I've really thought about it. In fact, there are many poets who live long. Qiu Wei in the Tang Dynasty lived 96 years. He wrote "Pear on the Left": "Cool beauty deceives snow, and fragrance suddenly enters clothes. The spring breeze is uncertain and blows to the jade steps. " A pair of out-of-touch appearance. He Zhangzhi, known as a "desperate fanatic", became more and more demon with his age. When he lives to be eighty-five, all the children in his poetry kindergarten will recite it.
However, when it comes to short-lived poets, it seems that more can be pointed out: Cao Zijian died of depression at the age of 39 in A Talented Man and a Beautiful Woman, Wang Bo fell into the water at the age of 27 in A Preface to Wang Teng Pavilion, and Nalan Xingde, the favorite of young fresh people, died of excessive drinking at the age of 365,438+0, and Cangyang Jiacuo, who wanted to "pay homage to the Buddha", only lived to the age of 24.
Even in modern times, poets are still synonymous with early death: Xu Zhimo, a new moon poet, died in the clouds at the age of 34, Gu Cheng, a representative of the misty school, hanged himself at the age of 37, and Haizi, who took dreams as a horse, chose to leave this world at the age of 25. This is just China. If we include foreign poets such as Shelley, Byron, Keats and petofi, the list will be very long. From this perspective, a poet is really a dangerous profession.
Envy of talented people seems to be a curse to poets, but the poet who impressed me the most was Li He, who was called "Shi Gui". This genius who doesn't take the usual path in poetry creation basically exhausted himself.
Everyday Li He is like this: riding a lonely thin donkey, leading a four-foot-tall boy, while walking, searching for his heart and scratching his stomach, suddenly arousing a spark of inspiration. He can't wait to pick up a piece of paper and record it and throw it into the bag carried by extremely poor people. When he got home at night, he couldn't even eat, so he emptied out the pieces of paper in his pocket. He won't stop until he writes a few good sentences. Seeing so many pieces of paper like snowflakes, his mother said with distress, "It's my ears that spit!" " "
He wrote a poem "Qiu Lai", which is a thrilling portrayal:
Rainy and gloomy, crying at night, still writing. This attitude of writing with life makes the poet's weak body untenable. In the 11th year of Yuanhe (AD 8 16), Li He died in the former residence of Changgu at the age of 27.
According to historical records, Li Hezu used to be a relative of the country, but by his father's generation, his family had fallen into poverty and was in dire straits. Probably because of malnutrition, Li He looks like a bean sprout, with slender hands and eyebrows like a monk with long eyebrows (according to the photo album, it is better to live a long life than to believe in books). But the lack of calcium, iron, zinc and selenium did not affect his IQ development. At the age of seven, he was already a well-known child prodigy. Mr. Han Yu, a famous literary master, took his friend Huang Fushi to give a personal lecture. Xiao Lihe's psychological quality is very good. After seeing the two great men, he took his time, wrote a poem "Gao Xuan Guo" with a sigh, and put a top hat on them with the poem. As the saying goes, there are thousands of people, but they don't wear flattery. Besides, this is the flattery of a school-age child's senior. Han Yu and Huangfushi were overjoyed after reading it, and praised them in succession. They immediately invited Xiao Xiao to be a guest at home and said that they would be the leader of his literary creation. With the care and encouragement of Han tuizhi, the great savior of the literati, Li Yi, a young man, started to write poems out of control and created many heroic poems, the most famous of which was The Wild Goose Gate:
The whole article is full of vigorous style of frontier fortress poems in the prosperous Tang Dynasty. The poet, with his brain wide open, described a battle that happened in his imagination: autumn scenery, Xiao Sunset, Golden Drum and Red Flag, White Blade as Frost, so brave! In fact, Li He has never been to the border or been to the battlefield in his life. You can write such a decent poem entirely by your brain. What can you do except say it's a gift?
There is also a five-line poem that I like better, but the title of the poem lacks recognition as a serial number. Twenty-three Horses Poems Fifth:
? A simple 20 words can outline a cold border scenery, and Xiao Li's imagination has broken through the sky!
Li He, who was already famous in Beijing before the weak crown, was confident and ready to take the imperial examination. He has passed the government exam before, and he is going to take the national unified exam this time. As long as he can pass, he can enter the ranks of national civil servants. Just when everything was ready except for the east wind, Li He suddenly suffered a blow. We know that China has a fine tradition called "taboo". If a word has been used by the emperor or his ancestors in his name, his subjects and descendants can no longer use it. This custom of breaking off cows has a long history. For example, Emperor Guangwu of Han Dynasty was called Liu Xiu. Later, people could no longer say the word "scholar", so they had to call it "Cai Mao". Confucius became a saint, not worthy of his name. All scholars should pronounce "A" when they encounter the word "autumn". In short, it can be understood that emperors, saints and ancestors registered patents on their names and had exclusive rights. No one is allowed to make good use of them, otherwise the consequences will be very serious. The reason why Li He is so sad is simple, because his father's name is "Li Jinsu". "Jin" and "Jin" are homonyms, and it's totally outrageous that someone who is good at it makes a fuss about it, saying that Li He didn't shy away from his father's name and came to take the Jinshi exam. This is really a great sin in an era when you can criticize your heart with words. Although Han Yu stepped forward and wrote an article "Debate on Taboos" to argue for him, it didn't help. Li He, full of ideals, left the examination room for such nonsense reasons and could not be admitted to Jinshi for life. In a fit of pique, Li He wrote "Out of the City":
You can imagine how uncomfortable it is to go back to the nest like a crow wounded by a slingshot. However, he was not immersed in sadness and depression, and soon he pulled himself together and wrote a bunch of poems named after serial numbers. One of the songs, the fifth song of Thirteen Songs in the South Garden, is quite wild:
Princes will have no seeds. At this time, Li He seems to want to find another way to make contributions by joining the army. I don't know why, Xiao Li seems to be fascinated by his martial arts. His poems are always full of swords and shadows, but as far as his physical condition is concerned, he is really not qualified for such a job. Judging from his later experience, it's a good thing that he didn't give up his hobby of writing poems and join the army, otherwise we might not be able to read those brilliant poems.
Li He is known as "Shi Gui", and his poems are really like holding a knife in front of him, with sudden and strange changes. In Li Ping's poems, which are widely read by the world, he showed the magical power of how to turn beautiful music into magnificent words:
Tang people have many elegant styles. They not only love writing poems and painting, but also love cuju and sword dancing. They also like classical music. Thanks to Li He, a literary lover, I was able to record this auditory feast just because I listened to a concert by the famous performer Li Ping at that time. Let's hear, no, feel this incomparable performance. I have always thought that Du Fu's Watch Gong Sundaniang's Disciple Dancing the Sword and Qin and this poem Li Ping can be regarded as two treasures describing images and sounds in the history of China's poetry. What is commendable is that "synaesthesia", a rare rhetorical device in ancient Chinese, is widely used in poetry, and Li Changji's name of genius really deserves its reputation!
Li He, a lonely and enthusiastic poet, like a meteor, hurried across the sky of the poetry circle in the prosperous Tang Dynasty. Perhaps writing poetry is really a sad and tiring job, so that he spent his life at the age of 27. Friends who ask me why poets don't live long may not want an answer if they can understand this short passage. Lu You, an equally lonely poet of the Southern Song Dynasty, wrote a poem "Rain at Jianmen Road" during his journey:
The poet on the thin donkey in the oblique wind and drizzle, the wanderer in the rivers and lakes, this is Lu You, this is Li He, and this is our own yearning for poetry and distance!