以为是这样的:每个人都逃不过写诗的年纪。关于诗歌的最初记忆,是背“云淡风清近午天”(《千家诗》的开篇首句),那是在小学。后来,读《红楼梦》,仿效着书中人物结社写诗,那是在中学。再后来,读了大学,念了中文系,周围看诗作诗的朋友多起来。诗歌便时而成为一种严肃的情感发泄,时而又变作一种无聊的文字游戏。回想当初那些让自己感动的文字,还留下多少呢?多乎哉?不多矣。波德莱尔的《恶之花》,当年读完之后有学习法文的冲动,如今已被束之高阁,懒得去翻。这回特地取下,却是习惯性地翻到版权页,那 The idea is this: Everyone can’t escape the age of poetry. The first memory of poetry is the back of “Yuan Feng Feng Qing Wu Tian Tian” (the opening sentence of Qian Zhi Shi), which is in elementary school. Later, I read “Dream of Red Mansions” and imitated the poetry written by people in the book. It was in middle school. Later, when I read the university and read the Chinese language, my friends around the poems were more numerous. Poetry has sometimes become a serious emotional vent, and has since turned into a boring word game. Looking back at the original words that touched me, how much is left? Baudelaire’s “Flower of Evil”, after reading the book, had the urge to learn French, and now it has been put on a shelf, too lazy to flip. This time it was removed, but it was customary to turn to the copyright page.