读书十月一日夜,通宵读已故青年作家孙世祥之《神史》,百万字,读得挣扎而纠结,像针尖刺进胸膛,天空里布满了河流。二十年深夜读书,醒也读,醉也读;数千万字心中走,王侯将相,王谢燕飞。十年不曾写诗,那些白色、绿色、红色、黑色的诗歌。如果言不由衷,总觉得糟践了文字。 Reading October 1 night, read the late Qing Dynasty writer Sun Shixiang’s “history of the gods”, millions of words, read struggling and tangled, like a needle piercing the chest, the sky filled with rivers. Twenty years studying late, awake also read, drunk also read; tens of millions of words to go heart, princes will phase, the king Xie Yanfei. Ten years did not write poetry, those white, green, red, black poetry. If you insult, always feel bad words.