Feng Xiang

Feng Xiang

Feng Xiang was appointed Vice Minister of the Propaganda Department of the county Party committee of Beichuan Qiang Autonomous County on June 11, 2008. His 8-year-old son was killed in the May 12 earthquake in 2008. Holding back his great sadness, Feng Xiang devoted himself to the work of earthquake relief and made outstanding contributions to the earthquake relief of Beichuan. He was promoted to Vice Minister of the Propaganda Department of the county Party committee, and was organized and arranged in December 2008 I went to Jinggangshan to participate in the "theme training for post disaster reconstruction cadres" and gave psychological comfort.

Major events

Beichuan Qiang Autonomous County in Sichuan Province is the only Qiang Autonomous County in China. In 2008 "5.12" Wenchuan earthquake, suffered the disaster of covering the city, nearly 20000 people were killed. Feng Xiang's 7-year-old son was also killed in the earthquake. People familiar with him said that in the past year, Feng Xiang has not been able to get out of the shadow of the pain of losing his son.

On the Qingming Festival in 2009, Feng Xiang went to the disaster area to sacrifice his son. He lit incense for his son before he could see the cordon of his building. The first day of February in 2009 is the eighth birthday of his son Feng Hanmo. Feng Xiang gave his son a cake and a photo album recording his son's growth, all of which were placed on a few big stones. Feng Xiang often sat on the big stone, as if accompanied by his son.

Poetry works

Looking forward to hometown, you can see sadness, you can see yearning, but you can't see hometown

(1)

In the twilight

The rain in plum season accompanies me

Wangxiangtai, I'm standing here

Although I can see my hometown from here

But I can't touch the desolation of my hometown with my hand

My hometown died that may afternoon

The bleeding sun in the sky

It's the last eyelid of death in my hometown

Jianjiang piled up into a high barrier lake

It's the last tear left by my hometown

My beloved son Hanmo

With seven years of innocence

Mount the altar for the death of hometown

For me, is he dead or alive

After all, it's my mystery every night

(2)

My hometown died in the late spring when the flowers were blooming

My colleagues

Crawling in every ruin

Since you can't leave your hometown, hold on tight

Flowers in ruins next year

There must be their eyelashes

Floating on every bud

My hometown died in that sad valley

A grave made of stone and dust

My students have 24 cold names

Thinking of spring as a young body

Under the tall buildings in the valley

Your bones are gone and your dreams are immortal

(3)

In fact, my hometown has already died in my blood

The pain of bone marrow awakens the birdsong in early spring

Wangxiangtai is nothing but Beichuan people

A mat of pain and memory

Crying smears the name of wangxiangtai into ink

Miss the wangxiangtai body winding extremely thin

Memories tear the future of wangxiangtai to pieces

We are here to watch our hometown

actually

We can't see our hometown

I can only see sadness

Feng Xiang loved literature all his life and published many excellent works in many journals and on the Internet.

relatives

My son, Feng Hanmo, was buried by a huge mountain in the May 12, 2008 earthquake. He is still missing! [written in the last log] a lot of IFS, published on April 20, 2009, 00:53. If, one day, I die, brother, please take care of your parents, I came to this world, this is to experience suffering, suffering! Otherwise, how can we appear as twin brothers... If, one day, I die, my wife, please don't be sad, depression, is my closest friend in the past 30 years, depression takes me, also takes away all the sadness... If, one day, I die, Dad, please don't cry, I really live too hard, why is life always so hard Full of suffering, full of hardships, full of sorrow... If, one day, I die, mother, please don't be sad, just 30 years, I realized your love for me, to my meticulous care, but, I really feel that life is too painful, please let me rest, really, let me have a good rest... If, one day, I die, son, that is My happiest thing is that I will let your mother scatter my ashes under the Gleditsia sinensis tree of Qushan primary school. My father will always accompany you and never leave... Son, when you leave, my father has no future, no hope, no vision. Gathering with you is my father's greatest happiness... If one day, I die, dear friends, please don't be depressed My departure makes many people happy and comfortable. My existence is their fear and their opponent. For them, the departure of an opponent is a matter worthy of celebration. If one day, I die, my son, I still want to mention you. We will never leave and stay together forever. I believe that a father is most grateful to you If, one day, I die, dear netizens, thank you for your concern and love, I believe, if, I am in heaven, I can enter heaven, I will promise you, a pain free afterlife, thank you... Thank you I want to imagine the warmth in your arms, but I can't get drunk [brother's memory of Feng Xiang] you have never left --- in memory of my brother (21) the youth whose years were filled with dreams. (1) once the spring and Autumn Festival was celebrated with rain and snow, the residual flowers fell down and the smoke and rain flowed away... --- notes - 1 - childhood years, with the flying snow in winter and the growing strawberries in spring, gradually passed away... - 2 - summer vacation in 1987, It's a little different from the past summer. The clear water of Liangchahe river has lost its attraction in the past. Although it's the same as going up the mountain to collect firewood, pulling pig grass and herding cattle, it's always uneasy in my heart. We have a holiday. My father has to go to Qingshi Central Primary School for papers and meetings. After eating in the morning, he leaves in a hurry and comes back in the evening. When my father came back, although some of us were burning fires and others were chopping potatoes (filling a big basin, chopping the potatoes into small pieces and feeding them to pigs), they were all aiming at my father who came back late, expecting to read something from his eyes... - 3 - the four years of primary school were spent in a hurry in Sanping No.2 primary school, where the mountains and rivers were beautiful. Our sister and brother three, in every morning, bathed in the wisps of morning glow from the clear fog, walked on the path of the mountain stream and walked into the school. Every sunset day, a group of our friends, leaning over the cliff, turn the books stolen from dad's study page by page into a floating paper plane, which becomes smaller and lighter in our eyes, until they disappear into the endless abyss. Four teams of Zhang Erwa, his father caught a little monkey from the mountain, after one or two years of breeding, the little monkey became Zhang Erwa's good partner, with Zhang Erwa herding cattle, pulling pig grass. Sometimes, Zhang Erwa will secretly run home during the lunch break, take his little monkey to the soil playground, and give us a performance of his and his own programs, which attracts the envious eyes of his friends. If we also have a little monkey, also play with us, that is how happy and happy things. In the paper plane flying cliff, groups of big macaques with a few small macaques play, we bent over the cliff, affectionately calling the macaques, endless expectations of big macaques to leave one or two small macaques, let's take home, become our childhood friends. Such a dream, or in a small partner inadvertently rice Cup "Ping Ping" roll down, let the big monkey carrying the little monkey run away. Or the sound of dad's footsteps came from a distance, which made us disperse in a crowd and ended our naive dream. -4 - the fourth grade of primary school is over, and the first departure of life begins... The admission quota of village to township is limited, so many students in the class begin their different lives. At that time, we didn't know how to worry about parting, because those students who didn't study would meet from time to time on the slope, in the field and on the way to the market. Finally, on a rainy evening, my father carried the fan-shaped "umbrella" made of palm leaves and floated into the house with a smile on his face. That night's dinner was held in a pleasant atmosphere. My father made an important speech in a short time, fully affirming our four-year study and looking forward to the bright future. Finally, my father solemnly announced: "Da Wa and Xiao wa have been admitted to the Township Central Primary School, and they have been admitted to the express class." At that time, primary schools were divided into five-year system and six-year system, and those with good grades entered the five-year system of fast class, so the five-year system became the top class. -5 - the summer vacation of that year was spent happily in the expectation of the new school... It was also spent in the sadness of leaving parents and new study life... - 6 - the childhood all over the mountains, forever singing in the spring of the hometown, remembering in the spring of flowers, passing through one day after another, With the wind, with the rain, with the tears, quietly sneak into a dream... - 7 - in the green dream stained by the years, our life ushered in the youth filled with sorrow... Feng Fei was in Chengdu on August 1, 2009

Other information

(excerpt from Feng Fei's space) [Feng Xiang's posthumous works] five works of a Qiang literati

Chinese PinYin : Feng Xiang