12 o 'clock sharp.
The auditorium was officially connected to the live broadcast.
The stage was decorated in a lively manner. There was a flowery carpet and a lineup of handsome men and beautiful women. Unfortunately, only the staff and family members of the radio station could see it. The listeners in front of the radio could not enjoy it. They could only hear the sound.
"Dear listeners, how are you!"
"I'm the host, Zhang Huo. This is my partner, Sun Mengjie."
"The Mid-Autumn Festival is a time of reunion. Welcome, listeners, to today's live broadcast of the Mid-Autumn Poetry Meet by the News Channel, Literature Channel and Music Channel!"
The two hosts were the star hosts of the News Channel. They were also recognized by the station as two experts. They spoke steadily and rarely made mistakes. Letting them be in charge of the meet showed how much importance the station placed on it. After a few opening remarks, the two hosts began to introduce today's guests.
"Let us welcome the Beijing Ministry of Education's Deputy Chief, Chen Kun!"
"And the Beijing Writers' Association's Deputy Chief, Meng Dongguo, Teacher Meng!"
"Famous poet, Big Thunder!"
"Famous fairy tale writer, Little Red Mushroom …"
After every introduction, the audience erupted in applause.
After the introductions, the host, Zhang Huo, said in a loud and clear voice, "Before the poetry meet begins, let us first invite a few Teachers from the Writers' Association onstage to recite a poem as an opening. We also wish our listeners in front of the radio a happy family, a fulfillment of all your wishes, and a reunion!"
The opening poem recitation had clearly been prepared.
Meng Dongguo was the first to go onstage. He recited calmly, "It's rare to spend the Mid-Autumn Festival together. Today, it's repaid. Joy, remembrance."
With this preface, everyone present knew what poem they were going to recite to liven things up. Of course, other than Zhang Ye, he was probably the only one present who had not heard of this poem before.
Big Thunder went onstage, "Embracing the mirror, embracing the two moons."
Zheng Anbang went onstage, "Pulling the branches around the quiet."
An old man from the Writers' Association, whom Zhang Ye did not know, was the third to answer, "A tree of western fragrance rises."
The last sentence was once again answered by Meng Dongguo. The finale ended, "Filling the hall with autumn."
Everyone applauded enthusiastically. When Zhang Ye heard it, he also applauded. This poem was not bad, it was really not bad.
This was this world's famous poet, Ma Ruihong's "Congratulations on the Auspicious Occasion". Because of an allusion, this poem became famous all over the world. It had always been a must-have for the Mid-Autumn Festival. It was only because Zhang Ye was not a person of this world that he did not know about it. No one else did not know about this "Congratulations on the Auspicious Occasion". Any random person on the streets, regardless of gender or age, could recite it. Well, to give an example, it was similar to Zhang Ye's "hoeing the fields at noon, sweat dripping into the soil." It was the same feeling.
Zhang Ye no longer had the intention to look down on the heroes of the world. There were still many capable seniors in this world.
After the poem was recited, the Beijing Education Ministry's Deputy Chief, Chen Kun, went up to the podium to give a speech. Following that, Deputy Station Head Jia also went up to the podium to give a speech. He represented the entire Beijing Radio Station staff to wish everyone a happy Mid-Autumn Festival.
After a while, the main topic came.
The female host, Sun Mengjie, had a brilliant smile on her face, "Thank you, Leaders, for your speeches. Next will be the poetry competition. Let me explain the rules. Be it the poems of the Writers' Association's Teachers, or the songs that the listeners have posted on our official Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Meet website, as long as you like a poem, everyone can cast three votes for the work you like. Today, we have invited a notary from the Chengdong District's notary office. We will tally the top three votes, so please cherish every vote you have."
Zhang Huo smiled, "Then shall we invite the first Teacher?"
More than ten people from the Writers' Association came. After looking at each other, Meng Dongguo walked up, "Hur Hur, since no one is going up, then I'll be the first. I have a poem." Holding the microphone, Meng Dongguo calmed his mind and gently said, "The poem's name is —" Thoughts on a Rainy Mid-Autumn Night "."
"Flowers bloom and wither, the full moon sighs over the moon's absence."
"Spring stands in the morning, I bid farewell to Hua Yan at dusk."
"Thick stems bloom together, sparse leaves from the autumn voice."
"Leaning on the pillow to listen to the rushing thunder, the wind and rain recalls the night."
Big Thunder was the first to applaud, "Good poem!"
Another youth from the Writers' Association said, "President Meng is becoming more and more exquisite!"
Shen Anbang also nodded heavily, "It's well written. There are too many reunion Mid-Autumn poems these days, but this poem does the opposite. It writes about parting, imperfection, and lamentation. It doesn't seem like a scene of a family's reunion, and it doesn't match the mood. But it's because there's no reunion that it makes people sigh and cherish the beauty of reunion. This is writing the Mid-Autumn from another angle. This Remembering the Night is well written. Sigh, I'm embarrassed to use this poem."
Little Red Mushroom said with a smile, "Old Shen, don't compare with them. We are both novel writers. Wouldn't it be infuriating to compare with them in poetry?"
Shen Anbang laughed, "That's true."
The two hosts also said a few words onstage. They also introduced it to the audience, as the audience could not see it. "This is our Beijing Writers' Association's Vice President, a leading figure in the Beijing poetry scene, Teacher Meng Dongguo's new work. Sigh, I feel intoxicated listening to it."
Meng Dongguo joked, "Not yet. Hur Hur, but if the audience thinks it's good, remember to vote for me. I came here today under pressure. If the votes are too low, I won't have the face to return. So I have to pull for votes."
Zhang Huo said, "President Meng is too modest."
"That's right." Sun Mengjie said, "I think this poem has the look of a champion."
"This is only the first poem?" Zhang Huo pretended to say.
"Hur Hur, Zhang Huo, why don't we make a bet? I'm guessing this will be first. "Firstly, Sun Mengjie was giving Meng Dongguo face, and secondly, this poem was truly wonderful.
Zhang Huo said, "Alright, let's bet. Then I … I'll also bet that this poem will be the champion!"
Seeing the two of them putting on a show, everyone laughed. Actually, many people agreed. Meng Dongguo was a professional, so how could his poems be bad? His skills were there, and with Meng Dongguo's status, he was a leader of the Writers' Association. He was quite famous in Beijing, so he was considered a veteran. Even if this poem was not as supreme as they touted it to be, the quality was still very high. First place was basically guaranteed.
Meng Dongguo went down.
The second person was Shen Anbang. The moment he went on stage, he followed up Meng Dongguo's words, "President Meng said that he was under pressure, but I'm actually under the most pressure. Following behind President Meng, isn't he deliberately making a fool of me? Forget it, I have to say it even if I don't want to. I'm not good at ancient poems, so I'll use a modern poem to liven things up. "
A minute later, he finished.
Everyone was stunned, but they all applauded.
Meng Dongguo praised, "This Little Shen. After being humble all day, he actually had such a good piece of work."
The other people from the Writers' Association did not expect that an author who wrote romance novels could write such a good modern poem. Perhaps it could not be compared to Meng Dongguo's, but it was still good enough to compete for second or third place.
The third person to go on stage was a young author. However, he did not recite a poem. Instead, he recited a poem. Although he did not sing it, the lyrics were still vivid and elegant. It was very artistic.
The fourth person was Little Red Mushroom. The moment she went on stage, she spoke first, "Let me say this first. I don't know any poems. I write fairy tales. Today, I'll create a fable for everyone." She began. The story was a personification technique. It turned the moon into a person, and it was rather beautiful.
One after another.
One after another.
Those who could enter the Writers' Association were no pushovers. They all showcased their abilities.
Finally, the last person to go on stage was Big Thunder. His poems were always known for their grandeur, just like his character. Hence, the theme of today's Mid-Autumn Festival hindered his performance. He recited a poem, but the effect was not ideal. This was because the applause was not that great. However, perhaps it was because of its strong literary value, the poem evoked a lot of reflection. Meng Dongguo and a few Teachers from the Writers' Association gave Big Thunder a high evaluation after he came down.
"Big Thunder, the poem is very good."
"Don't mind the applause. It's very good."
"The lack of applause is because they did not understand it. They did not delve into it. If they had listened to this poem a few more times and chewed on it, it would have left a lasting aftertaste."
Big Thunder said indifferently, "I also think it's alright."
An hour after the poetry meet, it was already 1 PM in the afternoon.
The host, Zhang Huo, took over the microphone, "Thank you Teachers from the Writers' Association for your wonderful works. Today has really broadened my horizons. Every excellent work made me unwilling to miss a single word. I believe the listeners in front of the radio have had a feast for their ears, so what are you waiting for? Hurry up and vote for the works you like. Our voting deadline is 2 PM in the afternoon. Just now, the notary told us that it will take five minutes to verify the votes. So our poetry meet still has an hour and five minutes left. What should we do in the remaining time? Let us read out the top ranked works on the submission website. Everyone can also listen to the works sent in by netizens. "
The female host, Sun Mengjie, held a tablet computer. There was no cell phone signal here, but the live broadcast equipment and other communication tools had their own wireless signal, so they could use it. "Ah, I saw it. Currently, first place is Teacher Meng Dongguo's work. Let me read out the top ten."
First: Meng Dongguo, 23019 votes.
Second: Shen Anbang, 12553 votes.
Third: Dong Fei, 9813 votes.
Fourth: Little Red Mushroom, 9681 votes.
And so on. The top ten were all people from the Writers' Association. Meng Dongguo was far in the lead. Third place was Dong Fei, who was also a famous modern poet from the Writers' Association. Even though Big Thunder's poem did not receive a strong response from the radio station's staff, it still obtained tenth place. Below it, eleventh place was the work of a netizen.
The host read it out.
This work called Rising Winds and Clouds' was not bad, but it was only not bad. There was always a difference between a professional and an amateur. It could be seen from the votes.
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