing to work hard and dare to control your own destiny, you can succeed.

I suddenly thought of myself. When my math scores frequently "set new records", what I think of is not trying to overcome them, but trying to make up for my poor math scores with my strong subjects. This resigned learning attitude is the main reason why my total score was dropped. I'm beginning to be glad that I understand this now. Although time is running out, there is only one week left, but I believe that as long as I am willing to work hard and change the reality, I will make progress.

The sunshine in winter is warm and soft, like a ray of hope in adversity, inspiring people not to let go. The light is in front ... The Selected Poems of Gu Cheng in my hand is full of sunshine, so I can't help reading it again, thanking it for giving me a road to success when I am confused.

A Farewell to Cambridge, the fourth reflection on modern poetry, is one of Xu Zhimo's most influential works.

This is a short poem describing the beauty of nature and the author's mood. Poets are noble and praise nature. The description of the scenery in the poem is true and delicate, which shows that Cambridge has laid a deep imprint on the poet's heart. Not only that, Cambridge is also a poet's ideal. He said: "Cambridge has taught me to broaden my horizons. My thirst for knowledge was moved by Cambridge, and my self-awareness was given to me by Cambridge." However, the devastated China is in an era when right and wrong are reversed, and the difficult livelihood of the people has gradually shattered the poet's Cambridge ideal. This poem was written on the way back to England in 1928. Revisiting the old place, scenes of the past evoke the author's memories of the past. How can the poet's sensitive heart not be sad when he leaves soon? The theme of this poem is to describe the natural beauty of Cambridge, and to show the author's attachment to Cambridge and his inner melancholy.

In the form of modern vernacular Chinese, this poem inherits the ethereal elegance of China's classical traditional poetry, and also adopts the grammatical mode of phonology, which can be described as a combination of Chinese and Western. The color beauty of painting is also clearly reflected in poetry. In the poem, the clouds, golden willows, green flowers, clear springs and rainbows in the sky are brightly colored, and the beauty of Cambridge is written. Such a colorful picture scroll is not in contradiction with the poet's mood. It is because of its beauty that the poet is so hard to give up!

Reading Farewell to Cambridge is like looking at buildings, singing and enjoying paintings, but what you feel is the poet's faint feeling of parting.

Random thoughts on modern poetry 5 "I walked away gently,

When I came softly;

I waved gently,

Say goodbye to the western clouds. "

……

The night is surprisingly quiet! The noise of the past has been washed away by today's cold current. For a person who lives in a rather prosperous city, this kind of tranquility is rare. At this moment, you can think of everything in your own space, and the Xinjiang horse that lets go of your thoughts can ride freely with it; You can also think nothing, or simply devote yourself to reading a famous book, feel the tacit understanding with the author's heart and forget everything around you. Because at this moment, my heart is as calm as this almost frozen quiet night, and I can dedicate the peace of the night to the noisy people.

I deeply feel that my knowledge structure is abnormal, but unfortunately I haven't read many of Xu Zhimo's works, so I know very little about him. Perhaps it is because "things are rare." Every time I think of Lao Xu's Farewell to Cambridge, the opening song of Chyi Chin's About Winter quietly rings: "I will leave you gently, please wipe away the tears in the corner of my eyes …" Although Lao Xu did not give comfort to wipe away the tears because of the musical beauty of his works. But the strong inner resonance made me feel like I was there. At this moment, I seem to have arrived in Cambridge with the author in Yunfei. Looking down from the railing, the scene of "half river rustling, half river red" came into view again. The afterglow of the sunset reflected the water, and the river was like a layer of gold. The colorful shadows rippling in the water are touching. The leisure and tranquility of swaying green grass, the aquatic plants in the gentle waves of Hekang River, the moon pool under the shade of elm trees, and the crushed dream companions among floating algae are all vividly displayed with the full load of starlight. If you want to swim back to the greener place, you need a long pole. I lamented that the author sang a beautiful poem instead of cheering when he saw the long-lost "Cambridge". Standing in front of Cambridge, I mourn my love with my sincere heart. Because there is a feeling that it can't be fully expressed without words. As the saying goes, "the most affectionate words are silent, and silence is better than sound."

"I left quietly,

Just as I came quietly;

I waved my sleeve,

Don't take away a cloud. "

The mood of farewell flute is lonely and desolate, and the sadness and loss of parting make summer insects silent. But in order to cherish the nostalgia and comfort of revisiting the old place, he left quietly without taking a cloud with him. This feeling of loss and melancholy at the moment; Can't this mentality, which doesn't need to be proved by actions, be replaced by that "Mongolian and Chinese love each other, and heaven remains our neighbourhood, and the sun sets"? All this and many unspeakable feelings are attributed to the wonderful pen of the author Lao Xu. Even though the metaphors and symbols used in this paper are difficult to taste, the fresh and beautiful language, soft tones, harmonious syllables and fluent writing style; The artistic effect of elegant style and the blending of scenery and me is not inferior and insignificant because of the beauty of music, architecture and painting in poetry. The rich image description just shows the author's inner and emotional touch.

Lao Xu's state of mind and passion at that time was not the strong voice and boldness of Su Dongpo's bold poet, nor was it the random twists and turns of "picking chrysanthemums under the east fence and seeing Nanshan leisurely". It is not the sadness and sadness of Li Qingzhao, a graceful poet, that "people are thinner than yellow flowers"; Nor is it the confusion and contradiction of an unknown poet like Shu Ting. The author's melancholy feeling when bidding farewell to Cambridge is borne by the unity of heart and rain god, which is not as faint as Qiong Yao's Flowers and the Moon. At this moment, the mood of "cutting constantly, reasoning is still chaotic" and the sadness of parting are all revealed in those dull and unfamiliar image descriptions. I finally found Gui Youguang's feeling that "sentimental words are silent" and could not help but give in to that short sentence. The influence of less than 200 words is so great that it is Lao Xu's expressive language and artistic appeal that makes him reach the realm of humanistic blending.

Reviewing Farewell to Cambridge again is like drinking a sweet glass of wine. If you savor it carefully, you will still be unfinished, and you will follow Mr. Xu's thoughts with longing. I read it quietly and closed it gently. It's really a bit "where I come from, no one knows;" Nobody knows where I'm going. I wonder: What will Lao Xu's other works leave for readers?

Reflection on Modern Poetry Part VI Time flies and there are many things to return to. They are like a flash in the pan in our life, and then there is no news. Even if we are on iron shoes, there will be no repeat customers waiting in the dim light.

This is life, how scary it is. Many things can only be fantasies in our hearts. I can only think about it, and there will be no more possibilities. How many nights, I savored this poem like tonight, and after the noise, I threw my thoughts into the night of this silent city. ...

In March, in Liu Xufei, south of the Yangtze River, the wind blew from Xu to the east. I saw a woman sitting in the room, listening to her most familiar and expected footsteps, but she didn't listen all day. In this silent moment, I can't help but hear the pounding of dada's hooves, and the woman looks out of the window. I saw the hoofbeat gradually dispersed, leaving only the birds singing in the branches of the courtyard, and the woman was sad. She knows that beauty is easy to age, youth is geometry, and even a beautiful woman can't stand the toss of time. But she also knows that there is no other way but to "wait". So she closed her little heart, just waiting for the return of her lover. ...

In that war-torn era, the war never stopped. Why is every woman waiting for an unknown variable, but how can she change it? What can stop my husband from going to war for his country? Looking back, these women are worth waiting for. Perhaps the ending is mostly before the lover comes, and the temples are gray. However, the prosperity of the motherland is gradually highlighted in this eager expectation.

Today, we will not experience that kind of eager expectation. What we feel as young people is the call of that era. Why not seize the moment, make that lonely expectation more meaningful, and never let that silence ring in today's era.

Reflections on Modern Poetry I accidentally turned to Han Han's blog "How Modern Poetry and Poets Still Exist" in the evening of 7, and I accidentally saw it, but when I accidentally turned it out, I was unexpectedly depressed.

There is a classic saying that writing poetry requires youth and writing novels requires experience. I didn't drop out of high school, and now I'm still living in a university, so I have less natural experience than Han Han.

After the examination paper, the price is clearly marked, and the style is not limited to poetry. Perhaps because of the particularity of poetry, I think I wrote it well, but when I give it to the marking teacher, I may say, damn it, write something. It is natural for the teacher to say this. If he is a little grumpy, he may have to talk to the teacher. If he is more unfortunate, the teacher will raise his hand and slap him twice, and he can only bite his teeth and swallow it in his stomach. So poetry seems to be strangled in the cradle when everyone is just beginning to be young.

A stubborn and full of ideals ran to the university to find a foothold, only to find that there was no place for you to play. He asked a poem to be read by himself. Except for what he wanted to read, only his aunt planned to clean up the venue after the end. The school said that there would be a poetry recital, and I attended it with great interest. I didn't know there was nothing but it until I went there! Beautiful campus, except the manuscript of this sentence, others are Guo Moruo and Wen Yiduo. It is said that Haizi is famous, but his works are difficult to understand and unnecessary.

Then I accidentally remembered the man who said that he was naked to express the essence of poetry, the poet, but it was not too strange because he was a poet. It is said that he is obsessed with the poetic genre of the lower body, and he let people see his lower body, but the essence he wants to express seems to be far from what people understand, or there is an essential difference.

Faced with the embarrassing situation of poetry, the weak avoid mentioning poetry, the violent want to pat the earth, and the struggling are still struggling.

However, poetry is still poetry, no matter how badly you beat it, you still use a concise and precise text to express a person's real existence. As for some people who insist that poetry is a torture to words, there is nothing they can do. Whether he complains that he can't eat grapes or wants to catch up with the trend and make a fool of himself on the cusp.

There are still too many people who don't understand whether indifference to poetry is the evolution or degradation of the times. Some people shake their heads and want to draw a clear line with poetry, as if they were going to be shot if they accidentally said something wrong, while others are still sticking to the pure land left by poetry. You don't have to be an artist with long hair, you just need to polish your eyes and stick to your soul in the noise. Thousands of years of China culture is sacred. If someone stares at it and paints a big nose as a clown, it can only be a kind of bring disgrace to oneself.

Whether writing poetry is to express the incisive catharsis of my physical attachment or to express my thoughts with the stubbornness of dreaming as a horse, it is just to find a cool place for my soul under the big tree of poetry. In fact, there is no difference between avant-garde, pioneer, tradition and backwardness. As long as you can express yourself clearly,

It would be great if it could be used to influence some people. But if I want to say something with this poem, I can only say that I have no food and no support. If I think poetry destroys culture, I can't help but wonder if there is something wrong with my brain. I don't want to move many great people to explain to you the importance of poetry in the development of time. I just want some grandstanding people to know that you are no longer qualified to write poetry.

Admittedly, poetry does face embarrassment. As a person who likes poetry, all I can do is to persist as much as possible. As for those remarks, in what way will they eventually disappear.

After reading modern poetry, I left gently, just as I came gently;

I waved my hand gently and bid farewell to the clouds in the western sky.

The golden willow by the river is the bride in the sunset;

Beautiful shadows in the waves ripple in my heart.

Green grass on the soft mud, oily, swaying at the bottom of the water;

In the gentle waves of He Kanghe, I would like to be an aquatic plant!

The pool under the shade of the elm tree is not a clear spring.

It is the rainbow in the sky that is crushed in the floating seaweed, precipitating a rainbow-like dream.

Looking for dreams? Support a long pole and swim back to a greener place on the grass.

Full of starlight, singing in the splendor of starlight.

But I can't play the piano, just a farewell flute;

Summer insects are also silent for me. Silence is Cambridge tonight.

Farewell to Cambridge is a beautiful lyric poem, just like an elegant and beautiful light music. 1In the autumn of 928, the author visited England again, revisiting his old place, which was full of poetry, and turned his life experience into a series of emotions, blending into the beautiful scenery of Cambridge and galloping in the poet's imagination.

The whole poem begins with "tenderness", "walking", "waving" and "parting from the clouds", and then uses the alternating method of reality and reality to describe a series of flowing pictures, which constitutes a wonderful artistic conception and shows in detail the poet's love for Cambridge, longing for his past life and helpless sadness at present.

This poem shows the poet's superb artistic skills. The poet combines specific scenery with imagination to form a vivid artistic image of poetry, and skillfully blends atmosphere, feelings and scenes into the artistic conception to achieve the feelings and scenes in the scene. The structure of the poem is rigorous and neat. The whole poem consists of 7 sections, each with 4 lines, forming two parallel steps; 1 and 3 lines are slightly shorter, and 2 and 4 lines are slightly longer, ranging from 6 to 8 words per line. It seems that the poet intends to combine the forms of metrical poetry and free verse, making it a new form of poetry, full of nationalization and modern architectural beauty. The language of the poem is fresh and beautiful, the rhythm is gentle and euphemistic, harmonious and natural. With the ups and downs of emotions, it is like a melodious board, light and tactfully, touching the readers' heartstrings.

In the 1920s, the poet Wen Yiduo advocated the beauty of music, painting and architecture in modern poetry. Farewell to Cambridge can be said to have three beauties, and it is the swan song in Xu Zhimo's poems.