Seek the full text of the fourth chapter of Rafter Love's Salute to the Ruins.

Loff

Small order

Since the spring of 2000, I have thrown away all the interference of life and entertainment, and devoted myself to creating a poem "Drift Wood" by more than 3,000 presidents. This poem is mainly my metaphysical thinking about life and the overall reality and culture of China. It is divided into four chapters, the first chapter: driftwood, the second chapter: salmon, dying eyes, and the third chapter: letters in a drift bottle (this chapter is divided into four sections, each of which is an epistolary poem, which is written to mother, poet and poet respectively. This chapter has seventy sections, each with six lines. Its neat form can also reflect the solemnity of poetry.

Chapter Four: Salute to the Ruins

Prajna reality, non-phase, non-phase, non-phase, non-phase, non-phase, non-phase, non-phase, non-phase, from all phases, that is, all laws.

-King Kong Prajna Paramita Sutra

1

I look down at the depths of my heart.

As expected.

Not a single tile was left-it was razed to the ground.

I saw a woodchuck standing on tiptoe in the distance.

Go to ruins

welcome

2

Ever since that brick was removed from my chest

Dreams float one by one.

A caterpillar crawled out of a black hole in the universe.

I forget whether I have ever been here.

I only know that the wind is not clothes and the clouds are not umbrellas.

Sunshine only gives some hair dye.

three

Get used to sleeping naked

Clothes are the most inclusive night.

He is used to embracing his burning self in the dark.

People who wake up from the stone find that

He is the only naked person, face him.

All the oranges are peeled off at once.

four

Pay tribute to nudity

Pay tribute to the sweetest pomegranate in autumn.

They threw away their clothes.

It also removes the fence of the soul.

The street was crowded with people.

Looking for a stone and its door.

five

But I found out

It's just a sick old cricket under a stone.

And its inexplicable monologue

And my monologue

The sunset passed by the window.

Monologue, the temperature is the same but the content is completely different.

six

My mumbling doesn't make any sense, even

There was no sound, in the absolute silence I made.

A wall suddenly fell at my feet.

Many people are forced to stay away and be afraid.

Entangled by poisonous vines that grow in silence

They said: my poem has been soaked in cold rain for too long.

seven

If you burn these poems,

Maybe you can hear their movement rhythm when they are boiling.

To put it bluntly, it's like

Subconsciously hatched a nest of vibrant bean sprouts.

It is said that the poet's immortality

Mostly built on a pile of charged dandruff.

eight

Afternoon of wild celery

The woman sobbed under the ruins.

She watered the poppy in the garden with tears.

This used to be a brightly lit mansion.

Now the mouse proudly walks into the room.

Completely ignoring the striking copper nails on the gate.

nine

Before it becomes ruins.

They foresaw the unpredictable afterlife in the smoke.

Overnight rout is like picking a wild celery.

They are dressed in gorgeous sunset glow.

Cherish cough medicine and cobwebs collected in past dynasties.

They released themselves like runaway mountain torrents.

10

Yellow photos of grandpa on the hall wall.

by no means fortuitous

I won't be yellow myself, time will tell.

Abandoned kerosene lamps, abandoned plush chairs

There is still greasy body temperature on the plush chair.

Grandfather on the wall refused to turn yellow.

1 1

On rainy days in history, there are always a few fish falling.

It was black and blue, but fortunately it happened to fall on

On that spider web

An empty dream. The spider woke up.

I only smell fish in the room.

The broken bones of history are scattered all over the place.

12

You walked into the hall as soon as you crossed the wall.

Is to meet a pile of charred old things.

Bats blew away the ashes and flew into the cold sunset.

Reality has no phase, not no phase.

There's nothing but a cookie box in the corner.

It's empty. The ants are going home.

13

I remember a tall maple tree at the gate.

Just yesterday, I became a dead tree and someone swept it away.

Leaves fall, leaving desolation.

There are birds that are killed by loneliness. Nihility, its essence

It smells like smoke and burning, and then

A group of termites, they build nests.

14

This tree is dead.

The river dried up.

A pair of shoes fell asleep by the well.

Continue to rot

Continue to exaggerate the contradiction between obesity and revolution

Continue to lose weight until the root of the tooth shows white teeth.

15

continue

The ruins show humility, while a group of cockroaches continue.

Feeding their offspring in desolate drawers.

Pupation is a preview of death.

In the darkest darkness.

Avenue is hidden, not lost.

16

I'm not exactly an Epicurean.

Love sweets but have no intention.

Have all the sugar and spring in the flower.

What will happen first when the sky falls and hits the people of Sri Lanka?

I was asked to take out a cow bone comb from a bucket of fresh milk.

How frustrating.

17

We often learn from that man's endless speech.

Found some rough pebbles rolling down.

The sea speaks through waves.

The sea found the burial place of fish in the waves.

And his speech is a bunch of beautiful waves at best.

Loneliness in pebbles

18

Cautious silence

Sometimes words, sometimes silence, the distance between them.

It is the distance between water and waves, and the distance between salt and salt water.

Nag when you tidy your hair, and nag when you brush your teeth.

Manicure nagging, the sound of broken glass inside obscene clothes.

The woman conquered all morning, no, she was injured.

19

I went to the innermost wing, where there was no one.

There was silence, and not a mouse passed quietly.

There is a bucket of moonlight hanging by the well.

A violin came back from a dream.

Unfortunately, I met him on the road.

A moth who just came out of Bach's music.

20

So a pile of sawdust fell off the piano.

All night, continuously.

grind one's teeth

Tchaikovsky's sigh has a lot of imagination.

One of the hens

Is incubating for some time.

2 1

In the crumpled evening paper

Absurd events spread everywhere.

I am luckier than Socrates to live today.

On the other side of the river, the evening bell rang.

When the moon sets, it cries and croakes.

Autumn colors fly down from the birch trees one by one.

22

Soon it snowed and the crock tilted to the south.

It's very cold. The fire was caused by flying snow.

Swallowed up a hundred years of glory, ignorance and pain.

From all phases, that is, all laws.

A new cultural history will rise from a pinch of cold ashes.

Rise from our forgetfulness.

23

Be defeated by yourself

I have never been there.

The reflection by the pool is necessary to apologize.

Thunder in June

A man passed the porch and left in a hurry.

The sadness of the sudden bursting of the pottery bottle

24

I still don't know who I owe.

But there is already a willingness to repay.

I let all the sunshine shine on a collapsed bed.

Wake them up.

Let them stand up.

Make them happy like a pool of mud

25

There is a large area of silence hidden in the thunderstorm

Then the moonlight rustled.

Enter through the window

There is a sly mirror in the bedroom.

She-she looked at each other.

Subverting a man is not that difficult.

26

Honey makes a woman's mouth mature quickly.

Rapid oxidation

Disappear as quickly as autumn rain

She left me a pot of lavender when she left.

She gave an ambiguous smile.

Threaten me

27

Like drying an old book.

I lay fearless in time.

real life

Start timing after death.

Except nothingness

All parts of the body can participate in reincarnation.

28

Yes, a wooden box.

Except nails.

Wood blocks in all directions will rot at any time.

I'm sure you've found out

I have nothing.

The box was empty before it was made.

29

You are used to shaping me in thousands of ways.

Saw me to pieces.

Nail me into a square.

Clear state

Real me

Hidden in the flying sawdust

30

I am slow.

Cutting off my limbs will never hurt.

My cleverness will never be wronged.

Out of form and wisdom.

Give me back the absolutely empty box.

Then try to forget yourself (note)

Note: See Zhuangzi? Master, Yan Hui said, "If you lose your limbs, you will be wise. If you lose your form, you will be the same as Datong. This is called sitting and forgetting. "

3 1

Forgetting is the chaos between heaven and earth.

In a little black box.

An egg

Forgetting things, I am right or wrong, safety, fortune, life and death.

Forget the cold lips of the hip flask

Forget the maggots.

32

Forget the wings.

I can go home, hold the earth and fly directly to the Milky Way.

Forget the meteor, forget it

We met a group of Sirius by accident in the channel.

Forget the skeleton.

Forget the things that are holding us back.

33

Forget the time

Forget the complicated process of reaching nirvana.

You forgot to close the door when you left.

Forget being rejected

It's best to forget the last rain in summer.

A dragonfly slipped violently on the lotus leaf.

34

It cares too much about being a dragonfly.

Fortunately, it's not a butterfly.

Fortunately, it forgot about wet dream.

Dreams will catch fire.

Wake up in the ruins

Fortunately, I'm just an empty house.

35

Where is the knife?

In ants, in barnyard grass, in tiles, in shit.

Some people say it is everywhere.

In fact, it's in the fire, in the ashes.

On burnt skin and hair

In the calluses of the palms of ancestors who never turned into butterflies.

36

So, towering above the body.

Tower, this is necessary.

A snail climbed up.

A window that can see the sunset.

He squatted there motionless and looked at it carefully.

The height of death

37

But desire is above everything else.

The stomach has an amazing appetite.

The fire is higher.

And cigarettes.

But through the body of the fire, with his arms around his head.

Then hide in the wind.

38

My intelligence borders on an idiot.

Critical moment

I thought taking out a part of a certain part

He unplugged the bolt of desire.

Thought it was washed under the tap.

Dirty hands will fly like pigeons.

39

The clock is aging rapidly.

Echo, like a paper crane flying out of my palm.

Never fly back.

On the top of the mountain, Shan Ying hovered.

The sunset on the lonely hero's back is so beautiful.

I'd rather embrace a fictional snow.

40

On an old tombstone

The name of the snow chisel has begun to melt.

Time, sitting there without saying a word

Wait quietly and listen.

The next Tomb-Sweeping Day will bring comfort to the dead.

sound of rain

Forty two.

It was an era of losing voice.

The boiling kettle is silent.

Seven bicycles were dumped along the way.

Police on the road

Make eyes at pedestrians.

A group of loyal dancers ran a red light.

43

Actually, slogans don't need to be voiced.

You can shake a person into a rag.

Open your mouth just to prove that it does contain hooray.

It was very cold that year because of the constant revolution.

One winter night, he walked past her shriveled body.

He said something about the Long March.

45

It even reminds me of a cage.

There are bars all around, and my ribs.

Squeeze and knock

Outside the cage

There is also a high wall

Yesterday's bullet holes are hidden behind today's slogan.

48

Carefully pull it out with tweezers under a magnifying glass.

Finally, use a wet cloth.

Erase this shadow completely

Leaving only an open-mouthed earth

Leaving a ruin.

Between dreaming and waking.

Forty nine

At this time, I can't help but miss the island of desire.

The sunshine in the south is like a tiger.

I was almost bitten by excessive intimacy.

On the night of the typhoon, we were awakened by the whistle of a group of bubbles in the harbor.

I was left in an alley that year.

Woke up to find a rusty mountain city.

50

evil-minded

omnipresent

I'm not talking about bloodthirsty weapons.

Poisonous

The charm and wildness of tattoos.

You think I'm talking about poppies?

5 1

Greedy people are used to nagging.

Speech is nitric acid with natural passion.

A few words will melt you into a pile of silent iron slurry.

silent

It's gold. This is a virus that resists from the inside.

Leeches never talk much except burying their heads in blood.

Fifty two

Trigger effect

Chen Jinxing and a bullet (note)

Break into the towering municipal building through the wall

He has always been excited.

Before the punishment, he became a believer, and after being baptized,

Hide the butcher knife where God can't find it.

Note: 1998, Taiwan Province gangster Chen Jinxing and others kidnapped the daughter of film and television celebrity Bai Bingbing, and wantonly tore up the tickets. During the pursuit, many people were killed, which caused a sensation. It is said that they repented of believing in religion in prison before going to court.

53

The boat of greed has set out again.

A stormy night

Heading for the turbulent turbidity current.

Nietzsche said that man is a muddy river.

I followed his hand and hoped to go.

A gloomy moon is floating on the Danshui River.

54

In the history of smog

Chen Jinxing and Nietzsche fell almost at the same time.

There is a voice of vanity.

They digest death.

And threw up a big piece.

The desolation of life

55

On the way, I met a group of Snow White again.

Yes, it's cold and white

A mockery of savage feminism.

They like cleanliness.

And they are used to the harsh words that the mirror says to them every day.

Do you smell fish on them?

Fifty-six

How sad the obituary in the evening paper is.

It's good to see the names of acquaintances.

It was shocking to hear him yelling at Congress.

He shouted.

He was also beaten.

He spat a mouthful of betel nut into the air, and his face was covered with blood.

57

Then they hurried to the park.

Looking up at a monument standing in the dusk

Sadly, there is a big piece of red on the national flag.

I don't know whose blood this is.

The sunset is silent.

Pull down the widow's face

58

They continued to stir.

Teach the media and learn violent tactics from the media.

On TV, they hit the air with their fists.

When you walk out of the sunset bar, your anger disappears.

There is only one enemy left.

The stock market will crash tomorrow.

59

Island of greed

A sentient and righteous island that makes people want to cry without tears.

The sea, holding its arm is sour.

A scarred island

Earthquakes are majestic and merciful.

Give us a truck full of prosthetic limbs after losing your temper.

60

I finally chose you.

A slender coconut tree, and

A dream hanging high beside the moon

I found some lice in the folds of my clothes.

Full of disgusting blood

I hate waking up.

6 1

The morning toast is spread with gorgeous butter.

Coffee is too sweet and there are too many lies.

I woke up to find that

A tearful speech by a politician.

Use applause.

I grabbed a soap bubble and floated into the distance.

62

I can't help but pay tribute to the ruins again

Seek answers from no answers.

Actually, I came mainly to be grateful.

Thank you for giving me time and shortening my life.

Please allow me to express my gratitude to Mayflies, paramecium, cow dung worms and all the humble people.

Pay tribute to the creatures that exist in divinity.

63

Allow me to bask in the sea.

Salt in the sun

A city-state made of real or imaginary salt.

Sad pier

The roar of salty cavity on the dock, and

Pay tribute to the full words.

64

Pay tribute to the barren and drooping head

Always questioning his face in the mirror.

Cockroaches' unique philosophy of existence

And everything comes from the vicissitudes of life in an instant

hatch

Eternal egg salute

65

Pay tribute to crow's feet

Pay tribute to the tongue, taste buds and gastric ulcer.

In or within the pubic bone.

The fire of lust pays tribute. toilet paper

Pay tribute to the sperm tightly wrapped in toilet paper.

To the Bible.

66

The man in the Bible who is full of food and Oracle.

Pay tribute to octopus

Go to bed and go to the midnight feast.

The body is an absolute value.

When the situation gets out of control, you will hear it.

call out

67

Pay tribute to the dreams of mortals, and also to

Wandering around every corner of the world map

Heroes are eager to pay tribute.

Pay tribute to the tears of idiots, and also to

The lukewarm embryo at the center of the storm.

The last tear of the oil lamp on a cold night

Sixty-eight

Pay tribute to the tears of the snowman

Because it has no reason to cry, it has nothing to cry about.

The snow last year

After this year, I still have nothing.

Without tears, hanging on a dead branch

Refuse to pay tribute to the leaves forced into the stove by the autumn wind

Sixty-nine

Pay tribute to the poor

They came from the fog.

They touched the tombstone and walked forward.

Pay tribute to hunger

Their falling hair.

Much more than the growing rice beam.

70

I'm coming.

Mainly to pay tribute to time.

It makes me consciously exist, and it also makes me consciously die.

I am satisfied with the fact that there is no water in my well.

Even in the ruins

Nor will it subvert my gentle dreams.

(Selected from Genesis Poetry, Taiwan Province Province,No. 128, September 5438+0, 2006, with abridgement).