"You poets!"

that is

Being pretentious and making a fuss over nothing

Chant

Rearrange the words and sentences

Break down a complete sentence into...

Several lines

It's called poetry.

Already?

Damn it

Take a quarter of my heart

They were all persecuted.

arrive"

Chu Yang threw the chalk on the podium and clapped his hands: "I'm done writing, please enjoy."

The entire room fell silent.

Then many people went from silence to anger, and from anger to fury.

Led by Yi Tiesheng, several key members of the poetry society started shouting and cursing.

"Nonsense! Is this what you call poetry?"

"Nonsense! This is blasphemy against literature!"

"You shameless bastard, what do you know about poetry? Get out!"

"..."

Li Qingshu, sitting in the back row, widened her beautiful eyes, wanting to laugh but too embarrassed to do so, managing to make a funny yet adorable expression.

I looked at Chu Yang's flamboyant chalk writing over and over again, and then read the poem I had written to criticize him.

I finally couldn't help but laugh.

The crisp laughter stood out clearly amidst the chorus of insults.

Yi Tiesheng and Gao Shou looked at her, their faces grim.

"So, what do you think of my poem? Not bad, right? Isn't it better than your club president's? To be honest, besides being a photographer, I'm also a modern poet. Please, everyone, don't flatter me." Chu Yang said in a serious tone.

After saying that, he was about to get down.

Yi Tiesheng, his face dark with anger, roared: "Imitating others is like Dong Shi trying to look bad, or the man from Handan trying to learn how to walk like the woman from Handan. It's utter nonsense! You call this shallow stuff poetry? It's laughable!"

Chu Yang paused, then chuckled and asked, "So, what do you think qualifies as poetry?"

Yi Tiesheng stood with his hands behind his back, head held high, and declared emphatically: "So-called modern poetry must be beautiful in every single word between the lines, something worth savoring and endlessly yearning for!"

"Yearning for that quarter of a face?" Chu Yang countered.

Yi Tiesheng paused, then snorted coldly, "Anyway, it's better than your utter nonsense. Ask everyone here, does anyone think your poem is good?"

"It's not important to me," Chu Yang shrugged.

"But since you're not convinced," he changed his tone, "then I'll show you another ten percent of my power."

After speaking, he returned to the podium, picked up the chalk, and began to write.

Everyone was taken aback. Why were they writing again? Were they going to criticize the president's second poem?

But to my astonishment, I discovered that this guy was writing... in English?!

“Some of us get dipped in flat,

some in satin,

Some in gloss.

But every once in a while you find someone who's iridescent,

and when you do,

Nothing will ever be pare.

The six lines of English text left everyone completely bewildered.

They were all Chinese literature majors, and they completely abandoned their English skills after graduation, so they can't understand it now.

Even if they recognize some English words, they only have a superficial understanding and cannot grasp their specific meanings.

So, you've switched to English poetry? How sophisticated!

Chu Yang put down the chalk in his hand and said, "Our modern poetry is essentially an evolution of Western poetry. How can it compare to the nearly thousand years of development of foreigners in just a few decades?"

"Therefore, to learn modern poetry well, we should study more of the works of foreigners and then combine them with our ancient poems to create our own poetry."

"Of course, I think that Chinese translations of English poems are more beautiful than the English ones. That's the essence and charm of the Chinese language."

"You've said a whole bunch of stuff, but what kind of rubbish is this?" Gao Shou retorted, unconvinced.

“Yes, you translate it!” someone chimed in.

At this moment, Li Qingshu, sitting in the back row, seemed to have grasped the artistic conception and couldn't help but think of the "Qing Yu An" that she had translated into English before.

Her eyes immediately lit up, and her gaze toward Chu Yang revealed anticipation and infatuation.

Chu Yang glanced at Gao Shou and slowly spoke:

"Some people live in high-rise buildings, while others live in deep ditches."

Some shine brightly, while others are covered in rust.

There are countless kinds of people in the world; don't force things that are fleeting like clouds.

"A person is like a rainbow; you only know they exist when you encounter them."

The entire room fell silent once again.

"A person is like a rainbow; you only know they exist when you meet them..." Some people repeatedly recite this line.

"This poem... is so beautiful!"

"Full of rhythm, full of beauty!"

"And it's so meaningful!"

"Wonderful..."

Suddenly, several rounds of applause rang out, and soon the applause grew louder and louder.

It is evident that Chu Yang's bilingual poem has gained the approval of most people.

Some even believe that it is far superior to the president's work.

I can't understand the English, but the translated Chinese is absolutely amazing!

What is connotation, what is imagery, what is lyrical romance? This poem embodies it all.

At this moment, Yi Tiesheng and Gao Shou's expressions turned extremely ugly. They wanted to criticize the poem but didn't know where to begin.

Chu Yang bowed slightly to the audience, then walked down and sat next to Li Qingshu.

But then she saw tears glistening in the young lady's beautiful eyes as she murmured to herself, "This person is like a rainbow; you only know they exist when you meet them..."

She looked at Chu Yang: "Is this... addressed to me?"

"It's already quite obvious, isn't it?" Chu Yang smiled slightly.

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