Wild Grass - (Illustrated Edition)

Author: Lu Xun / Country:
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: This is the author's prose poem collection, including more than ten works created in the 1920s, with language that is witty, unique, and magnificent. The book contains 23 prose poems written by Lu Xun in Beijing from September 1924 to April 1926, as well as his preface written in 1927 when compiling the collection. Wild Grass is characterized by serious self-examination and relentless intellectual exploration. Its artistic features are distinct—symbolism and metaphor, rich imagination, and extraordinary composition. The artists Qiu Sha and Wang Weiqun devoted their lives to using their brushes to "reveal Lu Xun's ideological system," persistently exploring, meticulously planning, and boldly creating, thereby recreating Lu Xun's world with "precise reasoning, profound expression, and exquisite artistry."
When I am silent, I feel fulfilled; when I speak, I simultaneously feel empty. The past life has already died. I rejoice in this death because through it I know it once existed. The life that has died has decayed. I rejoice in this decay because through it I know it was not empty. The mud of life is cast on the ground, not growing into towering trees, but only wild grass—this is my fault. Wild grass has shallow roots and unattractive flowers and leaves, yet it absorbs dew, water, and the blood and flesh of the dead, each struggling for survival. When it survives, it will still be trampled and cut down, until it dies and decays. But I remain calm and joyful. I will laugh, I will sing. I love my wild grass, but I detest this ground decorated with it. The underground fire runs and surges; once the lava erupts, it will burn everything—the wild grass and the towering trees—leaving nothing to decay. But I remain calm and joyful. I will laugh, I will sing. The universe is so still, that I cannot laugh or sing. Even if the universe is not so still, I may still be unable to. With this bunch of wild grass, at the intersection of light and darkness, life and death, past and future, I offer testimony before friends and enemies, humans and beasts, lovers and the unloved. For myself, for friends and enemies, for humans and beasts, for lovers and the unloved, I hope the death and decay of this wild grass will come swiftly. Otherwise, I have never truly lived, which is even more unfortunate than death and decay. Farewell, wild grass, along with my preface! On April 26, 1927, Lu Xun wrote this at the Baiyun Pavilion in Guangzhou. P1-2