In my dream, I laid plum blossoms on Lin Zhao's grave. A single bullet that's worth 5 cents in her time ended her life. It also began her legend.
Alive, she had already been known to bite more than a bullet, idiomatically speaking. For a young woman, that's a lot. Still, she was living a bright dream in a dark age, even though she never expected that life would be easy for a dissident. However, she hardly expected that life could be so dim, so short, and gunpoint so flashy, so close.
It is, perhaps, above my paygrade to fathom her ocean otherwise known as her deep conviction that rivaled Joan of Arc's. Indeed, her open admirers couldn't wait to put a halo around her, posthumously. To worship her like China's Joan of Arc, in my humble opinion, is to deny her the mortal she was and she loved to be. Don't forget that, in her own writings, she had made no bones about her staunch opposition to deification of a certain "beloved leader." She impresses me as a humanitarian through and through. Let her be a proud member of humanity, which she was and, in a sense, still is.
Humanitarianism, a product of the Age of Enlightenment, reached the shores of China in the second half of the 19th Century. It had grown in strength and popularity among Chinese intellectuals ever since--until it suffered a violent near-death just when Lin Zhao was soul-searching as an internal exile in the red desert, thanks to the Great Cultural Revolution. A born-again humanitarian, she re-examined everything her ancient country had to offer. Finally and critically, she zeroed in on civil society or rather the lack of it. She was no armchair philosopher. She was bleeding in a prison cell. She bled so that she could write in blood when ink was hard to come by. Today, miraculously, we can read her words. We may even be able to read her mind.
原创七律
敢正乾坤敢守真，自由魂出死囚身。
独鸣夜海啁啾晓，交响冬原霹雳春。
惊蛰风传龙在野，幽居梦见凤归尘。
江山血泪中华墨，洒满芳碑一字仁。
*平水韵上平十一真
LYJiang
-----------------------------------------
In my dream, I laid plum blossoms on Lin Zhao's grave. A single bullet that's worth 5 cents in her time ended her life. It also began her legend.
Alive, she had already been known to bite more than a bullet, idiomatically speaking. For a young woman, that's a lot. Still, she was living a bright dream in a dark age, even though she never expected that life would be easy for a dissident. However, she hardly expected that life could be so dim, so short, and gunpoint so flashy, so close.
It is, perhaps, above my paygrade to fathom her ocean otherwise known as her deep conviction that rivaled Joan of Arc's. Indeed, her open admirers couldn't wait to put a halo around her, posthumously. To worship her like China's Joan of Arc, in my humble opinion, is to deny her the mortal she was and she loved to be. Don't forget that, in her own writings, she had made no bones about her staunch opposition to deification of a certain "beloved leader." She impresses me as a humanitarian through and through. Let her be a proud member of humanity, which she was and, in a sense, still is.
Humanitarianism, a product of the Age of Enlightenment, reached the shores of China in the second half of the 19th Century. It had grown in strength and popularity among Chinese intellectuals ever since--until it suffered a violent near-death just when Lin Zhao was soul-searching as an internal exile in the red desert, thanks to the Great Cultural Revolution. A born-again humanitarian, she re-examined everything her ancient country had to offer. Finally and critically, she zeroed in on civil society or rather the lack of it. She was no armchair philosopher. She was bleeding in a prison cell. She bled so that she could write in blood when ink was hard to come by. Today, miraculously, we can read her words. We may even be able to read her mind.
--- Lingyang Jiang
🔥 最新回帖
【诗人林昭】
文/天玉之
她说她是个
奉着十字架作战的
自由志士
我说, 她是个真正的诗人
用生命沾着鲜血
写了一首千古绝句
去吧, 去读她这首诗
如果你的灵魂
还不为之颤抖
那就从此告别笔笺
2016.4.29
* 【尋找林昭的靈魂】陽光華語紀錄片獎(2011) 長片組 - 金獎
http://youtu.be/sLoGhCjFhbk
林昭的纪录片是导演倾其所有拍摄的，过程十分艰难，阻力重重，至今不能公映。这个纪录片拍得非常好，里面有很多文革的真实历史镜头，震撼心灵，建议去看。我的上面这首诗就是观后写的。
只应社稷公氓庶，哪许山河私帝王：林昭绝命诗九首
http://mp.weixin.qq.com/s?__biz=MzI3MDA0NDUwNw==&mid=2653533607&idx=3&sn=2efa26ca419fff30afe6cdaf4da9225c&scene=1&srcid=0430QbnI1noNJxp5XmPvVFBm&from=singlemessage&isappinstalled=0#wechat_redirect
🛋️ 沙发板凳
Wish I could just give a thumbs up & walk away,,,
But it was too tragic and beautiful to walk away....
I remember the first time & over the years reading her lifestories,,,,
Thank you for bringing her memories back,,,,
Just would like to spend more time reading the Chinese part,,,,
Thank you-:))........
Traditional poetry-stands out for pureness of the heart&passion and single-mindedness for truth at a tragic cost-
The Azaleas....
I am not sure if this is the exact flowers as they were back in China where i grew up-,
But i do remember seeing the exact flowers st my friend's house in S.C . when we had a reunion years ago.
Her families are all from China-,
&no strangers to the symbolism that carries with this particular garden friend-:))..
Garden Spirits-:)).....
helping the World during the Second World War inspired many..
The Dolittle Squad..
I remember reading from a lifestory of Dolittle-
That he played piano during the nights from the raids.....-his days in the Far East-:))....
https://bbs.wenxuecity.com/mysj/231139.html
你继续写。我明天早上再来接龙。这个游戏好玩。我喜欢！
晚安
My friend's mom, a soft - spoken lady,scientist & singer,
grew those flowers & the first video was as close as I can remember her ^
she graduated from medical school in China in the fifties,
& lived in the U.S. since the early eighties,
Your writings brought back memories of her & her beloved flowers/ shrubs,
the A z la eas, her friends,
the first thing I noticed when we had our reuions in S. C. . ^
My friends mom was about the same age as Your heroine,
Lin Zhao, ^,,,
she passed away about 7 years ago in S. C.,
My friend 's family still keep the house& in the garden,
there -
still grow the Spirits ~.
I was moved to recall the color & smell of the Shrubs,,
Az al eas had been with me since the days I was born & when I
met with my friend and her family again,
the first thing that struck with me are her parents & the shrubs in S. C.,
I was in tears when I read your piece,
both my friend's parents were graduates from colleges in China in the fifties,,,
Your piece was a Heven - sent gift to remember her,my friend's mom ~ ~,,,,
Thank you,& best regards to your family too ~,,,,,,,,
The Chinese poem is very nice. I like the last sentence: 江山血泪中华墨，洒满芳碑一字仁. 仁, or 仁慈 is the essence of humanitaranism.
I really enjoyed your eloquent Eglish essay as well!
https://blog.wenxuecity.com/myblog/76564/202105/18443.html
自由魂出死囚身 这个出稍平，不妨为破