(转载注明来源于www.zgxdwh.com：中國現代文化网 郭龍）
记着十二年前, 诗人洛夫在一封信里说“也许苦难正是支持你创作的动力”,其实我只是以诗为命著,.。诗永远是我最单纯最慰勉的未来, 一首诗是生命树上的奇迹：一个果, 或鸟。 感谢自己，竟没有在黑暗的河流上丢失自我, 因此也不需要寻找自我。我本来就是依恃自己的傲骨与倔强,从惊涛骇浪中挣扎登岸的。生活没有给过我机遇,我也从来没有等待过。被水冲击的伤口,白得像雪,愈了又被水冲击着,生命本身是苍白的,创造的血才使它红润。创造是什么呢？创造就是时间千金一刻存在的价值，就是肯定自己,就是不弃权，就是即使在苦难中也要努力争取走在人类智慧的最前列！当我还是一个孩子的时候, 当我一有了知觉, 为东方这块美丽又苦难的土地而伤心泪下的时候，脚上响着铃声的Venus 哟, 我听得清你在时间隔水的岸边对我的遥远呼唤！
文学是一门独立艺术，任何国家的文学史，都是以作家的創作文本为根基的。一个优秀的民族势必有有优秀的文化。民族的复兴首先是文化科学的复兴。“我们, 作家们, 我们向迟到的人们发出了集合的钟声, 可是我们并没有等待他们, 让他们向我们归队吧, 前进的行列是永远不会停顿的。”（ Roiiand Romain《我为谁而写作》）何况现代诗的艺术创造, 不啻是在能够自觉地以审美的意象语言或人文构思再现‘自然经验’中的实景。
我尝欢喜独自在无人的荒野奔走, 为读月出, 为译风清, 为寻找崖石的松径上渐次飘零的鸟声。虽然我每走一步,都感到一种夜的崎岖,夜的陌生与心惊！虽然那时我也忘了归路,不知道去处是哪片云。这本集子里的文字, 遂是自己散淡心境时的无语凝噎。譬如朝露,譬如野生的葡萄, 避去了人工的架子, 只扎根在大自然纯朴的土地。,
似曾相识的， 一百年后在遥远的灯光下或者旷野的曙色里读着我的诗篇的读者啊, 让我们起来, 磨砺，走向成熟，成为执著而有力量的人！
我想起南郊子夜的单人宿舍里 一个米黄色的小木箱上, 伊为我於透明的描图纸上誊写诗稿的真诚,想起冯至前辈病中为我批阅诗册、补缀目录、谢冕教授吴奔星教授拳拳作序, 家父署签及前辈诗人卞之琳徐迟王晨牧吕亮耕罗道生, 画家莫逊人李桦来楚生及翻译家邓仁晖诸师谆谆教导我的情景, 容我许多年后才说声感谢 , 他们遂成为我头顶上未泯的星光, 使我不惮在荆棘与艰难的黑夜中趱程。
又2017,4,27日在上海姐家才偶尔读到科学网—唯美 - 李淼的博文《2007,8,3, 14:4刋发》.李淼教授心细胆大，居然将我名字泊在王维-李白-戴望舒后面（这是千年远洋的船帆？）, 令我惭愧又荣耀。结集时，恕我凿壁偷光, 从未谋面也未经同意, 就擅自置《唯美》大作於卷首了。歉。
是为跋。
郭 龙
2190821，於TBILSI.，高加索南麓
Postscript to the new edition of "The Wind and Wind Draft of Wild
Grapes" (revised on May 24, 2017)
Remember that twelve years ago, the poet Love
said in a letter that "maybe suffering is the motivation to support your
creation." In fact, I only live by poetry. Poetry will always be my
simplest and most comforting future. Poetry is a miracle on the tree of life: a
fruit, or a bird. Thank you for not losing yourself on the dark river, so there
is no need to find yourself. I used to rely on my arrogance and stubbornness,
struggling to land from the stormy sea. Life has never given me opportunities,
and I have never waited. The wound hit by water is as white as snow, and when
it healed, it is hit by water again. Life itself is pale, and the blood created
makes it ruddy. What is creation? Creation is the value of time and money,
which is to affirm oneself, not to abstain, and to strive to be at the
forefront of human wisdom even in the midst of suffering! When I was a child,
when I felt sorrow and tears for this beautiful and miserable land in the East,
Venus with a bell ringing on my feet, I can hear you clearly in the water. The
shore calls to me far away!
Literature is an independent art. The literary
history of any country is based on the author's text.
An excellent nation is bound to have an
excellent culture. The revival of the nation is first of all the revival of
culture and science. "We, writers, we sounded the assembly bells to the
people who were late, but we did not wait for them, let them return to us, the
march forward will never stop." (Roiiand Romain "Who Am I For?"
"Writing") What's more, the artistic creation of modern poetry is
nothing more than the ability to consciously reproduce the real scene in
the'natural experience' with aesthetic imagery language or humanistic concepts.
I tasted joyful running alone in the deserted wilderness, for reading the moon,
for translating the wind, and for looking for the sound of birds drifting on
the pine path of cliffs and rocks. Although every step I take, I feel the
ruggedness of the night, the strangeness and fright of the night! Although I
also forgot to return at that time, I don't know which cloud I was going to.
The words in this book are silently choking when I lose my mood. For example,
the morning dew, such as wild grapes, avoids artificial shelves, and only takes
root in nature's pristine land. ,
Deja vu, readers who read my poems in the
distant light or in the dawn of a hundred years later, let us rise, sharpen,
mature, and become intelligent and powerful people!
I think of a small beige wooden box in the
single dormitory at midnight in the southern suburbs, Yiyi has sincerely
transcribed poems on transparent tracing paper for me, and think of senior Feng
Zhi's review of poems and catalogues for me during his illness, and Professor
Xie Mian. Professor Wu Benxing wrote a preface to the boxing fist, signed by
his father and the predecessor poet Bian Zhilin Xu Chi, Wang Chenmu, Lu
Lianggeng Luo Daosheng, the painter Li Hua, the painter Mo Xun, came to
Chusheng, and the translator Deng Renhui. Then they became the unfading stars
above my head, so that I would not worry about the thorns and the difficult
night.
On
April 27th, 2017, I occasionally read the Science Net-Aestheticism-Li Miao's
blog post "2007,8,3, 14:4 published". Professor Li Miao was so
careful and bold that he actually gave me my name Behind Wang Wei-Li Bai-Dai
Wangshu (this is the sail of a thousand-year-old ocean?), I am ashamed and
honored. At the time of the collection, forgive me for stealing all the light.
I never met or agreed, so I put the masterpiece "Aestheticism" at the
beginning of the book. apologize.
It is
for the postscript.
Kuo
Long
2190821, at TBILSI., the southern foot of
the Caucasus
