我突然觉得诗人在这个世界上的存在方式成了一件可疑的事情。也许“怀疑”的苗头早已深藏于我的内心,它随时会鬼魅般跳出来。我甚至觉得诗人的现实存在有了某种晦暗性,包括诗人的身份、手艺、精神、创造等等。读完于坚长文《在喧嚣中沉默》,这种感 I suddenly felt that the poet’s presence in this world has become a matter of suspicion. Perhaps “Doubt ” signs already hidden in my heart, it will always ghostly like to jump out. I even think there is a certain obscurity of the poet’s reality, including the poet’s identity, craft, spirit, creation and so on. After reading Kennedy’s essay “in the noisy silence,” this feeling