To Phoebe on a Starry Night

Author: Zhou Shi
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: Walking the path of tears, walking the path of tears forward. The wind from Beihai blows strong, naturally distant lights flicker above the snow-capped mountains. That is spring in my heart, like a dream, forever fresh. Looking at the photos Phoebe sent, I wrote this impulsively. The tone of the photos is still blue. It seems she loves blue. The trees nearby are black, black as a line. The distant mountains transition from blue to white. It feels as if the wind is coming, brushing past, coming without a trace, leaving without a trace. Watching the sky change from blue to black, the lights flicker, distant. That white gradually forms a majestic snow mountain in my heart. Beyond the snow mountain is spring, carrying green, boundless and endless. I don’t like breaking the lines like this—I mean in this poem—but I did it anyway. For me, at least in form, this poem can be said to be a betrayal. If writing can rebel against oneself, then it is truly writing, I think. According to my current understanding, if you want to write truly, you must really have a spirit of blind courage. Not fearing being banished from Eden by God may give you a chance to eat the forbidden fruit. I’ve already eaten a few forbidden fruits, like the poem "Sex Is Higher Than Heaven," which was published in Taiwan last year. I’m not sure how readers will view it. Those who can understand won’t be many. People are afraid of eating the forbidden fruit. Even if it’s placed in their mouths, they won’t dare to take a bite. Thinking of this, I’m reminded of the traitors. The feeling of betrayal must be very stimulating—both nervous and uneasy, while also harboring a yearning, a yearning for what comes after betrayal, and excitement after the yearning. Am I being a bit psychologically when I think this way about traitors?