kvmb Chapter 449 Poetry Competition
Chapter 449 Poetry Competition
"You probably don't even know what poetry is? And you still want to compete with us? Aren't you afraid that the wind will blow your tongue away?"
Being humiliated in public and criticized for reciting poetry as whining, the boy standing on the bench could no longer bear it.
She jumped off the bench and confronted the boy who spoke with a Beijing accent.
"Hmph! Whoever lost their tongue may not know for sure, just don't deny your loss later."
The boy with a Beijing accent still looked fearless.
He looked calm and confident, as if he had already secured victory.
"Don't worry, good is good, bad is bad. Even if I lose, our poetry club will make a fair judgment."
The boy from the poetry club spoke with considerable backbone.
"Tell me, how do you compare it?"
"It's simple. You and I will each recite a poem on the spot. There is no limit to the subject matter. Then we'll see whose poem is better. How about it?" suggested the boy with a Beijing accent.
The method at that time was not complicated.
The boy in the club agreed readily.
"Alright! That's it!"
"So, do you want me to let you prepare, or you can choose the best person to compete with me? I don't care." The boy with a Beijing accent said arrogantly.
As soon as these words were spoken, people from the surrounding poetry clubs immediately started discussing it in a small circle.
"How about it? Should we change people?"
"Who should we replace him with? Zhang Ming is already the best poet in our club. I think if we let Zhang Ming compete with him, he will be defeated instantly. Let's see how arrogant he can be."
"I agree. Although it's a bit of a sledgehammer, making a last-minute substitution would make it seem like we're afraid of him. Let Zhang Ming go, and then he'll lose with conviction."
After hearing what they said, Zhang Ming said, "Don't worry. Someone like him definitely doesn't understand poetry, let alone write anything good. I have a piece of poetry I just wrote called 'To the Seagull'. I'm confident I can beat him."
Zhang Ming's words made the people in the society feel much more at ease.
After a discussion, the poetry club remained unchanged and was still planning to let Zhang Ming, who had just recited, compete with that person.
"How is it? Have you reached an agreement?" The man with a Beijing accent said with a mocking look on his face.
"Hmph, do you want to go first, or should I?" Zhang Ming didn't waste any more time talking and asked directly.
hehe......
"You go first, otherwise by the time I finish reciting, you won't even have the courage to compete, and that won't be fun."
The man with the Beijing accent still spoke arrogantly, causing the people around him to feel indignant.
"Okay, I'll go first."
Zhang Ming stood on the bench again with anger.
After a brief pause, Zhang Ming adjusted his emotions and breath.
The eyes of everyone around were all on Zhang Ming, not only the people from the poetry club, but also many passers-by like Lu Ye and Su Mengyao.
"That boy is annoying. I hope the people in the poetry club can show their skills and defeat that guy. Let's see how arrogant he can be." Su Mengyao said softly.
Regarding the current situation, Lu Ye is not very optimistic about the people in the poetry club.
The guy with the Beijing accent was annoying, but he looked like a smart person.
Such a person would not fight a battle without confidence. He would only make such a clamor if he had something to rely on.
What's more, the person from the poetry club had already recited a poem and had already exposed his level.
"It's hard to say."
Ten seconds later.
Zhang Ming had prepared his emotions.
Taking a deep breath, Zhang Ming slowly spoke: "To Haiyan."
"The storm sweeps across your feathers, you are cutting the shape of the dark clouds. The waves are crusting on the reefs, deep in the whirlpool... You translate the storm into song, who is carving the abyss? It is you, Seagull..."
Zhang Ming recited with great devotion and rich emotions.
Compared with the poem he recited just now, this one is obviously more poetic and meaningful.
Wow...
As Zhang Ming finished his recitation, the crowd around him burst into warm applause.
Two members of the poetry club even shouted, "Great!"
"Great!"
"The vice president's poem 'To the Sea Swallow' is so well written and recited!"
Faced with so much applause and cheers, Zhang Ming was very proud at this moment.
In order to win this competition, he took out his best weapon.
Zhang Ming jumped off the bench and came to the boy with a Beijing accent.
There was also a hint of arrogance in his eyes: "It's your turn!"
"Humph! Zhang Ming's performance of 'To the Seagull' is of such a high level, how can you win? I think you'd better not go up there and embarrass yourself." A boy shouted at him.
"That's all? You think you're good? I think you're all just frogs in a well, you haven't seen much of the world."
The boy with a Beijing accent smiled disdainfully and retorted to the person who shouted at him.
Retracting his gaze, the man with the Beijing accent looked at Zhang Ming in front of him and sneered: "Let me show you what poetry is."
After saying that, the boy with a Beijing accent raised his leg and walked onto the bench.
Looking at the crowd below, the man still had a playful smile on his face.
However, when he looked at Su Mengyao, his eyes revealed a different look.
After two deep breaths, the man quickly adjusted his state and immediately recited:
"The poem I recited is called 'Father and the Stone'"
"On the night when the mountains crumbled into sand, you gathered all the echoes. Those edges smoothed by the fierce wind were your silent resistance..."
Everyone listened to the man with Beijing accent reciting with passion and emotion.
Many people are moved by the emotions in the poem just by the first four lines.
Involuntarily, I listened.
"As old wounds begin to scab over, the sun and moon rise and fall, and new life grows under its protection... The most profound words always solidify into hard stone before reaching our lips and teeth..."
It has to be said that although this man with a Beijing accent was arrogant and domineering, the poem he recited was much better than the one recited by Zhang Ming.
The whole poem vividly depicts that fatherly love is like a mountain, yet as inexpressible as a rock.
It resonated with many people.
After the boy finished reciting, he looked at the crowd below.
Although there was no applause and no one cheered.
But everyone knew very well that the boy with a Beijing accent won this competition.
Zhang Ming's face was as green as grass.
"How's it going? Who of us won?"
The man with a Beijing accent smiled and asked Zhang Ming on the spot.
It can be said to be killing people and destroying their hearts.
"Humph~"
"Our poetry club can only compete and lose. You win this competition!"
Zhang Ming gritted his teeth, turned around and looked at everyone in his club, and said with a guilty look on his face, "I'm sorry, everyone. I, Zhang Ming, have limited abilities, and I've caused you all to suffer along with me. I'm sorry for everyone."
"Just admit defeat."
The man with the Beijing accent won the competition and became even more proud.
Jumping off the bench, the boy patted Zhang Ming on the shoulder twice like an elder.
“There are always people who are better than you, and there are always mountains that are better than you. Practice hard.”
This action angered many people at the scene.
"I think you're the one who needs to go back and practice! They just lost in poetry, but you lost as a person! People like you are not worthy of talking about poetry."
Su Mengyao's voice resounded throughout the scene.