I know Mr. Wang's name. It was in the 197s. A neighbor and I went to his father-in-law's house in the county, and two calligraphy and paintings in the main room attracted me. The painting is a landscape made by the late old painter Mr. Dong Tiande, and the couplet is written by Mr. Shangguan. Its word says: Don't say that there is no hidden danger in fishing and salt, and now the hero is half-owned by business. Although the content was against the historical trend at that time, I like it. Moreover, through the introduction of my neighbor, I have never forgotten my husband's name and this couplet since then.
time flies, and it's the 198s. It was about the spring of' 83. I worked as a painter in Zhangdian township government. There are also several brands, which I hired a writer in the village after painting. I saw that the handwriting was good and asked others before I knew it was Mr. Shangguan. At that time, someone took a piece of paper to let Mr. Wang write, and I got one, begging Mr. Wang to leave a Mo Bao. Mr. Wang did not refuse, but with a stroke of a pen, it became in an instant: "Five thousand volumes of intestinal text, try to cool the first one." The word is what I think. There was no rice paper at that time, so it was written on watercolor paper. The vicissitudes of life, after several turns, are no longer there!
in the late 198s, when I came to the county seat, I had more contacts with people in the cultural circles. Over time, he and his husband also had some payback. Just busy making a living, there are not many opportunities to meet.
I love poetry, and my husband is good at chanting. Our communication often depends on this. I have read some of Mr. Wang's works, mostly for memorizing poems. Describe the beauty of mountains and rivers and the historical vicissitudes of places of interest with true feelings and personal experience.
when Mr. Wang was eighty years old, I heard that people in the painting and calligraphy circles were going to celebrate his birthday. I once told Mr. Lu Mu, a fellow villager and a great calligrapher, to call me then. But he didn't call me (that is, where can I find it! ）。 I was busy with business every day, and I didn't remember the exact date. When I thought about it later, I didn't know that my birthday had passed until I asked.
I have written several poems to my husband intermittently. Because I am ashamed of the ugliness of pen and ink, I am not shaped by calligraphy. It was only last year that they were all published in the second book of Chinese poems. Three of them are written like this:
To Mr. Shangguan Hualong
One
I love Mr. Wu's humble abode, and the ink-scented books smell like Chai Fei.
guests come to * * * to taste the clay pot, but people go to spring to warm the crane.
Shake your wrists, make tigers and leopards soar in your chest, and admire wheatgrass in your poems.
Qihua Yaocao is planted at will, and the scenery in the yard is forgotten.
2
The golden wind is rustling in autumn, and the dream outside the fence is safe.
He Qintai came to yan zhen and brought chrysanthemum wine to Qianchuan.
Frost roots have been used to wind and rain for a long time, so it's hard to leave the mud road in distress.
the old boy with blond hair can't be idle, and he spends another year splashing ink.
three
dish out a pair of peaches to celebrate the birthday, and relax and laugh at the spring breeze.
To celebrate the Happy New Year with great enthusiasm, and to express friendship by air.
pine and cypress grow stronger with thousands of frost, and poetry and books are refined and refined.
it's not far from knowing the future, and people are attracted by Guoguang to see the big stars.
after the book arrived, I sent a copy to my husband. Without taking the liberty and overreaching, he wrote these three little poems on a two-foot rice paper in the form of an ugly book, and they are still posted on the back wall of his desk until now.
Mr. Wang is knowledgeable, quick-thinking, with a good family background and a good foundation in ancient Chinese. Unfortunately, he lost his job in 2. In the 195s, he was exiled to Qinghai for trumped-up historical crimes. At the foot of Kunlun Mountain, the wild land at that time suffered from untold hunger, cold and hunger. But it also honed his will, so that he can laugh at bad luck, face life directly and be happy with it in the future life journey.
Now, although Mr. Wang is 86 years old, he is still in good health, getting stronger and stronger, and doing well in his old age. I write at home in the morning and visit friends by bike in the afternoon. My life is very regular. I have been to his house many times, narrow paths, old houses and old houses, giving people a very heavy cultural atmosphere. There are many kinds of Qihua Yaocao in the yard, all of which are put aside at will and left to grow freely. No matter who comes here, they will feel a poetic atmosphere and the great beauty of serenity.
Cao Mengde has a poem that says, "An old horse is riding high, and he is aiming at a thousand miles; The martyr's next year is full of courage. " Mr. Yu, it can be said that it is appropriate.