Blade and Poetry

He walked to the left half of the room, knocked some key points in the model of the Milky Way with his knuckles, and a small planet in the Centaur constellation opened with a snap, and steaming tea rolled down from it, which he took out The cups are right upright.I was dumbfounded.

"Try this. I think my tea mix is ​​good this time." He seemed to have noticed my reaction, motioned me not to stand up to take it, and leaned down with a smile and handed me the black tea cup .

The temperature of the tea is just right, not too hot, it has the unique aroma of black tea leaves, and no sugar has been added—it unexpectedly meets my taste.

The end of the day is probably always tiring.He and I picked up the cups and sipped the tea one after another, and the atmosphere had a very leisurely homely feel.

Through the white mist rising from the teacup, I saw Karajan move his lips.His voice was weary, "Godha worked so hard and completed the "Twelve Suite" composed of twelve poems, but only a few of them have been preserved to this day...a writer, but he just got himself involved in political disputes .Compared to Adrilan, isn’t it better to just write poems and look at the scenery—forget it, Adrilan may not necessarily be very good.”

I seem to feel inexplicable self-mockery from his tone.Is that kind of bitter self-deprecation?I have no idea.

From the first moment I saw him, I knew he was the kind of guy who was the best at keeping his secrets under wraps.

I looked at him with an urge somehow, probably to share a sigh with him, or hug him—though that last thought kind of freaked me out.

His knuckles tapped lightly on the armrest.

"'Fear', 'Jealousy', 'Pain', 'Proud', and 'Confused', I only remember the five songs I have read. 'Confused', as you can see, is still a fragment."

"Goa was involved in the political struggle, so...?"

"Who knows the real reason." Karajan's tone suddenly relaxed. "But people are not involved in the struggle. People are the struggle themselves."

"Then what do you think is the culprit? Is it the regime?" I looked at him straight.

He smiled, and patted one palm lightly on the other: "As expected, you will come to test me, Vicente."

He said: "You know the answer. It's always been people, and there's nothing wrong with regimes. When one regime is axed, a new one emerges. It's herd instinct—it just reinvents itself and becomes something else. Maybe see There is no monarch anymore, but the monarch is everywhere, it is erased as a title, and then transformed into a support for another group. People's needs and desires are not the same."

"You want to say that part of human nature leads to error?" I hesitated.

"Isn't it? That part is like the regime they created by themselves. It can only be avoided and cannot be obliterated. It is inherent."

"But people will not easily stand on the opposite side of themselves. Just like the truth kept in everyone's mind, keep only what they believe in, or what most people want to see."

He joked: "More people's minds belong to the part of the "truth", which has been blank since birth."

"What is forcibly deprived or inserted is not the truth. Simply give a person the truth you see, and he will not recognize it. Who would think who is deceived?"

He didn't refute, he pondered for a moment, stretched out his hand in front of me, palm facing upwards.

"Vicente, what can you see?"

"...a palm?" Or else?The truth of life?

He is persuasive: "Put your hand on it and think again."

Probably because of the porcelain cup that was holding the tea, I felt his palms were slightly hot.

In that second, I thought: only his lake-colored eyes look cold and cold, the golden-red hair like Charon flowers, and the skin I touched at this time... all have warmth .

He seemed to follow my frequency and paused for a second, then he suddenly held my hand and turned it 180 degrees, and slapped my palm neatly.

"Successful!" He showed a kind of concealed complacency that was very inconsistent with his usual image, put his hands back on his lap slowly, and looked at my face and smiled again. "Vicente, don't stare like that. I just think you're tired and need an episode to refresh yourself."

He took from me the paper on which Goya's poem had been copied.For a moment it seemed almost tossed it into the pile of papers on the left side of his room; but he withdrew his hand and put it in the open outer pocket of his suit.

"Do you know? Today is not the first day I see you." He said while refilling tea on the other side of the room.

"Really?" I said, "Well, as it happens, neither am I."

I thought, I saw you on the first day I entered the college. At that time, you were talking to Professor Lane. Next to you was the Charon flower in the corner of the Literature Building. It grew very well and bloomed like a gentle flame.

But I didn't express my thoughts just now, and said in a strange way: "Maybe I passed by many times?"

He sat back and shook his head slightly: "It's not the same thing."

He said: "When I was resting on the lawn in Liberty last summer, I saw a group of little ghosts sitting in a circle by the tree, and they were having a rally in full swing. It seemed that it was the turn of a certain author to ask the source of the anthology, but it was too late. No one has given any definite answers for a long time.”

The free world is the border area between the Academy of Magic and the Academy of Martial Arts, a peaceful area, and the division of students from the two factions is blurred.The Literature Building is also in this area.

I immediately recalled that scene, "Yeah, that answer should be "Twelve". Wait, you remember it?"

"Yes." Karajan smiled, and continued: "I felt that I had almost rested, and when I was about to get up, I saw another kid rushing over. That kind of imposing appearance seemed a bit heroic at first glance, but unfortunately the details Poor workmanship--a paper bird with crooked wings, darting from among the trees, landing in the middle of the circle, with a hastily scraped leaf slanted by its ear.

"People around were laughing in good faith. He rubbed the scrapped paper bird into his arms, pretended to stare fiercely at the people around him a few times. Then he turned around and flicked the leaves beside his ears on his fingertips, It seemed that after the leaf bounced, he became calm and relaxed in an instant, like a little unconscious arrogance, smiling and spit out the correct answer to the person who asked the question."

He shrugged, and his tone changed: "So I have been thinking about the possibility of popularizing the "Twelve Suite" since then. Is your bird okay?"

I suddenly felt very delicate.

"The paper bird is quite unreliable. At the beginning, I made a little magic composition, but the foundation was terrible-even if it flew at the height of the second floor, it might not be able to turn me down with a single upset. It's unbearable to look back, unbearable to look back."

Karajan laughed.

"Okay. I've been keeping you too long, Vicente, I didn't expect—it's going to be dark. Do you have any questions for me? I'll think about it."

I nodded solemnly, observing how he listened: "Do you want me to call you Mr. Karajan, Professor Karajan, or Karajan?"

He tilted his head slightly, staring at me intently.

I feel that through his eyes, I have seen the soul of this man.It holds its breath in the depths, like icy water, but I never saw anything hotter—

"As you like," he said.

"That's Karajan," I told him.

Before leaving, Karajan said: "Vicente, I can no longer teach you about poetry. What I teach is technique, not thought. Therefore, your final assignment will no longer be what you are familiar with—— "Twelve Songs."

I was drinking his refill of tea, accidentally choked on a hasty sip, and looked at him in disbelief. "Are you going to give them The Twelve as a final assignment?"

He made a shush gesture: "Yes. Analysis, imitation and continuation."

He was sitting on the chair opposite me, against the light, his vague outline looked gentle and harmless.

"Don't worry too much. This doesn't mean you don't have homework, but I will choose another related task for you. I haven't thought about it yet, and I will tell you one day in the future." He seemed to think of something, the corner of his mouth Wei Wei picked it up, "I promise it's not some 'existence that beat the students head-on before the end of class'."

I laughed out loud at the thought of my rude words to him that day.

"Karajan, I really like you."

I rubbed my legs that were numb from sitting for a long time, and walked to the door.

"Wait." He suddenly shouted mischievously.I admit that I was indeed intimidated by the sound in extreme relaxation.My legs and feet were stiff and I turned around like an infantry standard, but I saw him with his head down, opening a drawer and rummaging for something.

"How about getting a candy before you go? Come here and have a look." His voice was calm, matching his movements, like a beautiful and smooth piece of music.

The sun was sinking slowly, and as I had guessed at first, the vast star river on the left side of his room gradually appeared to shine in the dim light, slowly merging with the shadows on the right.