Tagesarchive: 25. August 2025

在香港，我第一次能用自己的节奏走路、说话、存在。叮叮车的铃声与沉默，让我听见这座城市的温柔与缝隙，太平山顶的灯火与亲人的饭桌，则给我一个静静呼吸的空间。这不是旅程，是一首写给文明节奏的回声诗。In Hong Kong, I finally walked and breathed in my own rhythm.The Ding Ding Tram carried not just sounds, but silence and softness—while atop Victoria Peak and around the dinner table,family gathered like a quiet poem.This was not a trip, but a resonant echo of rhythm and belonging.

我不是旅客，我是诗的携带者。从节奏错置的苏州南站出发，我在复兴号第二节车厢播放自己谱写的《离骚》《天问》《九歌》，不是给人听，而是让高铁听。途经黄山、景德镇、赣州，我将诗句贴进铁轨与站台的缝隙里，最终在广州东站与血脉相认。这不是一次旅行，是一场节奏文明的南行修复。I am not a traveler; I am a bearer of poems. Setting out from the rhythm-misaligned Suzhou South Station, I played my own settings of “Li Sao,” “Tian Wen,” and “Jiu Ge” in the second carriage of a Fuxing train— not for people to hear, but for the high-speed rail to listen. Passing Huangshan, Jingdezhen, and Ganzhou, I tucked lines of verse into the seams of rails and platforms, and at last, at Guangzhou East, I met my bloodline. This was not a journey; it was a southbound repair of Rhythm Civilization.