昌 耀

    Chang Yao (1936 ~ 21300), also known as Wang Changyao。His ancestral home is Wang Jiaping, Sanyanggang Town, Taoyuan County. He was born on June 27, 1936, in Yuying Street, Changde City。Influenced by revolution since childhood, determined to serve the country。His uncle, Wang Qi-mei, and his father, Wang Qi-gui, joined the revolution as students。As a teenager, Changyao moved to Changde and Taoyuan to study。In April 1950, the Political Department of the 114th Division of the 38th Army of the Chinese People's Liberation Army recruited young students in Taoyuan County. Chang Yao signed up without his parents' knowledge and was admitted to become a literary and art soldier。On the eve of the army's departure to Liaodong, the mother found a place to live, only to say goodbye to her son who was determined to go and pretend to be "asleep and not wake up"。Unexpectedly, this race became a secret, the next year mother died。Changyao for not to mother "say goodbye" and regret for life。

    Changyao set out from Taoyuan, with the army to the north, in Liaoning Tieling 38 army left behind the "political and cultural brigade to learn", so opened his full of bumpy and legendary life prelude。In the spring of 1951, he went to Korea to fight。During this period, Changyao returned to China twice to participate in cultural training。In 1952, he published the essay "Human Bridge" in Shanghai's "Cultural Learning", and the poet claimed to have "started my cultural journey" since then.。In June 1953, Chang Yao was seriously injured in a battle near Wonsan, North Korea. He returned to China for treatment and completed high school at the Hebei Military Academy。In 1955, he came to Qinghai not only in response to the call of "developing the Great Northwest", but also out of the longing for the exotic atmosphere of western China, and of course, the hope for the future of his poetry。He was placed in the Qinghai trading company as a secretary, spare time to engage in poetry。In 1956, he was transferred to the Qinghai Provincial Federation of Literature as a writer, and participated in the founding of the literary magazine "Qinghai Lake" and served as an editor。1957年，Experience life in Guide township, Qinghai Province，Compose two short poems of "Test Flute in Forest" for exploration team members，Accused of "anti-party poison" as a rightist，Successively in Huangyuan，Shallow mountain and other places labor reform，Then because he wrote nearly 10,000 words of "defense" full of anger and hope, he was thrown into Xining prison for additional crimes。In 1959, Changyao was exiled to a labor camp deep in the Qilian Mountains, where the poet spent 20 long and painful years。

    In 1979, his injustice was cleared, Chang Yao returned to the editorial department of Qinghai Lake, and he returned to the poetry circle with a song "To Friends" : "The road to death/I am coming/skinny/high/or that nasty head.。When the poet looked back on this incident in his later years, he criticized the "political murder" of a young man who had enthusiastically gone to the melting pot of the Great Northwest due to the narrowness of the "anti-rightist strong men" and made a mockery of justice。He confessed: "I have been a person with a 'political complex' since the beginning of my creation。At a time when people tend to be economic men and downplay political consciousness, while I still enjoy the "Castro integrity," the "Israeli commune," the "classical scheme of the sickle and axe," I suspect that I am born a "leftist."。The rest of his life after the disaster, Changyao made every effort to mine the artistic mineral deposits long deposited in the depths of his emotions, and successively launched a series of poems such as Cihang, Mountain Journey, Row, Row, Fathers, River Bed, etc., which were like a sudden rise, shaking the poetry world and shocking readers。His published works include Chang Yao's Lyric Poems, Emotional Course, The Structure of Og, Chang Yao's Poems and a Collection of Chang Yao's Poems.。Chang Yao's works have a fresh and vivid portrayal of reality, but also a romanticism similar to Whitman's passionate shout。But more like "Empty Castle", with almost realistic methods to express their own spiritual world。His poems leave a deep impression on people with their imagination and language。The overall style of his poems shows the harmonious unity of cold, solemn, warm and strange。In February 2000, the Poetry Society of China awarded Chang Yao the first "Xiaxin Cup" Poet Award。Changyao, a saint living in the spiritual west, is an excellent poet active in the poetry world in the late 20th century。The poet Zhu Yong wrote in "Changyao does not Die" : "In the day he is a noble that cannot be buried by crazy sand, in the moonlight he is a sad that swims endlessly like a hawk," he is "like a sensitive goscarlet, looking for his own glide path, completely ignoring the pulse of the outside world.。In any case, prosperity is one of the wonders of the twentieth century."。Poet Han Zuorong wrote that Chang Yao is "the poet of poets", "his works are not inferior even when compared with the first-class poets in the world".。

    23 March 2000.After battling lung adenocarcinoma for months, Chang Yao fell from the Qinghai Provincial People's Hospital in his own unique way to fulfill his wish to return to his mother's arms。In the spring of 1980, the poet returned to his hometown of Sanyanggang town, Taoyuan County, after 30 years of absence, and met his sister, who was only one year old when he left home, and told him that he wanted to return to his hometown。Later, in "The memory of the Umbrella" shows the poet's deep attachment to his hometown: "Thirty years a smile, there is a breeze blowing wet red dust;/ Clogs come back, / Like an umbrella slanted to me。Dream summer has been frost several times, and this lotus leaf always floating in the heart tide/always green。After Changyao's death, his family followed his will。To bury his ashes at his home beside his mother。

Works of Chang Yao

To cultivation bamboo grove

Bamboo: I never loved so much,
That's why you think this love makes your life so tired？
That's why you say the lion's love is beautiful？
I am also tired, feel severe, do not have dull pain,
But without your love I shall be vulgar again。
My eyes are dim and pastoral,
I'll shower you with water。You are too weak。
You smoothed my brow with your warm heart,
Told me kissing was good for beauty。
And I sat up again, and the light of the earth flared like a candle,
As if we were the subjects of the sacrifice,
I feel that I am assuming the solemnity of a sacrifice。
Yes, I may go quietly to death,
If death is my last consolation。
Love is the window Windows gazing at each other at both ends of the street.
When one party signals that they have no intention of answering, expectations are futile。
I have many anxieties, afraid of the dead city in the desert。
So I untie your braids and wrap my arms around you,
Like a bird on the arm that can fly away at any moment,
And with my succulent gaze pouring into your lake sockets,
Until the beauty of the setting sun after a long time。
You, O bamboo, know how big the future is and how deep the valley is,
Why should we rush to meet again？
Since then I have been sad and happy, for you become so haggard and play bad。
Oh, forgive me for wanting to bind you with love: such a tyrant。
Only such tyrants。