A collection of manuscripts of Chen Tingzuo s poems

Mondo Culture Updated on 2024-02-22

In the 40s of the last century, Chen Tingzuo took a photo with his parents in Kaifeng in his childhood.

Compiled by Chen Tingyou based on the author's manuscript on February 17, 2024, during the Spring Festival holiday).

My brother Chen Tingzuo, born on September 19, 1936, died on June 27, 2023, at the age of 88. He went to school in Kaifeng with his parents since he was a child, and returned to Shenxian County, Hebei Province in the spring of 1949. In 1950, he was admitted to the Zhengding Prospecting Engineering Technician Cadre School of the Ministry of Geology and was the first batch of drilling class students. He graduated on April 30, 1953, at the age of 18, and was assigned to the Geological Exploration Brigade. He conducted field drilling in Inner Mongolia, Shanxi and other places, and served as the drilling rig captain. In 1962, not knowing what happened, he actually asked to return to his hometown from Suochun Village, Pingding County, Yangquan, where the drilling team was stationed, to work as a farmer until his death.

My brother was deeply influenced by his father and loved poetry since he was a child. I grew up listening to him explain his poems, and I was particularly impressed by the poems he wrote himself. He was the first person I had ever met who could write poetry, and although there were not many of them, there were nearly 100 of them. He is humble and "inadequate" and does not show people easily. In his later years, he called himself Mo Shangsuo, and came to transcribe Tang poems, Song and Yuan songs, and sent his ambitions with pleasure. He also repeatedly deleted and transcribed his poems. The people of their time used a brush to write a lot, and they were all okay. Therefore, in my eyes, he is both a poet and a calligrapher. The others are gone, but the pen and ink are still there. I have sorted out his manuscripts of his own poems, especially according to the date of creation, and I don't know if they are all of them. If you have the teachers of Xiaolou to braid, it is not only a commemoration of a deceased folk poet and calligrapher, but also an encouragement and support to the family of the deceased, including myself. If more readers read his works and appreciate his calligraphy, my brother would definitely smile with a little shyness and relief in Jiuquan on the anniversary of his death.

In the early 50s of the last century, Chen Tingzuo's ID photo.

Chinese New Year's Eve (1960 in Yinying Village, a suburb of Yangquan City. This poem was sent to his father at home).

Every household is full of red couplets, and when I hear that the village house is happy.

Counting seven years out of the mountain and moon, except for the eight days to this day.

Praise Wu Qingyun (October 1960 in Yangjiazhuang drilling rig factory in the suburbs of Yangquan City).

Slender overalls woman, can be short words unheard.

The eyes are blue in autumn and blue, and the hair is braided and the sky is cloudy.

Didi doesn't smile, and his thin eyebrows are often frowned.

When the red leaves are falling, I don't know whose house is spring.

Remembering Qin'e (Pingding, Shanxi, December 14, 1960).

The years are deep, and the snow mountain has been remembered for eight years. Remembering the present, the old testament is difficult to rely on, and the old hatred is always new.

The sleepless shadow is the most ecstatic, and the autumn water looks through the suspense. The sunset is twilight, and the dusk is approaching.

Like a Dream Ling Sanyun (1961 Pingding Lock Spring Village).

The moon by the pool is bright and sparse willows, and the wind is like wine in three springs. Staring at the door for a long time, the peach blossoms are full of sleeves. Clear sorrow, clear sorrow, spring shirt acacia soaked.

Remnant Yang Apricot Blossom Village, Dongfeng New Grass Short Wall. The spring is brilliant, and it is the courtyard of Yi's former residence. It's a sigh, it's a sigh, it's touching.

The mountain is covered with snow flakes, and the mountain is half without a street courtyard. The sun is oblique and the north wind is wild, and the leafless willow locust is difficult to argue. Bitterly cold, bitterly cold, in and out of the snow and ice.

Chen Tingzuo, Cui Lanfen and their mother.

Ten peach blossoms are prefaced

On April 19, 1961, on the evening of the fifth day of the third month of the year, it was written in Xiguan, Pingding County, Shanxi Province, more than 40 years ago. The content is not good, and it is disordered, and some of it has been deleted today. Mo Shang Nongsu supplement

First, the beautiful beauty comes out of the boudoir, and the red leaf is shy to open while it is warm.

It is not like the idle flowers and plants on the side of the road, and the wind and twilight rain are emotional.

Second, the fat powder is evenly powdered and the face is red, and the small skirt is new and green and dances in the east wind.

Passers-by cast their favored eyes, don't let the little flower accompany you.

3. Suspicion, shame, hatred, suspicion, and suspicion, and the spring sun in March is unlimited.

The short-sleeved new clothes are difficult to hide their faces, and they are holding Xizi Huansha.

Fourth, the flowers love Sanchun, and they often embrace the heart of the sun.

The ruthless is the most clear rain, where to find the body.

Fifth, it seems to be shy and like a cheek, and Fang Xin has never complained to others.

Peach blossoms don't understand the things of the world, why scratch the dream soul on a spring night.

Sixth, the peach blossoms have not withered today, touching the old garden.

On the fifth night of the first day of the twilight and cold, the hazy mountains and the moon are like sickles.

Seventh, the rain and breeze are updated lightly, and it is difficult to paint Danqing is the spirit.

Peach blossoms are the same as spring flowers, where is charming and attractive.

Eighth, five fans fell into the green building, sprinkled to the world of all kinds of sorrow.

A little spring heart will never change, and the green face will be red and white.

Nine, the flowers withered for seven days, and the evening makeup was removed to guard the green light.

No one asked about the boudoir in spring, and the pink face was half red in autumn.

10. The green, dark and red grass penetrates the sand, and the evening peach is first blooming to the sun.

The ignorant village woman is suspicious of spring and wants to take advantage of the east wind to sweep away the flowers.

Mid-Autumn Festival (autumn 1961 in Pingding County, Shanxi).

Nine years of drifting between Sui and Jin, youth will sigh at dusk.

It's the Mid-Autumn Festival night tonight, but it's a pity that the moon is not full.

Spring Sense (February 19, 1962, written during the Spring Festival in Suogong Town, Pingding County).

For no reason, the east wind brings warmth, and the willow branches open with the green glacier.

It's not as common as winter, and the spring color is dyed with nostalgia.

Breaking the Formation (April 19, 1964 on the 29th day of February in the old calendar on North Xingyuan Road).

The willows of the east wind are gentle, and the branches of the tender red apricot trees are tender. Cherish flowers with me and be sick with me, who pities spring and who is sad. The melancholy is hard to contain.

The moon and night are hard to dream, and the flowers are painful to the scene. Ten years of autumn frost reminiscing about the past, and Chunyang touched the old feelings in February. Apricot circle forest trail.

Sigh Nong (1964 National Day of August 26th in the ancient calendar).

The west wind urged the wheat to be busy, and the autumn swallows chirped and the leaves of the jujube were yellow.

The east acres are flawless and unplanted, and the west is limited to turning mud.

There is no money to buy single clothes in the cold, and dried vegetables want to replace grain in waterlogged years.

After ten years of technicians returning to farming, they were afraid of short hunger and long cold.

Homesickness

(In April 1969, migrant workers dug the river, working about 15 hours a day, extremely tired, going up and down to work to read the highest instructions, recite quotations, and do no borders, Jiankang, etc., as strict as a holy decree.) It's ridiculous. Written in Nanliang Wangzhuang, Tianjin).

The weather in the north is cold and the spring returns late, and the catkins fly in the beginning of summer.

The horn blows in the morning, and the trumpet sings the red light in the afternoon.

The frail rest suspects that the car is heavy, and the work is often urged by the supervisor.

Eat for three days, and hold the cake Si'er with tears in his eyes.

Selling pears (September 14, 1971, on the 25th day of the seventh lunar month on the way home from Anping).

Hunger and cold have survived for several years, and who cares about the yellow ripening of autumn crops.

The shoulder straps pulled the cart pears were sold out, and Anping Gu drunk the poor.

Send the fourth brother

The snow melts and warms up for another year, and the thin east wind is not afraid of the cold.

Thousands of pieces of pink on the red apricot wall, and a few heavy smoke outside the green poplar embankment.

Yihong wrote hibiscus bitterly, and Hengwu Xin chanted willow catkins.

Du Yu returned to spring with a bang, and the dream of the guests on Handan Road returned.

Chen Tingzuo, Cui Lanfen and his wife took a group photo.

Bu Operator Ye Ju (September 1973, in the north of Xincun).

In the cold west wind, the autumn nights are long. Withered grass and red leaves are good friends, and the Ming Dynasty is covered with frost.

The rhizome is slender, and the leaves are yellowish when the wind is high. The stars are not enough to be cold and bee-friendly, and there is a lingering fragrance scattered and scattered.

Reminiscences (January 7, 1976, because of the mother's four brothers, I was sad).

The green and dark red dissipated the twilight smoke, and the only one hated the small window.

Qin Taixiao's love is difficult to break, Chu Xiu's dream is not fateful.

Helplessly, the flowers fell, and the familiar swallow returned.

Affectionate only has a deep dream, and the heavy classmates spend the season every year.

Si Daughter Jianxia (June 28, 1980, Gengshen, May 16).

Don't say goodbye to life and death, the room is empty and sad.

He did not enjoy saturation and temperature before his death, and he grew tears and blood after death.

The world is ruthless and alone, and the misfortune in the world is biased towards the father.

Don't come to menstruation and think about it frequently, you can only say it in your dreams.

Mourning for the daughter (Xinyou Duanyang Festival).

Infinite tears come from sorrow, and there is more pity when you think about it.

The eyebrows are frowning all day long, and the sighs are frequent for the year.

Sigh to yourself

Life is not lonely, current affairs, not as good as people, children and children are miserable. The weak crown is ruthlessly married, and it does not confuse and hurt the daughter. The sixtieth loves the grandchildren, praying for a good sunset and a rainy dusk.

Chinese New Year's Eve (February 4, 1981).

Another year in the sound of firecrackers, tears and sorrowful lights.

The sick body is haggard like yesterday, and the innocent knees are like before.

Tears were thrown in the noisy field, and the lonely home was timid.

As the years go by, people get old, and sorrow follows me to Huangquan.

Crying daughter Jianxia

Tearful eyes dawn to Caiyun, and the injury is still new.

The pearl was lost and the jade was broken under the western forest, and there was no spring for a hundred years.

Idle (April 2001).

Once a year, spring after year, people are old and beautiful.

The trees are full of peach blossoms, and the long suburbs are full of wheat and blue clouds.

Laughing at the grandchildren in the courtyard, he was worried about the silver sideburns in the mirror.

Recently, he has rarely done farm work, and he takes a warm nap like a sick person.

Snow

The turbidity and dust can be broken away from the clouds, and the dry willows are windy and sandy.

The autumn rain stains the frost ancient road, and I am innocent all over the Yangguan.

Snow

The north wind escorted down the clouds, silent and silent.

Plain silver makeup is all over the universe, and the world is flying and floating.

Snow

Silently falling into the dust, decorating the world everywhere new.

The glass world is thick at any time, and it is not afraid of scraping silver.

Send the fourth brother (in January 2002, the fourth brother took a photo in front of the Xiangguo Temple in Kaifeng City, and sent one to me).

When he was a child, he lived in Bianzhou with his father, and his fourth brother is now traveling there.

The new photo in front of Xiangguo Temple is not the old archway of the past.

Recall Kaifeng Longting

The main hall is ten zhang high, and it is said that the ancient dragon court of the Song Dynasty.

The stone of the steps is broken and moss, and the jade finish of the railing is uneven.

The old color of the red gate at noon is light and light, and the lake water is turbid and clear.

Since it was burned by the Japanese soldiers, the six palaces were painted in the rubble.

Recall the style of Kaifeng in the spring of 1949

Kaifeng is nicknamed Shacheng, and it is difficult to travel outside the North Pass.

The Yellow River is full of silt and sand on the ancient road, and the grass is wilting and growing on the wall.

The car came to Liudu full of dust, and people went to Chen Qiao to cover the cloth.

It is a pity that after eight years of war, the sand dunes are almost level with the city walls.

Hairpin head wind

The moon is broken, it is difficult to part, and it is a long way to send each other. The willows are like smoke, the mood is chaotic, the peach blossoms are dewy, and the eyes are tearful. Resentment, resentment, resentment.

Murmuring swallows, circling around the eaves, the rain falls and the flowers are all over the courtyard. The clouds are scattered, the gossamer is idle, the firewood is empty, and the red disappears and the green is dark. Hope, hope, hope.

Pear blossoms

In the month of Su'e, the clusters of pear blossoms are full of branches.

The green girl has the love to apply the cream early, and the colorful butterfly is tired and greedy to kiss late.

After the spring rain is clear, the flowers fall in the warm wind and clear snow.

At one time, Shaohua was easy to get old, so it was difficult to write Wing Chun poems.

Entered Beijing on September 7 to pick up medicine (October 12, 2002).

Don't brother Jingji took the medicine back, and the train was flying all the way.

The sunset in the distant mountains is red, and the wheat near the water produces cabbage fat.

The heart is in a trance, and the eyes are looking out the window for a quick return.

After tyrannizing its dusk, he went to Shenzhou for a late dinner.

Scholarship

My younger siblings sent money to help Luoluo pay for her tuition, and Luoluo and I went to the city to withdraw money on July 23. I was so emotional, so I wrote it. Written on September 1st).

The eldest grandson is happy to enter the customs, and although the public assistance is good, it is in vain.

Feeling the sincerity of brotherhood, why do you need to tie the grass and the ring.

On behalf of the deceased son Jiandong Shuhuai (October 25, 2002, November 29, 2002).

The withered forest and withered grass surround the new grave, and he died of illness before he fulfilled his filial piety.

Pity the second old man with white frost sideburns, who will he rely on in the future.

The bleak wind and frost accompanied the lonely grave, who expected to die in middle age.

took pity on the weak wife and washed her face with tears, and vowed to raise her children.

The cold moon and frost shine on the cold soul, and the family memories before his death are still fresh.

It is difficult to give up the balcony into eternal hatred, and the ashes are a dream man.

The lonely soul is ethereal and lonely in the grave, and the lonely goose is miserable and lost in the flock of geese.

The children's sorrowful cries are in their ears, and the weak wife secretly sheds tears.

The world is short and bitter, and the underworld is long and the grass is not spring.

The most painful parents are old, and the white-haired people send the black-haired people.

Mourning the dead

Tears in his eyes slumbered, and tears did not dry in his dreams.

Xiaolai's pillow was moistened with tears, and tears rippled all night.

Tianjingsha Dong'er Wuqi burns paper in the right place for heavy snowfall

In the middle of winter, the snow flies scales, and the new grave wilderness road is slippery. Burning paper and snow melt with tears, the corners of the earth, how to find a child around the knee.

Have mercy on grandchildren

Touching the scene knowing that it increases sadness, wandering lazily near the east house wall.

The grandchildren have pity on them, and they break their bowels when they visit.

A copy of Chen Tingzuo's graduation certificate.

Little Pink (Yuan song on November 23, 2002).

The eldest son is full of tears, and the disease is as ruthless as iron. I am unfortunate in life, sad and earnest, leaving behind the lonely, widowed, old and weak, full of desolation, cold wind and cold moon, and eternal life is endless.

Small pink

The ancient rare people suffered tragically, and they were most annoyed to listen to the palace merchants. The neighborhood is festive and noisy, idle with the light, feigned and happy and sad. Thousands of miles of lamentation, snow and spring sun, two looks.

Small pink

The most bitter thing in life is separation, not to mention that there is no meeting period. I often meet in my dreams. Unsatisfactory, for forty years, he has always been around his knees, in pain, and he is willing to chase his son and find it in the netherworld.

Mourning Dong'er

The lonely soul is attached to the lonely grave, and the lonely goose is miserable and lost the flock of geese.

The sad voices of the children are in their ears, and the weak wives are secretly in tears.

The balcony is short and resentful, and the underworld is long and the grass is not spring.

The most painful parents are old, and the white-haired people send the black-haired people.

Huanxi Sha (vinegar month twenty-one day, winter ninety-seven burnt paper, January 2003).

The flat forest has thin deciduous branches and branches, and the residual wax is a little worried about the wind. After dusk, the cold smoke fades the grass.

It is still doubtful that the snow night is separated by a new dream, and he can be frosty in the morning. The sky is gone, and the water flows from the air.

Chinese New Year's Eve (made on February 4, 2003, the fourth day of the first lunar month).

The courtyard is lonely and the snow is half-gone, and the sunset breaks through the corners.

Chai Fei never sticks to the spring pair, and sweeps the old room to say goodbye to the old night.

Lunar New Year (made on the 4th day of the first lunar month).

Xiang En fell into a dream and was frightened, and opened his eyes to ring the midnight bell.

Looking back on the tragic events of the year, I worked hard until dawn.

Dream (May 4, 2003).

The nine people sleep late and lightly, and the smoke and clouds of the past are layered up.

In the dream, he didn't argue about life and death, and laughed at Jianxia and Jiandong.

Qingming (written on 12 April 2003, 11 March).

Chunyang secretly handed into Boling, and he was frightened by a hundred thoughts.

The courtyard has few footprints and new grass and green, and Liang Wuyan's old nest is empty.

The red heart hides tears because of the fog, and the green willow is afraid of the wind through the cold leaves.

The ups and downs of a life are fate, and I will bring my grandson to cry and sacrifice Qingming.

Dong'er's Anniversary (October 21, 2003, November 20, 2003).

The frost hits the cold chrysanthemum in October, and the scenery is sparse year after year.

The bleak wind swept the ground and the yellow flowers were thin, and the cold rain knocked on the window and dreamed at night.

The courtyard accumulates fallen leaves from the desolation, and people are afraid of idleness because of loneliness.

Stuffy to the small steps around the village road, a trail of remnant sun lock dark smoke.

Editor: Zhang Xuefang, review, Xiaolou listening to the rain, proofreader: Feng Xiao

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