国色祀·大唐牡丹祭

         原创诗文/柴永红

咸阳的风，掀开了大唐的云，

千年的牡丹，举着烈焰般的花，

我看见，花神的脚步，正踏着春光而来。

那不是寻常的绽放，是从盛唐的泥土里，

拱破了时光的封皮，把长安的霞色，

酿成了枝头的粉紫，酿成了祭祀台上，

一捧捧滚烫的敬畏。

风过处，每一朵花瓣都在低语，

说开元的月光，曾照过兴庆宫的牡丹，

说曲江的水波，曾映过杨贵妃的笑靥。

而今天，大唐牡丹园的春光里，

我们摆下长案，铺展红与绿的祭台，

用最质朴的心意，唤醒沉睡的花魂。

那株老树，虬枝如盘龙，托举着满树繁花，

粉的、紫的，像从《簪花仕女图》里走出来的，

带着盛唐的雍容，带着千年的风骨，

春风里舒展，祭祀的烟火里，

回应着人间的虔诚。

祭台上的红，是长安宫墙的朱砂，

是“福到万家”的喜庆，是陕西人骨子里的热忱。

三个红礼盒并排而立，像三座小小的牌坊，

写着薄皮核桃的丰饶，写着“福到万家”的祈愿，

那不是简单的供品，是秦川大地的馈赠，

是八百里秦川的风，吹熟了土地里的果实，

再由我们，双手捧给护佑百花的神。

那西瓜圆滚滚的，像盛唐的月亮，

顶着一张金黄的锅盔，像顶着一轮太阳。

这是陕西的浪漫，是黄土高原的厚重，

用最质朴的方式，表达最隆重的敬意。

锅盔的麦香，混着红枣的甜香，

混着花生、核桃、桂圆的烟火气，

春风里散开，像一首写在祭台上的诗。

那瓷瓶是柿子的模样，橙红鲜亮，

瓶身上的“福”字，是红纸上剪下的吉祥。

立在祭台的四角，像四个守岁的童子，

护着满桌的心意，护着满树的繁花，

护着大唐牡丹园里，这千年不熄的春光。

酒杯排得整整齐齐，像一列列等待的士兵，

透明的杯盏里，盛着清冽的酒，

盛着秦川的水，盛着陕西人的诚意。

高的玻璃杯，矮的小酒杯，一字排开，

阳光下泛着光，像一片小小的湖泊，

倒映着满树的牡丹，倒映着蓝天，

也倒映着我们眼中的虔诚。

酒是敬花神的，也是敬春天的，

敬这历经千年依然盛放的牡丹，

敬这从盛唐走到今天的花魂。

当春风吹过，杯中的酒轻轻摇晃，

像在回应，像在低语，像花神的指尖，

轻轻碰了碰人间的心意。

那烧鸡、那熏鱼，摆得端正，

是秦川的烟火，是人间的滋味，

我们把最丰盛的食物捧上祭台，

不是奢求什么，只是想告诉花神，

我们记得，记得每一朵花开的季节，

记得每一缕春光里的温柔，

记得这牡丹园里，千年不曾褪色的盛唐气象。

阳光从枝桠间漏下来，落在花瓣上，

落在祭台上，落在我们的脸上。

那些粉紫的牡丹，开得热烈，

像一群穿着盛唐襦裙的女子，

春风里起舞，祭祀的仪式里，

和我们一同，完成一场跨越千年的对话。

风里有麦香，有酒香，有花香，

有黄土高原的粗粝，也有盛唐的温婉。

我站在祭台旁，看着满树的繁花，

看着满桌的心意，忽然就懂了，

这祭祀，从来不是单向的祈求，

而是双向的奔赴。

我们敬花神，也是敬春天，

敬土地，敬这生生不息的文化，

敬这从盛唐走来，从未凋零的牡丹。

那些花瓣落在祭台上，落在酒杯里，

像花神的回信，像盛唐的邮戳，

落在了我们的掌心，落在了这春光里。

它们说，千年的时光里，

我们从未离开，只要春风一吹，

只要你们记得，我们就会在枝头，

再次绽放，再次与你们相逢。

祭祀的仪式落下，春风依旧吹拂，

牡丹依旧热烈地开着，

我知道，有些东西，从来不会消失。

藏在这满树的繁花里，

藏在这祭台的烟火里，

藏在陕西人骨子里，对土地、对春天、对文化的敬畏里。

大唐的牡丹，从未离开，

只是换了一种方式，今天绽放。

而我们，用一场朴素的祭祀，

把盛唐的温度，重新焐热，

把千年的花魂，重新唤醒。

风又吹过，花瓣轻轻颤动，

像一声温柔的回应，像一句跨越千年的“再见”，

又像一句约定——

明年春天，我们还在这里，

等你，等花，等一场大唐的风，

再次吹开这满园的春光，

吹开这秦川大地上，永不褪色的盛唐气象。

秦川长风为杵，盛唐月光为墨，乾陵梁山的苍苔之上，凿开一部千年牡丹的史诗——这不是寻常的花朝，是国色归位，是花神临坛，是八百里秦川以最隆重的敬畏，为天地立一尊春之祭坛！

吉时的钟磬，穿透乾陵的云霭，落进大唐牡丹园的虬枝与繁花之间——我望见，八百株百年牡丹古树正以斑驳的树皮为经，以层层叠叠的花瓣为纬，织就一幅横跨盛唐与今朝的活体长卷。 那不是花，是流淌的盛唐月光，是开元的朱砂，是李白《清平调》里的风骨，黄土与春风的滋养下，穿越千年风尘，今日再度绽放，以一树一品的威仪，撑起“活体牡丹博物馆”的苍穹。

祭坛，就安在那株“太平公主”牡丹古树之下。 青石板铺就的坛场，被春风擦得发亮，像极了当年兴庆宫沉香亭的石阶，承接着从《全唐诗》里流淌而来的春光。绿布为底，是秦川沃土的厚重；红布为边，是长安宫墙的炽热；两色交织，便是黄土高原最赤诚的祭服。

案上，三鼎红漆礼盒并立，如三座微缩的盛唐牌坊。  盒中，薄皮核桃的脆香裹着渭水的温润，是秦川大地以最朴素的果实，敬献给花神的丰饶；圆滚滚的西瓜顶着金黄锅盔，像顶着一轮长安的太阳——麦香与瓜甜在春风里交融，是黄土人把最踏实的日子，捧成花神面前的供品。 四角，橙红的柿子瓷瓶静立，瓶身的“福”字红得像腊月窗花，是八百里秦川以烟火为符，为百花祈愿岁岁安康。

酒杯列成星阵，高的玻璃杯映着蓝天，矮的小酒杯盛着秦川清泉，透明的杯盏里，清冽的酒光摇晃，像盛唐的月光在流淌。 这酒，不是为了醉，是为了敬——敬花神执掌春之秩序，敬牡丹以国色之姿，唤醒这片土地的盛唐气象。

烧鸡的焦香、熏鱼的醇味、红枣的甜润、花生的脆爽，混着酒香与麦香，春风里铺成一条通往盛唐的路。 这不是奢华的宴席，是黄土人最地道的烟火：以人间滋味，敬天地神灵；以岁岁丰饶，告慰千年花魂。

风一吹，牡丹便开了。

那不是普通的绽放，是花神以千万种姿态，降临人间。

“贵妃插翠”如云霞漫过枝头，外层粉瓣轻垂，内里金蕊灼灼，正应了“云想衣裳花想容”的盛景，仿佛杨贵妃的霓裳，枝头流转成花。 “太平公主”虬枝如盘龙，托举着碗口大的重瓣繁花，热情奔放、气度不凡，带着盛唐公主的敢作敢为，春光里书写传奇。 “媚娘”牡丹雍容华贵，深红如焰，像武则天的威仪，历经千年而不减锋芒，尽显“天下无双”的气度。 还有“上官婉儿”，素瓣清雅，金蕊如星，似才女的笔墨，枝头写下千古风雅。

千瓣牡丹层层叠叠，像织锦，像云锦，像贵妃的霓裳，层层包裹着金色的花蕊，每一片花瓣都在诉说盛唐的故事。  单瓣牡丹清丽洒脱，像仕女的襦裙，春风里轻舞，与枝头的蜂蝶共唱春之赞歌。  紫斑牡丹扎根黄土，花瓣深处的紫斑如神之印章，是花神的印记，见证着牡丹从盛唐走来的血脉。 

那株百年牡丹古树，虬枝苍劲，托举着满树繁花，像一把撑开的巨伞，把千年时光拢在春光里。 花瓣落在祭坛，落在酒杯，落在我们的发梢，像花神的回信，轻轻低语：我从未离开，只要春风一吹，只要你们记得，我便在枝头绽放。

祭祀的仪式，没有钟鼓擂鸣，却比任何乐章都庄严。

主祭焚香，三炷清香直上云霄，是人与花神的第一重契约——以香为桥，连通天地。 焚香毕，三拜礼起，俯身时，额头触地，是黄土人对花神最虔诚的致敬。这一拜，拜牡丹为国色之魂，拜花神执掌春之秩序，拜这片土地，永远铭记盛唐的风骨。

献供时，满桌的心意被双手捧上：核桃、西瓜、锅盔、柿子、红枣、花生，每一件都是秦川的馈赠；清酒、清茶、鲜花、鲜果，每一样都是春之献礼。 主祭捧起供品，缓缓置于坛前，动作庄重，心怀敬畏，是把人间的欢喜，敬给花神。

读祝文时，声音沉稳而滚烫，字句里藏着秦川的风、黄土的厚、盛唐的光：“惟以牡丹为媒，以春华为信，以天地为证，敬花神临坛。愿百花繁盛，风调雨顺；愿国脉恒昌，生生不息；愿秦川沃土，岁岁安康，年年花开盛世！” 祝文念毕，春风拂过祭坛，花瓣飘落，像花神的颔首，像千年的回响。

三献礼毕，主祭举杯，酒洒坛前，瞬间被黄土吸收。 酒香混着花香、麦香，春风里酿成最动人的春——这酒，敬花神，敬牡丹，敬盛唐，敬这片土地上，生生不息的希望。

阳光穿过枝桠，落在花瓣上，落在祭坛，落在每个人的脸上，给一切都镀上一层温柔的金边。

我看见，穿汉服的姑娘站在花树下，襦裙与盛唐仕女的衣袂在春风里弧度相同，她抬手接住一片飘落的花瓣，眼里有光，像从千年前走来，与花神、春光撞了个满怀。  我看见，老人抚摸着牡丹古树的枝干，眼里满是温柔，他说这树比他爷爷还老，每年春天准时开花——这不是花，是念想，是传承，是刻在秦川人骨子里的骄傲。 我看见，孩子追着花瓣跑，笑声像风铃，撞碎满园春光，他们不懂盛唐与祭祀，却懂得欢喜——这最纯粹的欢喜，是对花神最好的告慰。

风又吹过，花瓣簌簌落下，像一场温柔的花雨，落在祭坛，落在酒杯，落在每个人的心上。 千年时光里，我们从未与这片土地疏离；只要春风吹拂，只要你们心怀敬畏，我们便在枝头绽放，与你们相逢。

吉时将尽，阳光把天空染成长安宫墙的颜色，祭祀的仪式，缓缓落下帷幕。

祭坛上的心意，会留在这片土地里，滋养着千年牡丹；酒杯里的余温，会被春风带走，传给盛唐月光；我们的虔诚，会被花神记住，记在满园春光里，记在每一朵盛放的牡丹中。

收拾祭坛时，指尖拂过青石板，仿佛触到盛唐的时光；弯腰捡起花瓣，像拾起一段千年的故事。身后的牡丹，依然开得热烈，像永不落幕的盛宴，像盛唐的月光，永远炽热。

我回头望，那株“太平公主”牡丹古树，花瓣铺成红毯，像花神为我们铺就的，跨越千年的路。 我知道，明年春天，我们还会来——带着秦川的心意，带着人间的烟火，带着对盛唐的敬意，与花神相逢，与春天相逢，与这片土地上，生生不息的希望，相逢。

风里，留着酒香、花香，留着千年回响。

那是大唐牡丹，春风里对我们说：

来年，再相见；

岁岁，花开盛世，国色恒昌！

The National Beauty Sacrifice · Tang Dynasty Peony Festival

By Chai Yonghong

The wind of Xianyang parts the clouds of the Great Tang,

A thousand-year-old peonies hold flame-like blooms high,

I see the footsteps of the Flower Goddess, striding forth on spring light.

This is no ordinary blossoming—from the soil of the flourishing Tang,

It breaks through the seal of time, brewing the rosy glow of Chang’an

Into pink and purple on the branches, brewing on the sacrificial altar

Clusters of burning reverence.

As the wind passes, every petal whispers,

Telling of the moonlight of the Kaiyuan era, that once shone on peonies in Xingqing Palace,

Telling of the waves of Qujiang, that once mirrored the smile of Yang Guifei.

And today, amid the spring glow of the Great Tang Peony Garden,

We set long tables, spread altars of red and green,

With the simplest hearts, rouse the slumbering flower soul.

That old tree, gnarled branches coiling like dragons, upholds full blooms,

Pink, purple, as if stepped out of Painting of Beauties Wearing Flowers,

Bearing the grace of the flourishing Tang, the fortitude of a thousand years,

Unfolding in the spring breeze, amid the smoke of sacrifice,

Answering mortal piety.

The red on the altar is the cinnabar of Chang’an palace walls,

The joy of “blessings to all households”, the fervor in Shaanxi people’s bones.

Three red gift boxes stand side by side, like three small memorial arches,

Speaking of the abundance of thin-shelled walnuts, the wish of “blessings to all households”.

These are no mere offerings, but gifts from the Qinchuan land,

Ripened by the winds of eight hundred li Qinchuan,

Then held with both hands to the Goddess who guards all flowers.

The round watermelon, like the full moon of the flourishing Tang,

Crowned with a golden guokui flatbread, as if bearing the sun.

This is the romance of Shaanxi, the weight of the Loess Plateau,

Expressing the grandest respect in the simplest way.

The wheat fragrance of guokui mingles with the sweetness of red dates,

With the earthly scent of peanuts, walnuts, longans,

Spreading in the spring breeze, like a poem written on the altar.

The porcelain vases are shaped like persimmons, bright orange-red,

The “blessing” character on each, cut from red paper for good fortune.

Standing at the four corners of the altar, like four boys keeping vigil,

Guarding the table full of sincerity, guarding the full blooms of the tree,

Guarding the never-fading spring light in the Great Tang Peony Garden.

Wine cups line up neatly, like rows of waiting soldiers,

Clear goblets holding crisp wine,

Holding water from Qinchuan, the sincerity of Shaanxi people.

Tall glasses, small wine cups, arranged in a line,

Glinting in the sun, like a tiny lake,

Reflecting the peonies on the branches, the blue sky,

And the piety in our eyes.

The wine is offered to the Flower Goddess, and to spring itself,

To the peonies still blooming after a thousand years,

To the flower soul that has walked from the flourishing Tang to today.

When the spring breeze blows, the wine in the cups sways gently,

As if answering, whispering, like the Goddess’s fingertips

Brushing mortal hearts.

Roast chickens, smoked fish, placed with dignity,

Are the earthly flavors of Qinchuan, the taste of mortal life.

We lay the richest food on the altar,

Not for craving, but to tell the Flower Goddess:

We remember—every season when flowers bloom,

Every tenderness in spring light,

The never-fading splendor of the Tang in this peony garden.

Sunlight filters through branches, falling on petals,

On the altar, on our faces.

Those pink and purple peonies bloom fervently,

Like women in Tang-style ruqun dresses,

Dancing in the spring breeze, in the sacrificial rite,

Joining us in a dialogue across a thousand years.

In the wind are wheat fragrance, wine fragrance, flower fragrance,

The ruggedness of the Loess Plateau, and the grace of the flourishing Tang.

Standing by the altar, watching the full blooms,

The table full of sincerity, I suddenly understand:

This sacrifice is never one-sided supplication,

But a mutual journey.

We honor the Flower Goddess, and we honor spring,

The earth, the endless living culture,

The peonies that have come from the Tang and never withered.

Petals fall on the altar, into the wine cups,

Like the Goddess’s reply, a postmark from the Tang,

Landing on our palms, in this spring light.

They say: through a thousand years,

We have never left. As long as the spring breeze blows,

As long as you remember, we will bloom on the branches,

Meet you again.

The sacrifice ends, yet the spring breeze still blows,

Peonies still bloom fervently.

I know some things never vanish.

Hidden in the full blooms of the tree,

In the smoke of the altar,

In Shaanxi people’s bones—reverence for earth, spring, and culture.

The peonies of the Tang have never left,

Only bloomed anew today in another form.

And we, with a simple sacrifice,

Rewarm the warmth of the Tang,

Rouse the thousand-year-old flower soul.

The wind blows again, petals tremble softly,

Like a gentle reply, a thousand-year “farewell”,

And a promise:

Next spring, we will be here still,

Waiting for you, waiting for flowers, waiting for the wind of the Tang

To blow open this garden of spring light again,

To blow open the never-fading splendor of the Tang on Qinchuan land.

With the long wind of Qinchuan as a pestle, moonlight of the Tang as ink, on the mossy Liang Mountain of Qianling, we carve an epic of peonies across a thousand years. This is no ordinary flower festival—it is the return of national beauty, the descent of the Flower Goddess, and eight hundred li Qinchuan erecting a grand altar of spring for heaven and earth with utmost reverence!

Chimes of the auspicious hour pierce the mist of Qianling, falling among gnarled branches and blooms in the Great Tang Peony Garden. I behold eight hundred century-old peony trees weaving a living scroll spanning the Tang and today, with mottled bark as warp and layered petals as weft.

These are not flowers—they are flowing moonlight of the Tang, cinnabar of the Kaiyuan era, the spirit in Li Bai’s Qing Ping Diao. Nurtured by loess and spring breeze, they cross a thousand years of dust to bloom again today, upholding the canopy of a “Living Peony Museum” with regal dignity of one tree, one variety.

The altar rests beneath the ancient peony tree named “Princess Taiping”.

The stone-paved altar ground, polished bright by spring wind, resembles the stone steps of Chenxiang Pavilion in Xingqing Palace, bearing spring light flowing from Complete Tang Poems. Green cloth for the base, the weight of Qinchuan soil; red cloth for the edge, the warmth of Chang’an palace walls—intertwined, they form the most sincere sacrificial robe of the Loess Plateau.

On the table stand three red-lacquered gift boxes, like miniature Tang arches.

Inside, the crisp fragrance of thin-shelled walnuts blends with the gentleness of Wei River, a humble fruit of Qinchuan offered to the Flower Goddess as abundance. The round watermelon crowned with golden guokui holds the sun of Chang’an—wheat and melon sweetness merging in spring, as loess people offer their steady days to the Goddess.

At four corners stand bright orange persimmon vases, with “blessing” characters red as Lunar New Year window decorations, a firework talisman of eight hundred li Qinchuan praying for peace for all flowers.

Wine cups form a star formation: tall glasses mirror the blue sky, small cups hold Qinchuan spring water, clear wine shimmering like Tang moonlight. This wine is not for intoxication, but for reverence—to the Flower Goddess who rules spring, to peonies that awaken the Tang splendor of this land.

The aroma of roast chicken, smoked fish, red dates, and peanuts mingles with wine and wheat, paving a path to the Tang in spring wind. This is no lavish feast, but the authentic taste of loess people: offering mortal flavors to heaven and gods, telling the thousand-year flower soul of yearly abundance.

When the wind blows, peonies bloom.

This is no ordinary blossoming—it is the Flower Goddess descending in myriad forms.

“Guifei Chacui” spreads like rosy clouds, pink outer petals hanging gently, golden stamens blazing bright, echoing “Clouds think her robe, flowers think her face”, as if Yang Guifei’s silk garments bloom on branches.

“Princess Taiping” has dragon-coiled gnarled branches holding bowl-sized double blooms, passionate and majestic, bearing the bold spirit of a Tang princess, writing legend in spring.

“Wuniang” (Empress Wu) is elegant and noble, deep red as flame, embodying Wu Zetian’s dignity, sharp after a thousand years, peerless under heaven.

“Shangguan Wan’er” bears pure petals and star-like golden stamens, like a talented lady’s brush writing eternal grace on branches.

Layered petals of thousand-petaled peonies resemble brocade, cloud embroidery, imperial robes, wrapping golden stamens, every petal telling Tang tales.

Single-petaled peonies are fresh and unrestrained, like ladies’ ruqun dancing with bees and butterflies singing spring.

Purple-spotted peonies root in loess, purple marks at petal bases as divine seals, witnessing the peony lineage from the Tang.

That century-old peony tree, sturdy gnarled branches holding full blooms, unfolds like a giant umbrella gathering a thousand years in spring. Petals fall on the altar, into wine cups, on our hair—like the Goddess’s reply, whispering softly: I never left. As long as spring blows and you remember, I bloom.

The sacrifice has no booming drums, yet is more solemn than any music.

The chief priest burns three incense sticks rising to the sky—the first covenant between man and Flower Goddess, incense as a bridge connecting heaven and earth.

After incense, three bows: forehead touching ground, the loess people’s deepest reverence.

One bow to peonies as soul of national beauty; one to the Flower Goddess ruling spring; one to this land, forever bearing Tang fortitude.

Offering gifts: walnuts, watermelon, guokui, persimmons, dates, peanuts—all gifts of Qinchuan; clear wine, tea, fresh flowers, fruits—all tributes of spring. The chief priest holds offerings slowly to the altar, dignified and reverent, offering mortal joy to the Goddess.

Reciting the prayer, voice steady and fervent, words holding Qinchuan wind, loess weight, Tang light:

“With peonies as medium, spring splendor as faith, heaven and earth as witness, we honor the Flower Goddess. May flowers flourish, weather be smooth; may our nation prosper endlessly; may Qinchuan soil enjoy peace yearly, blooms of prosperity every spring!”

As the prayer ends, spring wind sweeps the altar, petals falling like the Goddess’s nod, a thousand-year echo.

After three libations, the chief priest raises a cup, spilling wine before the altar, absorbed by loess. Wine fragrance blends with flowers and wheat, brewing the most touching spring in wind—this wine honors the Goddess, peonies, the Tang, and endless hope on this land.

Sunlight passes through branches, gilding petals, altar, and every face with soft gold.

I see Hanfu-clad maidens under flower trees, ruqun curves matching Tang ladies’ sleeves in wind. One catches a falling petal, eyes bright, as if stepping from a thousand years ago, meeting the Goddess and spring.

I see elders stroking peony trunks gently, saying the trees are older than their grandfathers, blooming on time every spring—these are not flowers, but memories, heritage, pride in Qinchuan bones.

I see children chasing petals, laughter like wind chimes breaking spring light. They know not Tang or sacrifice, only pure joy—the best comfort for the Goddess.

Wind blows again, petals falling like gentle flower rain, on the altar, into cups, into every heart.

Across a thousand years, we never strayed from this land. As long as spring blows and reverence lives, we bloom on branches and meet you.

The auspicious hour fades, sunlight painting the sky the hue of Chang’an walls, the sacrifice slowly concludes.

Sincerity on the altar stays in the soil, nourishing thousand-year peonies; warmth in cups is carried by wind to Tang moonlight; our piety is remembered by the Goddess, in spring light, in every blooming peony.

Clearing the altar, fingers brush stone slabs as if touching Tang time; bending to pick petals, holding a thousand-year story. Behind us, peonies bloom fervently, like an endless feast, Tang moonlight forever blazing.

I turn back: the “Princess Taiping” peony spreads petals like a red carpet, a thousand-year path laid by the Goddess.

I know next spring we will return—with Qinchuan sincerity, mortal fireworks, respect for the Tang, meeting the Goddess, spring, and endless hope on this land.

In the wind lingers wine fragrance, flower fragrance, a thousand-year echo.

It is the Tang peonies speaking in spring:

Until next year;

Year after year, blooms of prosperity, eternal national beauty!

      🎋🌹🌹 作家简介 🌹🌹🎋

柴永红，笔名红鑫、冰荔枝、一枝红莲，祖籍江苏省南京市，现居北京市朝阳区金茂府。享誉海内外的中国当代著名女作家、文坛泰斗级人物，金榜头条形象大使、文学领军人物，更是万众敬仰、光耀时代的金榜头条时代的符号。以雄浑笔力、高远格局与卓越成就，屹立于当代中国文学之巅，引领文坛风尚，铸就时代经典。深耕文学创作数十载，笔耕不辍、硕果累累，先后出版66万字个人诗集三部：《雨潇潇红鑫鑫》《云中紫城静楼乾坤》《铁马冰河》。作品意境恢弘、诗风苍劲、意蕴深厚，篇篇华章，字字珠玑，深受文坛与读者高度赞誉。多年来，斩获无数国家级与海内外重磅荣誉，载誉无数：2017年荣膺“中国新诗百年”全球华语诗人诗作评选·一百位网络最给力诗人奖，位列排行榜第二名；先后荣获建国70周年中华好诗榜、2019年度中国诗歌排行榜、中外华语诗坛精英百强榜多项权威诗人大奖；2021年摘得中国金榜电影人春晚名人名家榜金奖；荣获名篇金榜头条第一届“太白杯”文赛金奖；2024年荣获品牌金榜十大编辑年度人物“编辑创新典范奖”；2025年再获品牌金榜十大编辑年度人物“编辑璀璨之星奖”。其诗歌作品经权威翻译，重磅入选《苏菲译·世界诗歌年鉴2022卷》（汉英对照），由苏菲翻译主编，英汉双语纸质版与电子版全球同步发行，世界16国联合出版：纸质书发行13国：中国、美国、英国、德国、法国、西班牙、意大利、荷兰、波兰、瑞典、日本、加拿大、澳大利亚；电子书发行13国：美国、英国、德国、法国、西班牙、意大利、荷兰、日本、巴西、加拿大、墨西哥、澳大利亚、印度。诗作远播五洲四海，中国诗意走向世界，尽显当代中国女作家的国际风范。身兼数职，德才兼备，执掌文坛笔政、深耕文化：金榜头条编辑总部副社长，金榜头条新媒体平台总理事长、文学艺术顾问、总编；名篇金榜诗词研究院创始讲师；加拿大海外作家协会永久会员，中国新时代诗人档案库会员，江苏省南京市作家协会会员；一枝红莲文学诗社、世界作家澜韵府诗社创始人、社长、总编、总裁董事长。以诗铸魂，以文载道，以心传情，以志立业，当之无愧的中国当代著名女作家、金榜头条形象大使、金榜头条时代的符号，大气磅礴，光耀文坛，流芳后世！

🌹🌹微信：jbtt228899jbtt🌹🌹

手机号码：17800892095（北京中国移动）.

   🌷🌷About the Author🌷🌷

Chai Yonghong

Pen names: Hong Xin, Bing Lizhi (Ice Litchi), Yi Zhi Hong Lian (A Red Lotus)

Ancestral hometown: Nanjing City, Jiangsu Province

Current residence: Jinmao Mansion, Chaoyang District, Beijing, China

She is a celebrated contemporary Chinese female writer and a towering literary figure renowned both at home and abroad. She serves as the Image Ambassador of Jinbang Toutiao, a leading literary pioneer, and a highly respected, era-defining icon of the Jinbang Toutiao era.

With powerful writing, profound vision, and extraordinary achievements, she stands at the pinnacle of contemporary Chinese literature, leading literary trends and creating timeless classics. After decades of dedicated literary creation and unremitting writing, she has achieved fruitful accomplishments, publishing three individual poetry collections with a total of360,000 Chinese characters:

- Pattering Rain, Glorious Xin Xin

- Purple City and Quiet Tower in the Clouds: The Universe

- Iron Horses on the Frozen River

Her works feature magnificent conception, vigorous poetic style, and profound meaning. Every piece is an outstanding chapter, every line a literary gem, highly acclaimed by the literary community and readers worldwide.

Over the years, she has been awarded numerous national and international prestigious honors:

- 2017: Awarded “Top 100 Most Influential Online Poets” in the Global Chinese Poetry Selection for the Centenary of Modern Chinese Poetry, ranking 2nd place

- Recipient of authoritative awards including the 70th Anniversary of the Founding of the People’s Republic of China Outstanding Chinese Poems List, 2019 China Poetry Ranking List, and World Chinese Poets Elite Top 100 List

- 2021: Gold Award in the Celebrities List of the China Jinbang Filmmakers Spring Festival Gala

- Gold Award in the 1st “Taibai Cup” Literary Competition of Mingpian Jinbang Toutiao

- 2024: “Model of Editorial Innovation” in the Brand Jinbang Top 10 Editors of the Year

- 2025: “Bright Star of Editing” in the Brand Jinbang Top 10 Editors of the Year

Her poems, translated by professional translators, have been selected for

Sufei Translates · World Poetry Yearbook 2022 (Chinese-English bilingual edition), edited and translated by Sufei.

It is published simultaneously worldwide in print and electronic editions, jointly published by 16 countries:

- Print distribution in 13 countries:

China, United States, United Kingdom, Germany, France, Spain, Italy, Netherlands, Poland, Sweden, Japan, Canada, Australia

- E-book distribution in 13 countries:

United States, United Kingdom, Germany, France, Spain, Italy, Netherlands, Japan, Brazil, Canada, Mexico, Australia, India

Her poetry has spread across the globe, bringing Chinese poetic charm to the world and fully demonstrating the international grace of contemporary Chinese women writers.

She holds multiple important positions with both virtue and talent, devoting herself to literary and cultural development:

- Vice President, Editorial Headquarters, Jinbang Toutiao

- General Director, Literary and Art Consultant, Editor-in-Chief, Jinbang Toutiao New Media Platform

- Founding Lecturer, Mingpian Jinbang Poetry Research Institute

- Permanent Member, Canadian Overseas Writers Association

- Member, China New Era Poets Archive

- Member, Nanjing Writers Association, Jiangsu Province

- Founder, President, Editor-in-Chief, Chairperson, A Red Lotus Literature and Poetry Society; Founder, President, Editor-in-Chief, Chairperson, World Writers Lanyunfu Poetry Society

She forges the soul with poetry, upholds truth through literature, conveys affection with sincerity, and builds her career with ambition.

She is a well-deserved famous contemporary Chinese female writer, Image Ambassador of Jinbang Toutiao, and an icon of the Jinbang Toutiao era—magnificent, glorious in the literary world, and immortal for generations.

WeChat: jbtt228899jbtt

Mobile: 17800892095 (China Mobile Beijing)