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From the Renaissance to the Enlightenment, words have always played a role in illuminating the darkness and leading the way forward for human civilization. The heroes of the struggle against dark feudalism and class exploitation, with the pen as a knife and the word as a shield, did not retreat under the joint strangulation and encirclement of the Catholic Church, the feudal imperial power and the big slave owners.

In the long history of history, there are always people who light up the faint spark and dispel the darkness before the dawn. Beneath the flames of a red light were the cold bones of the pioneers buried under the dust.

Even if the darkness ahead is as long as night and you can't see the dawn of dawn, you must light a dazzling fire for those who come after!

Although there are tens of millions of people, I will go.

The bite of a fly can never stop and detain a horse. Instill truth in the minds of the people and promise not to fill their hearts with falsehoods. The exploited classes of the whole world unite, and what you lose in the revolution is only chains, and what they gain will be the whole world!

"What's the use of writing another one?"

Baudelaire looked at the devastated white stains and sighed, "There will be police wiping them down, there will be people who suddenly break in to seal the newspaper office, and use the law and prison to gag your mouth, what can you do?" ”

"Yes, that's the risk of revolution. But a revolutionary should not stop there! ”

Garion took a deep breath and stared at him behind him, not looking back. "The world will not pay attention to and will not remember what we say here, but they will never forget the actions of those heroes." This requires those of us who are alive to continue to dedicate ourselves to the unfinished cause for which our heroes fought. To give this nation a new lease of life with God's blessing — to make a government of the people, by the people, and for the people endure forever. ”

The government of the people, by the people, and by the people will last forever!

Baudelaire was touched by Garion's words, and for a moment was touched by a weak place in his heart.

But Turgenev was like an initiation, and suddenly the whole person woke up from his confusion.

The blueprint he had been building in his mind, the tsarist slave tyranny he wanted to destroy, was condensed into a short sentence by the young man in front of him!

Three years later, Garion's words would be spoken on another continent, in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, in a speech by a president fighting for liberation and ending the civil war, and then more than a hundred years later, another great leader would spread it throughout the world.

Thunderous applause erupted instantly around Garion, covering the eardrums like a tide, and the Blanquists, Proudhonists, the revolutionaries hiding in the crowd with their hidden identities at this moment, cast admiring glances at the young back, and they repaid their sincere admiration to this young soul!

Amid applause, Garian raised his pen and dropped it in a clean place on the wall. The ink penetrates into the fine textures of the walls and is then quickly applied. Baudelaire and Turgenev both narrowed their eyes at the same time, and they looked to the left of the previous question and answer, and rewrote another poem.

"A generation?"

Seeing this name, Turgenev subconsciously pronounced out his voice. Garion's eyes were focused on the poem, his hands wandering up and down.

"The night gave me black eyes."

Baudelaire paused slightly, then read the next sentence.

And I use it to find the light.

After writing this sentence, Garion suddenly withdrew his hand and did not follow. Baudelaire, who was still waiting for him to continue writing, was stunned for a moment and said, "No? ”

The pen paused in Garion's hand and whispered, "These two sentences are enough. ”

Then he moved his hand down and wrote an abbreviation of his name at the very bottom of the poem.

Turgenev's eyes were fixed on the psalm, and he read it word by word, "Meanness is the pass of the despicable, nobility is the epitaph of the noble, the night gave me black eyes, and I used it to find the light...... the first two sentences of "Q&A" and "One Generation" are spliced together, and there is no sense of disobedience? ”

An abbreviation that made Baudelaire and Turgenev's eyes widen.

Author: G.

Both of them looked up again, their eyes filled with incredible shock.

"Are you really the author of this Q&A?"

Unbeknownst to Garion, his poem had been widely publicized by the revolutionaries, as it had only aroused the interest of the two men in front of him.

He nodded and replied, "Well, I am." ”

At this time, Garion looked around and saw that there were more and more onlookers, and he began to worry that he would attract the attention of the authorities, so he shoved the pen back into Turgenev's hand and prepared to leave in a hurry.

Baudelaire, on the other hand, stopped him before he was about to leave.

"By the way, you haven't told me yet, what's your name?"

Baudelaire said eagerly, "at least let me know your name, stranger." ”

Garion glanced at him, pointed to the abbreviation on the wall, and said calmly, "That's my name." ”

Baudelaire was about to say something, but the young man in front of him had already turned around in a hurry and hurriedly followed the other person away.

Stepping out of the crowd, Zola followed in Garion's footsteps and asked, "Why didn't you tell him your name?" ”

Garion gave him a blank look and whispered, "I'm not obligated to tell a stranger my name, am I?" If he had been a member of Bonaparte's court, I would have been expelled from Paris. ”

Today, Garion was purely improvised, and he didn't have a backer behind him who could vouch for his safety.

The figure quickly disappeared around the corner of St. Anthony's Street. It was like a hurried wave in a sea of people, and soon it was calm again.

"Wait."

Turgenev tried to catch up, but was stopped by Baudelaire, and finally watched the figure disappear from the end of vision.

He turned his head and saw Baudelaire beside him looking at him with a complicated expression, and shook his head slightly.

"Forget it, since he doesn't want to show his face, let's not force the other party."

After saying that, he turned to look at the poetry on the wall behind him, slowly narrowed his eyes, and whispered a repeated.

"The night gave me black eyes......"

"And I use it to find the light."

Turgenev, who was born into a family of serf-owners, had a strong sense of identification with this poem, although he was a nobleman, but since he was a child, he witnessed the murderous tyranny of the landlord class, and had long developed a deep sympathy for the miserable situation of the peasants, and began to speak for the peasants and workers.

He also has the same "black eyes".

Baudelaire stared at the chapter written in black ink, took a deep breath, and seemed to have made a deliberate decision in his mind.

He said to Turgenev, who was beside him, "Although the real name of the man is not known, these two poems should not be buried." ”

"Huh?"

Turgenev's heart chuckled, as if he had a premonition of uneasiness. He only saw the friends around him say firmly, "I'm going to publish it!" Tell the whole Parisian literary and artistic scene! ”

"The blood of the poet has not become cold!"