Tile blue paint depicts the vast sky, watercolors splash, and the deep sky is crystal clear under the fire. Crazy feathers, happy branches, dazzling brilliance, decisiveness, and lines always fall on the paper so correctly. Green breeds hope. It should chew this cold and flashing call carefully and then give it to the world. Gray, dark gray, light gray, lead gray, iron gray, all kinds of gray, ruthless gray, make way in front of the broadsword, dodge in the horn. Oh, and bright red roses, bright flames. Above the diagonal, a burning geometric pattern appeared. That's the spine, that's the pillar, that's mercury, safe and sound in the fire and the wilderness.

At one end, a crescent moon is burning. It is no longer a gem, but a fruit that grows in the sunshine in your heart. The crescent moon sparkles. It is the uterus that breeds everything and protects each of us. A rose-colored conch is singing alone on the beach, and a nighthawk is flying. Below, next to the guitar played alone, the rock is like a glass dagger, hummingbirds spread their wings, and the clock tirelessly bites their internal organs. Next to these new born things and those things that have been on the table from the beginning, there is a watermelon, a hot Mami fruit and a fire. That watermelon is a crescent moon, a crescent moon produced by the sun shining in a woman's eyes.

In the place so far away from the moon and the sun, bearing fruit in the water, in the center of two opposing worlds that coexist peacefully on that limited picture, we vaguely see our own miniature. A man-eating beast with blue face and fangs, the poet opens his eyes and the woman closes her eyes. This is everything.

two

The sad rider climbed the mountain. Mercedes-Benz horseshoes leave star-like footprints. A cloud of black dust rose from the earth. The earth flies to another galaxy. Raise your red crown at the last moment of your life. The flames roared between the walls and the echoes spread in all directions. The madman split the universe and jumped into his own body. He disappeared instantly and was swallowed up by himself. Beasts eat the bones of the sun, the bodies of stars and the remains of the Osaca market. Two eagles pecked at a bright star in the sky. The living star glides vertically with two pairs of eyes. At this moment of war, lovers rush to the dizzy balcony. Happy ears of wheat quivered on the hot soil and rose to the sky gently. Love is a magnet, and the whole world is attracted. That kiss controlled the tide and opened the floodgate of music. Under the warm feet of love and kiss, everything wakes up, breaks through the hard shell, spreads its wings and flies freely.

three

You see, among all sleeping things, looking for their wings, their weight and their other forms in various substances, isn't that the dancing queen standing in front of you? There are also the Queen of Red Ants, the Princess of Music, the laity in the glass cave, and the girl sleeping next to a tear. Silence is also a kind of dance. It gets up and jumps lightly. It concentrates all the light in the navel. Men see it in their eyes. This is a balance, balancing hope and success. It is a plate, which holds sleeping AIDS and wake-up syrup for us. It is an inherent thought, an eternal wrinkle on the forehead, and an eternal constellation. It is a huge flower, growing on the chest of the dead, in the dream of the living, neither born nor dead. This flower quietly opens its eyes every morning and looks at the gardener who picked it without complaint. Its blood slowly climbed up the broken branches and rose to the vast sky. This is a torch, burning quietly on the ruins of Mexico. It is a fountain like a tree, a rainbow like a fire, and a blood bridge between the living and the dead: growth, uninterrupted growth.

(Translated by Li Deming)

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Rouffineau Tamayo ( 1898-？ ): A famous Mexican painter.

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Pass is keen on colors, lines and geometric patterns with a sense of space. His appreciation of poetry is like this, and his appreciation of painting is still like this. Painting itself presents a variety of images. While using his mind perception, Pass used words-the expression symbol of this language-to transform the image in painting into language and convey the visual impression to people with sound. How to combine the art of vision with the art of language is a problem that Paz thinks about in his writing.

As a representative figure of abstract expressionism, tamayo's paintings show the characteristics of surrealism. This coincides with Paz's style. Therefore, Paz naturally combined tamayo's painting with his own thinking, and his deduction and interpretation also formed a unique surrealist style.

The normal perceptual order has become insignificant in Paz's eyes. In Tamayo's paintings, he found an intuitive feeling to replace the normal perceptual order. Under the guidance of intuition, Paz expressed the improvisation of the mind in his almost abstract language. Symbols and simplified images with deep psychology appear alternately in his works, such as crescent moon, conch, hummingbird and mamiguo. These images do not appear in any real world, and their source can only be the potential consciousness field of the author and painter. The combination of visual art and the power of image gives birth to the "concreteness" produced by abnormal logical thinking, which combines all seemingly irrelevant things together, making the picture composed of words full of dramatic effect and bringing people visual and spiritual shock.

Pass found his spiritual home in tamayo's paintings. Rather than discovering self-pursuit in tamayo's paintings, Pass found hope for growth in his deep psychological world. The image of "fire" comes from the potential world of consciousness, and its burning brings endless hope.

(Yang) According to