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乔伊斯的故事-第12章

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 writing was still dangling in the wind。

  I transferred to a wooden door with black painting; this courtyard shaded in some tall buildings around; I walked up the ten stairs from the blue squares brick place which was moistened by the drops of water from the faucet; through the corridor filled with broken tires and wood; pulled out the chains; twist the key gently; hanged the chains in the door and open my door。

  Entered the cluttered room; and putted a few of short…sleeved summer clothing in a black canvas stuffed bag; and exited decidedly。 Because the bedding goods and books were removed by the motorized tricycle home in the last few days; the ground covered with the papers; deflated toothpaste; and this room likes a place after the graduation celebrating。

  “Hi; Joyce; which university will enroll you in?” asked by the proprietress who next to the stairs and washed bed sheets; when I walk down the stairway。

  “I don’t know; maybe no one。” I h*e some chagrin of that university which I entered myself for the examination; it’s too late to feel hopeless chance for an admission latter; I began to hate that university with an unsettled state of mind。

  Many people lost their confidence of their f*orite university; and the annual admission marks always changed; it could be said that maybe our study time was wasted in an unknowing situation; I guessed at random。

  I walked along the Jie Fang road; under the acacia trees I walked to the bus station; the video store was playing a song which called “My good mood” when I had a bad mood; the lyrics followed me closely when I escaped to the store; and then lost when I turned to left from the end of this road; I passed by the intersection of my road and my life。 How can I tell my father about the belated notice? I couldn’t watch his pair eyes full of anxious waiting。

  The houses of Water Conservancy Bureau were leased to the students of Sui country high school; our school use the closed management; but not suit to the lodging。 If you wanted to find a quiet place for you self…study at night; you just need pay 20 Yuan per month for rent; included the water fee and electricity fee。

  Those building opposited to our school gate; many people in this street between the building and gate are students; except of the peddler and pedicab driver; those seventeen or eighteen…year…old high school students who rushed into the campus with stars and left out of the campus with stars。

  I pushed a door open into an alley in one morning which I always remember; a group of girls behind me; one of them came up with me; she walk with me in the morning of the late autumn; she turned and accosted to me with silence; we all want to talk together but no one said some words finally。

Poetry
At the fall of 2004; one of the countless difficulties was the moment which transition from the high school life to the university life; I h*e finished it eventually。 I straightened my waist in the department office and read some poems in teacher’s puter; that moment I liked holding a secret dossiers; I always remembered what poem I read was about some plum flowers from my senior apprentice’s hometown; those flowers like patches of snow。

  Those poems were short and mixed with a few lines words which similar to what I h*e written to my clas*ate (an honest country boy) in high school; these delicate poetries were about our luscious friendships。 And derived from my senior apprentice’s writing experience; I found some forum of poems munication; and muned with the young and older writer; I found more and more place to learn and talked my writing gain; step by step; and I dived in the poetry ocean。

  This unknown secret has been hidden in most intimate place of my heart; my clas*ates still indifferent in the classroom every day; but I h*e changed with the poem; I was not the one who always stayed in the corner of the classroom to see the blackboard and overhead projector; I didn’t mind of the handwriting on the white canvas; this time I h*e not been the one before in the classroom; I h*e changed into a one who h*e more thought about the life in a poetry view; and h*e found my interesting in my daily life。

  In several across…moments I began to write some poem when I remembered my story again; I begin to write my hometown; some memories when I saw mountain people carving stones and making some jingling sounds in evening; in the half way up the mountain。 I wrote about a group of cemeteries and some haunted voices from the far night of a mountain; I began to write in the classroom which was occupied by those trancelike students; I led my thoughts running。

  Mr。 Cheng has praised a senior clas*ate with a passion words in my first Teaching of Writing class; it was a same class at last year; and my senior clas*ate has holding a collection of poems to Mr。 Cheng; and he got a very high academic credit。 That should be the first class; the poet has finished his Teaching of Writing class in the course of this event when he walked from the desk to the podium; and he walked throughout this semester with his book in few minutes。

  This event opened a new shortcut for passing the exam inadvertently; and this new*aker became a school…sponsored poetry magazine editor undoubtedly。 In the first university class we talked about Mr。 Cheng’s opinion ardently and this event made me to remember what I h*e experienced in the past years; I also met some people like him and I call them singer or hymns people。

  I thought the school singers also like the choir in the ivory tower。 I show him my poems; he suggested to post in a poem forum。 And I found lots of people wele me to their poem writing group。 They were so warm…hearted to encourage me; and began to write poems out of hand。

  I h*e not published anything in the school magazine; my poetry writing movement surfaced in an essay petition which was organized by the Chinese Department; in its award…winning exhibition after the petition I win with my poems which called “the Spring of Southern Yunnan”; and I got a book as an award。

  My university was called aristocratic and little students like literature; they always disdain the poet without reason; and I picked up a danger in their mind in this moment of the poems devaluation in China。 Dangerous warning from the mouth of the old man; when I sleep in class and was called awake by my friend (Zhu Xiaoliang); he said: “our teacher talked about you。” Then I heard the words what shock me: “Do not write poetry; I think poetry make people crazy; especially the things what you recently wrote; I do not understand at all。”

  And those words make my clas*ate laugh at me with an official reason; they cannot laughed at me before because they are weak in their thought; and now they can laughed at me by getting help from my teacher finally; although they just garbled some words from my teacher。 I know the example what he cited; such as a Chinese poet Gu Cheng who suicide in his young ages。 。 想看书来

Books
In the last day of March; there was no wind; no water sound; I was single sitting on the chair and facing with the books which were borrowed from the library; it was a long overdue but I really didn’t read some pages; Schopenhauer; Wittgenstein; I began to interested in them; although my friends always advised me to read useful books。

  Quarters empty; blankets and sheets sleep quietly; books row and wait me to read; the only sounds are issued from the keyboard; I would probably to make a month’s reading program; and I should read those new books。 In March; the spring was an arrival; it was overwhelming and from each place; I probably h*e to sweep the sad feelings to a good one; or not to read the ideological monographs; to read more literature and some beautiful poems。

  The winter of Handan city was a reminder for our stranger; in ; 2007 of lunar calendar; I clearly remembered this day; I was chatting and waiting for my printing in Handan railway station; I waited the car which came from another city; I wished the car would e on time; if not; I would never saw my book in this year。 In the last few days of 2007; I was working on my book far from my home; it was near to Chinese New Year; nobody worked in their offices; but I worked in a city for my book and my dream; it was a very big event for me in 2007 to publish a book。

  Near to the moment from the train ticket; I felt the taste of battle; if my book cannot be timely delivered before the train started; I thought it would make me to feel sad。 Whether will I lost this battle in 2007?

  I will win surely。

  Standing on the railway station; in this bustling place; I said to myself that I h*e finished。 Sunny; blue sky; floating clouds; I was warm with those friends help and on the way back home。

  “Your dream nearby; has been with you face to face。” (Holderlin)

  There was a shimmer which has been exposed at the entrance of literature; which was pulling a prophecy of the dawn; since the train head to Zhengzhou station from Handan station; I clearly felt the sun shines on the way。

  “Like firecrackers in the earth”; in this cultivate increasing returns。

  Because this
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