Shuangcheng

Chengcheng's consciousness began to recover, but he didn't wake up. He strangely heard the perfunctory beating of his heart and the flow of blood, the inconceivable gurgling sound, faint and erratic, but hauntingly persistent.

Gurgling, gurgling.

Regular and rhythmic, relentlessly tormenting his fragile nerves.He felt extremely restless, desperate to escape the sound of this maddening sign of life.He raised his arm with difficulty and pulled out the oxygen tube at the end of his nose.

My thoughts about you built a city, and fell under the fire of Yongjue

My longing for you is like a city, burnt on the brimstone and fire of denial

My sorrows for you are piled up and forgotten in endless time

My love for you was built like a city, and in the dark night of despair, it crumbled before the dawn.

Cheng Cheng told Yi Lushen that we live in the Garden of Eden.

At that time, when he said these words, they were sitting in the last month of spring. The fine golden dust and fine tree shadows fell on Yi Lushen's face, mottled his face, and the light and shadow flickered, so close that Cheng Cheng almost wanted to bow his head to kiss.

A group of yellow roses is like a silent nightingale, as if a song can startle them away, they are still waiting for someone worthy of their song, until then they will all sleep.And in the depths of the yellow rose, it's as if someone is playing "Fur Elise" over and over again.The firs and cypresses in the distance, dark green and dull, have merged into the shadow of the mountains.

Cheng Cheng looked at Yi Lushen face to face, his young face was close at hand, and he seemed to have lost his body. Sitting in the golden and green tree canopy, he also saw himself. In the perspective he conceived, they were like old films. The shadow of the memory was eroded by the heavy rain in memory.

Then their joys were superficial, their sorrows like red roses, their lives a sonnet.

He once thought that he would definitely remember this moment in the days to come, but later he only remembered that he had forgotten that moment.

He thinks like this every moment, yet he can't remember every moment.

Perhaps he had forgotten all the time, only remembered that he had thought so.

Let each moment take with it all that it sends. —— Gide, "The Immortal"

And all of this, in retrospect, is a blur, which cannot withstand scrutiny.Like the sticky, empty fragments in the brain of someone who wakes up with a hangover, it's frighteningly meaningless.

At that time, Chengcheng met all the people in his life who would leave him eventually.

Including the moment when he sat in the canopy and looked down, he saw himself.

Li Sisi sat under the apple tree, tearing the red York white rose with his slender and nervous fingers. The dark red juice was wrung out and soaked his pale hands. The life in the flower juice was exposed to the air and quickly oxidized, becoming Rotten brown and decadent, he crumpled up the broken petals and threw them away in disgust.

Life is your art, you make yourself into music, your days are your sonnets. -Oscar Wilde, "The Picture of Dorian Gray"

Li Si seemed to live forever in a musical, with a face that was indistinguishable between male and female, with an opium-intoxicated dazed look on his face, as if he had gone crazy to Ophelia who was about to fall into the river. Chengcheng sometimes had no doubt that he would be like Peaceful and serene as Ophelia, she walked toward death without fear.

Ophelia walked into the river peacefully, her skirt spread out like smoke, holding her floating on the water like a water lily, and went with the river, was it because of her father's death, or because Hamlet never loved she?

How should I your true love know from another one?

Chengcheng still remembers the first time he saw Li Si, he walked over exaggeratedly with a kind of minuet steps, almost jumping lightly, just like Miss Charlotte saw in the magic mirror walking slowly in Cameroon. Lancelot, who was on the ridge, walked across the room in three steps to the window and looked down.

Li Si didn't go to him, but to his world, their world.

Everyone knows the consequences, but everyone will still repeat the same mistakes without hesitation.Once you've glimpsed in the magic mirror what your life's true desires have been, you can no longer be left alone in the Gray Tower.

If I had never seen the sun, I could have endured the darkness.

And the sun just made my loneliness more desolate. --Emily Dickinson, "If I Never Seeed the Sun"

Like some bold see inatrance, seeing all his own mischance.

Like a fearless prophet, in a trance, he foresaw his own doom. - Tennyson, "Charlotte"

The curse came.

Lestat?

No, it's LetheLee, Li Lisi, not Liszt, I can't play the piano, and I'm not a vampire.

Li Si's hand stretched out towards Chengcheng, like a tumbling gray-white pigeon, and Chengcheng held it timidly, as if he was holding a dead bone that protruded from the ground and bloomed like a slender flower bud.Li Si's hands were pale, but his voice was bright red. He answered Chengcheng in an exaggerated and feminine tone, as if he was jumping. The sentences were like bright red roses blooming between his lips and teeth like rose petals, falling down one after another. .

Li Si loves roses. In Sir Alma-Tadema's "Lunch Break", the roses are scattered around the wise men and beautiful boys with Greek foreheads lying on their sides after the banquet. The dead Roman emperor Heliporus from the hall The roses pouring down from the ceiling, and the roses in the vase at the foot of the bed in Courbet's "Sleep".

Fanaticism and composure, sensuality and purity, love and death are beautifully intertwined.

What Chengcheng sees in his face is the rose described by Fontaine Latour, which seems to burn in the dark, glowing like embers, like a symbol of the fate of human beings.

Chengcheng is often worried about Li Si, he is beautiful and flamboyant, but empty.He loves all pompous splendor, like a vain woman, like a narcissus.

leece.he said to him.Some things, even though they are beautiful, have no soul.

But Li Si didn't care about it.

It is an honor to ruin yourself on something poetic. -Oscar Wilde, "The Picture of Dorian Gray"

so what.He laughed.I would like to exchange my soul for eternal youth, I am Faust!

When Cheng Cheng and Yi Lushen were watching "Interview with the Vampire", Lestat endured Louis's departure three times and still hoped that he would return to him, but he didn't know that it hurt too much to bite someone.

But there are still people who long to be bitten by love and take their lives.

It was a spring, a wonderful season, the handover of life and death, in this season it is appropriate to be born or die.New life emerges from the dead bodies of the previous season, infinite vitality is brewing in dead leaves and roots, and all-encompassing death is heralded in new branches and young leaves. The sweet breath hides the subtle and imperceptible decay.

The green leaf is life, but the flower is death.The blooming early spring is a festering eye scar in the four seasons.Death can be beautiful, sometimes even more beautiful than life.

The flowers sprouted and bloomed on his corpse, the luxuriant red, red and white, like the flesh and blood of the newly deceased, bursting and blooming from the thin skin of the tree, rotting gorgeously and charmingly.Both life and death are beautiful in themselves.

Rotten things are often rich and fragrant, and festering places are often as bright as spring flowers.

To live is to die. — Maupassant, "A Beautiful Friend"

As soon as the sun rises, it sets. People grow old from birth. The beginning of life is also the beginning of death. Every day is away from death, and every day is walking towards death.They struggle helplessly between the ecstasy and bewilderment of life and the fear and longing for death.

Originally they didn't have any deep pain, they just felt nothingness, and that nothingness devoured their time.

Long and painful days, long and lonely nights. - Gibran "The Prophet"

Chengcheng's world is too small to accommodate anyone other than him.But his world is also big enough to accommodate the deep green forest, deep blue sea, crimson starry sky, deep red blood, sunshine and flowers, all the colorful colors.

My butterfly has lived in my heart for a long time.

The sea in his heart is surging, the forest is growing wildly, the starry sky is sighing, the blood is rushing, the sun is spreading, the flowers are blooming, the birds are singing, and the heavy rain and snow never stop.

Behold, it is a night of revelry, in the dreary twilight years!A group of fairies with cicada wings, with veils covering their faces and tears streaming down their faces, sat in the theater watching a tragedy of fear and hope.The band played from time to time, the misty and ethereal melody. ...It's just a puppet, rampaging, letting the invisible giant palm pull it up and down.The invisible giant palm changed the scene in an instant, fluttering the vulture's wings, flying down, the disaster was invisible.This play is really colorful, ah!Always keep it in mind, never forget it.The crowd keeps chasing phantoms, reaching out to catch them, forever disappointed, going round and round in circles, always returning to the same place.The plots in the play are mostly fear and crime, and some are crazy. ...The lights dimmed and went out one by one, like a coffin covering a coffin, and the curtain fell like a shower, covering no one, trembling and hopeless.The fairies took off the veil and got up one after another, their faces were pale and their eyes were blank, and they recognized that the tragedy on the stage is called life. ——Edgar Allan Poe, Ligeia <The Conqueror Reptile>

Just like the march of the army of the dead, the last carnival of the condemned, the overwhelming reptiles tore and devoured the clowns on the stage, and the fairy in white was afraid of the scorpion.As if fast-forwarded, the hands of the clock advance rapidly, and the ticking sound is maddening. Looking through the dial, you can see the rusty but desperately turning gears. The bloody roses are sprawling, blooming, burning and withering at a speed visible to the naked eye. Ashes, see the raging flames spread with the reptiles, the world is about to usher in a new dawn of despair, see the gorgeous and gloomy mansions, towering towers, phantoms, ghosts, and see the new dead On a stormy night, the wife sat up from the shroud with a mechanical chugging sound, and opened a pair of eyes that belonged to the love of her life who had passed away for many years.

In the sorrow of death, the surge of life is heard.

Chengcheng has been trapped in this bizarre world of dreams for too long. He heard that the people who came to the rescue were mighty, marching with the sound of war drums and death knells. Indulging in illusions, without repentance.

They were in a cage of silver and ebony, wide enough to seem endless, that a falcon could even spread its wings in it, but they knew they were always in a cage.Everything in life is staged in the cage.

And then, however confined he may be, he still holds forever in his heart the sweet feeling of freedom, and knows that he can leave this prison whenever he likes.

However confined they may be, there is still a sweet feeling of freedom in their hearts, thinking that they can leave this cage whenever they want. - Goethe "The Sorrows of Young Werther"

Chengcheng is often caught in a kind of ultimate contradiction.Sometimes he feels that his life is a done deal, that there is nothing worth fighting for, that there will be no achievement, that there will be no meaning in his life, that he will be nothing for the rest of his life, To achieve nothing, to live a mediocre life, to live a mediocre life, and to die without a name; sometimes I feel that it is not too late, and it is too late to recover, but such thoughts are like birds in the sky and inspirations in my mind Just like many great civilizations of human beings that should have arisen, people can't predict how brilliant they will be, but they won't know, because they have been submerged long before their rise In the dust, never known.

The author has something to say:

My dream in high school has always been to be an Internet celebrity who tweets and pushes songs...

This part is recommended to be eaten with Anna-Varney's The Conqueror Worm II, the version without lyrics.When I heard this song, I felt very shocked, and my hair stood on end. I glanced at the title and realized that Anna was paying tribute to Edgar Allan Poe. Anna has not undergone sex reassignment surgery, but she recognizes her gender as a woman. Her band Sopor?ternus, which means eternal sleep, is composed of her and her shadow band, but she is actually the only member.After getting to know this band, I burst into tears, feeling how similar she is to my Chengcheng, and how superficial my language is compared to her music language.

She must also be very lonely, otherwise how could she make up four shadows to accompany her.

The Chinese translation of Tennyson's long poem "The Lady Charlotte" quoted here is my own translation in the first year of high school. I saw it by accident when I was in the fourth year of junior high school. In the freshman year of high school, I did some random translations by myself, and there are other references later that I did by myself. There must be many problems, but I didn’t refer to the serious translation later, so I put the original text here, and I hope everyone can correct me.

After seeing this poem, I heard a song called ifIdieyoung. Because I didn’t pay much attention to fashion, it was too late when others pushed it to me. At that time, the first thing I thought of was this long poem by Charlotte.

I felt ugly writing at that time...