Hiding in the small building into a unified, regardless of winter Xia Chunqiu.
Lu Xun
What do you want from the delivery of the canopy, but you dare not turn over and meet each other.
A broken hat covers the downtown, and a leaky boat carries wine.
Fierce-browed, I coolly defy a thousand pointing fingers, Head-bowed, like a willing ox I serve the children.
Hiding in the small building into a unified, regardless of winter Xia Chunqiu.
Lu Xun (188 1 September 25th-19361October19), formerly known as Zhou Zhangshou, later renamed Yushan, later changed to Yucai, "Lu Xun" is his1. A famous writer and thinker, an important participant in the May 4th New Culture Movement and the founder of modern literature in China. Mao Zedong once commented: "Lu Xun's direction is the direction of the new culture of the Chinese nation."
Lu Xun has made great contributions in many fields, such as literary creation, literary criticism, ideological research, literary history research, translation, introduction of art theory, introduction of basic science and research on ancient books collation. He had a great influence on the development of China's social ideology and culture after the May 4th Movement, and enjoyed a high reputation in the world literary world, especially in the fields of Korean and Japanese ideology and culture. He is known as "the writer who occupied the largest territory on the East Asian cultural map in the 20th century".
Pipa line/pipa leads Bai Juyi? Don?
In the evening, I bid farewell to a guest on Xunyang River. Maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn. I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music. Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon.
We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left. We followed the direction of the melody and asked the player's name, and the voice was interrupted ... and then she reluctantly answered. We moved the boat closer to hers, invited her to join us, and summoned more wine and lanterns to start our party again. However, before she came to us, we called a thousand times and urged her for a thousand times, but she still hid half of her face behind her guitar from us. ... she turned the tuning pin and tested several strings, and even before she played, we could feel her feelings. Every string is a kind of meditation, and every note is a kind of deep thinking, as if she were telling us the pain of her life. She frowned, bent her fingers, and then started her music, letting her heart share everything with us bit by bit. She brushed the strings, slowly twisted, swept and plucked, first the air in the rainbow skirt, then the six small ones. Big strings hum like rain, and small strings whisper like secrets. Humming, whispering-and then mixing together, like pouring large and small pearls into a plate of jade. Between Guan Ying's words, the bottom of the flower is slippery, so you can't swallow the spring scenery and flow under the ice. The ice spring is cold and astringent, and the strings condense, and the condensation will never stop. The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice. A silver vase suddenly burst, pouring out a stream of water, jumping out of the conflict and blow between armored horses and weapons. Before she put down the pick, her stroke was over, and all four strings made a sound, just like tearing silk. The east ship was silent, and the west ship was silent. We saw the white autumn moon entering the river.
She tied it thoughtfully on the rope, stood up and smoothed her clothes, serious and polite. Tell us how she spent her girlhood in the capital and lived in her parents' house in Toad Hill. She mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen, and her name ranked first in the list of musicians. Her art even attracted the appreciation of experts, and her beauty attracted the envy of all major dancers. How did the aristocratic youths in Wuling compete generously? Countless red silks were given to a song. The silver comb inlaid with shells was broken by her rhythm, and the bloody skirt was stained with wine. Season after season, joy followed, and neither the autumn moon nor the spring breeze attracted her attention. Until her brother went to war, and then her aunt died, and the night passed, and the night came, and her beauty disappeared. Lengma was at the door, so at last she gave her wife to a businessman. Who, first of all, stole money, accidentally left her and went to Fuliang to buy tea a month ago. She has been taking care of an empty boat in the estuary, with no companions except the bright moon and cold water. Sometimes in the middle of the night, she dreams of her victory and is awakened from her dream by her hot tears.
Her first guitar note made me sigh. Now, after listening to her story, I feel even sadder. We were all unhappy until the end of the day, when we met. We understand. What is the relationship between acquaintances? ! A year ago, I left the capital and came here. Now I am a sick Jiujiang exile. Jiujiang is so far away that I haven't heard music, neither strings nor bamboo sounds for a whole year. My residence is near the town by the river, low and humid, and the house is surrounded by bitter reeds and yellow rushes. What can you hear here in the morning and evening? ? The cuckoo's bleeding cry, the ape's sobbing. I often pick up the wine and drink it alone in the spring morning with flowers and the autumn night with moonlight shining. Of course, there are folk songs and bagpipes in the village, but they are rough and harsh, and they are harsh in my ears. Tonight, when I heard you playing the guitar, I felt that my hearing was illuminated by wonderful music. Don't leave us. Come, sit down. Play it for us again. Translate the travel notes of pipa for you. ... she was moved by my words, stood there for a while, and then sat down to play her strings-they sounded even sadder. Although the tune was different from what she had played before, all the listeners covered their faces. But which of them cried the most? ? This Jiujiang official. My blue sleeves are wet.
Bai Juyi (772-846), a native of Xinzheng, Henan Province, was born in Taiyuan, Lotte, Xiangshan, and drunk. [ 1]? He was a great realistic poet in the Tang Dynasty and one of the three great poets in the Tang Dynasty. Bai Juyi and Yuan Zhen * * * advocated the new Yuefu movement, and together with Liu Yuxi, they called the world "Bai Yuan" and "Bai Liu".
Bai Juyi's poems have a wide range of themes, diverse forms and simple and popular language, and are known as "the poet's magic" and "the king of poets". Official to Hanlin bachelor, Zuo Zanshan doctor. In 846 AD, Bai Juyi died in Luoyang and was buried in Xiangshan. Up to now, there are Bai's "Changqing Collection", and the representative works include Song of Eternal Sorrow, Charcoal Man, Pipa Travel and so on.