Approaching Bai Juyi
Not everyone can have a perfect life. Sometimes, the beginning is beautiful, but the ending is often regrettable, otherwise there is no such thing as God's will to trick people. Bai Juyi's light once illuminated the sky of the Tang Dynasty, but for a while, he himself was groping in the darkness, confused and not knowing the direction.
The first time I got to know Bai Juyi was the song "The Charcoal Seller" that was easy to understand but full of worries for the people when I was in junior high school. The idea of ??"composing" is quite consistent, and I have an inexplicable affection for this kind poet. Later, when I read "Song of Everlasting Sorrow", my admiration surged up again, because of all things in the world, the one that wins my heart the most is talent. Although Bai Juyi's two words are limited by the times and his personal ideas, the concern for the country that spreads on the paper and the sigh of love that is concentrated on the pen are beyond the reach of ordinary people.
The Xiangshan layman is affectionate. When I encountered the large-scale live dance drama "Song of Everlasting Sorrow" at the Huaqing Palace in Xi'an this summer, I became even more fond of this affectionate man in history. The dance drama uses Lishan Mountain as the background and Huaqing Pond and Jiulong Lake as the stage. The gorgeous atmosphere of the Tang Dynasty blooms like gorgeous flowers in the night sky. The screenwriters and actors, holding the historical content in one hand and the modern form in the other, performed "Song of Everlasting Sorrow" perfectly. I think Bai Juyi understands love, otherwise how could the affection in his writings flow out like a clear spring, and how could it burn our already vicissitudes of heart like magma?
They say that there is a shadow of Bai Juyi in "Song of Everlasting Sorrow", and the girl next door Xiang Ling once bloomed in the poet's eyes like a white lotus. At that time, the poet was 19 years old and she was 15 years old. The love nurtured by the innocent age is the most real and unforgettable. Unfortunately, a talented man often has an unreasonable mother behind him. This is the case for Lu You and Ju Yi, " The tears in my eyes are so cold that I turn back every time I pass by a high place. I know that I should be alone on the west tower after farewell. "The last two sentences are an imaginary picture. Xiang Ling should be on the west tower in the distance. Leaning on the railing, I miss myself alone. Chewing such verses, I feel a sense of sourness in my heart. That Xiangshan layman with both talents and talents must have been miserable and sad at the moment when he was pregnant with someone late at night.
Bai Juyi was thirty-three years old and worked as a school clerk in Chang'an. When he once again begged his mother to allow him to marry Xiang Ling, his mother, who was very sectarian, rejected his request. They were not allowed to see each other when the family moved out. Before leaving, Bai Juyi quietly went to say goodbye to Miss Xiangling. For fear of disturbing others, the two of them neither dared to speak nor cry. The extremely suppressed pain and depression were all reflected in the poem "Quiet Parting". Bai Juyi wrote: "Not allowed to cry, hidden parting, speechless, secretly missing each other, no one knows outside the two hearts. A solitary bird locked in a deep cage at night, The sharp sword cuts off the branches in spring. Although the river is turbid and the sun is clear, and the bird's head is black and white, we can only hide and say goodbye. "Reading the love history of the ancients, I always think that ruthless people are decisive and passionate. He is too cowardly, and love is like paper, always being riddled with holes.
When Bai Juyi was born, Li Bai died ten years ago and Du Fu died two years ago. The times need great poets, and Bai Juyi was at the right time. He indeed created poems that are unparalleled throughout the ages. Unfortunately, he was too talented and unlucky. In the future, he fell into the partisanship between Niu and Li and suffered greatly. He was demoted again and again in his political career, and his beloved daughter Jin Luanzi's death He died young and spent three years in Weicun surrounded by poverty and illness... allowing him to entertain himself in prostitution, poetry and wine, leaving something to talk about for future generations.
Even so, I still love Bai Juyi, and I think of the poem I chanted when I was young: "The grass grows in Liliyuan, and it withers and grows with each passing year. The wildfire cannot burn it out, but the spring breeze blows and grows again." I read it at that time. I just feel the entrance is hearty, sonorous and melodious. Now think about it carefully, what kind of smug youthful feelings did the sixteen-year-old Bai Juyi look down on the world with? In his eyes, everything in the world is perfect, no matter the natural laws of prosperity and decline. , or the external destructive act of "burning" with fire, the weeds can rely on the tenacity of life to compete with the world. Those are the innocent words of a heart that has not experienced the hardships of the world. The youthful vigor is The same thing that I once appreciated when I was young.
Not everyone’s life can be perfect.
Sometimes, the beginning is beautiful, but the ending is often regrettable, otherwise there is no such thing as God's will to trick people. Bai Juyi's light once illuminated the sky of the Tang Dynasty, but for a while, he himself was groping in the darkness, confused and not knowing the direction.
Approaching Wang Wei
In the dead of night, holding a book in hand, leaning against the window, watching the darkness under the neon lights alone.
My mind is filled with his poems and paintings, and the moving birdsong and wind sound everywhere in the paintings; I smell it, and I seem to smell the fragrance of Xinyi flowers again. He must be one of the bright neon lights in this dark night.
He is one of the many poets in the prosperous period of the Tang Dynasty. His poems do not have the boldness and arrogance of Li Bai, the melancholy and pauses of Du Fu, and the plainness and simplicity of Bai Juyi, but he still has thousands of poems. Thousands of "fans" are obsessed with his poems and paintings.
"The accumulated rain is late in the forest, and the fireworks are late, and the quinoa is steaming and cooking. The egrets are flying in the desert paddy fields, and the yellow orioles are singing in the overcast summer trees." But his poems should have paintings in them, and sounds in the paintings ( Music) Yeah!
At some point, I put down the book in my hand and picked up the foamy tea cup, recalling my hometown. The poems in my mind were stagnant in the ocean of memories. I saw the pictures in his poems, and also saw my hometown: the rain had been falling for several days in a row, and the weeds in the sky and the earth took advantage of the situation to grow a lot, and it rained one by one. On a drizzling morning, the men in the village couldn't bear to be idle. They walked towards the fields to the east of the village wearing raincoats and hats and hoes on their shoulders.
The humidity in the air made the woman who was cooking at home anxious. She was eager to prepare the meal early and give it to the men working in the fields, but the smoke still rose slowly and slowly. disappear. The woman opened the lid of the pot and steamed the rice with quinoa and noodles. It was delicious. The woman hummed happily, put the rice in a bowl, put it in a bamboo basket, twisted her waist, gently smoothed her messy hair, and walked briskly to the fields. The woman was walking on the path in the field and saw a man working hard in the distance, plowing the land. Behind him were egrets that lowered their heads to eat. Oriole calls came from the woods beside the field. She looked at the man's cheerful face, The woman softly called to the man: The food is here, take a rest...
When the man raised his head and wiped his sweat, he saw the woman approaching, so he walked over obediently, with a simple and honest smile, and sat on the field stalk. Go up to the shade of the trees and have a big meal...
What a beautiful pastoral life, where men farm and women weave, without the intrigues of official circles, without all the darkness of the secular world. He must also envy this kind of life, otherwise, he would not be half-official and half-hidden. He was appointed to the position of Minister Youcheng. He had lofty ambitions and wanted to contribute to the prosperity of the country, so he was reluctant to leave the officialdom, but he also hated the darkness of the officialdom, so he lived in seclusion in the mountains while serving as an official. He cultivated himself in the mountains and forests, so some people called him the Poetic Buddha.
In the mountains, I quietly watch the hibiscus trees, and in the Qingzhai under the pine tree, I fold the dew sunflowers. He envied rural life and often watched farm life. The contradiction in his heart was that he longed for it but could not. To nourish one's nature in the mountains, watch the morning hibiscus bloom in the morning and fade in the evening; Panasonic is a vegetarian, and the dew and sunflower do not touch the smell of meat. It is enough to prove that he cultivated himself and worshiped the Buddha, soothing his spirit in the Buddha to fill the emptiness of reality.
The sky gradually brightened, and the neon lights went out one by one, just like the rise and fall of the Tang Dynasty. At that moment, it was already a thousand years later. He was also drowned in the violent winds and waves that destroyed the Tang Dynasty, and disappeared without a trace. But his poems have been handed down forever.
Approaching Xin Qiji
Jia Xuan is a hero among men and a dragon among poets.
Xin Qiji, who is as famous as Su Shi in literature, although he does not have Su Shi's magnanimous and unrestrained open mind, is still a promising young man full of enthusiasm. When Xin Qiji was young, he witnessed with his own eyes the humiliation and pain suffered by the Han people under the rule of the Jin people. When the Han people rose up to resist because they could not bear the harsh oppression of the Jin people, the 21-year-old Xin Qiji also gathered 2,000 people to participate in the A massive rebel army led by Geng Jing. On his way back from completing his mission, he heard the news that Geng Jing had been killed by the traitor Zhang Anguo and the rebel army was defeated. He led more than fifty people to attack the enemy camp, captured the traitor and brought him back to Jiankang, where he was handed over to the Southern Song Dynasty court for execution.
I know that you have made a new work for me, and the windows show the Qingjiang River. A little awe-inspiring spirit, a thousand miles of joyful wind. "When he was demoted to Hainan, he wrote: "When I first arrived in Hainan, when I looked around the sky and water, I felt sad and said: When will I get to this island? I just thought about it, the heaven and the earth are in the sky and the water. The island is in the Yinghai Sea, and China is in the Shaohai Sea. Who among the living is not on the island? You can laugh when you think about this. "While working, he felt that his work was rewarded, and he was happy in his heart. He wrote: "A certain person is now planting rice on Dongpo. He enjoys his hard work. He has five houses, dozens of fields of fruit tea, and more than a hundred mulberry trees. He cultivates his wife's silkworms and chats with her about her death. "It can be seen that he is still optimistic and open-minded about life in the face of adversity.
When it comes to Su Dongpo, people know that he is unbridled and unbridled. His clear and fluent prose is also called "Su Ou" with Ouyang Xiu. He is fresh and bold. Jian's unique style of poem is called "Su Huang" together with Huang Tingjian.
It also writes about Yanghua. Peng Wuxun has "little hanging works in the countryside, the snow is soft and the pines are moist, and I shed tears for Jun Xiang." ", and Su Shi sang on the way to being demoted: "I hate that these flowers have flown away, I hate the Western Garden, the river is full of difficulties, the rain has passed, where are the traces? A pond is buried in pieces, the spring scenery is three parts, and the dust is two parts. A drop of water. If you look closely, you can see that they are not Yanghua, but the tears of Li Ren. "He writes about flowers as well as people, and his graceful and graceful style is truly unique.
It is also about praising plum blossoms. Wu Wenying said at the Canghai Pavilion: "Re-singing the new song beside the plum blossoms is a great reminder. Winter plum and frozen pistil. "Lu You once wrote in the street: "Beside the broken bridge outside the post office, I am lonely and without an owner. It is already dusk and I am sad alone, with more wind and rain. There is no intention of struggling for spring, and once everyone is jealous. It fell into mud and was crushed into dust, but only the fragrance remained the same. "Su Dongpo said tactfully: "The sorrow and dew of the boneless person, the ice posture has its own fairy style. When the sea fairy is sent to explore the fragrant bushes, the phoenix falls on the green grass. The plain face is turned into feathers, the pink is too wet, the red lips do not fade away after washing the makeup, the high emotion has chased the dawn sky, and I don't dream with the pear blossoms. "
Also writing about spring, Huang Tingjian happily composed a poem while strolling by the corner: "Where does spring go? There is no way to travel in loneliness. If someone knows where spring goes, who knows when he calls his husband back to wish him spring without a trace? Unless you ask about the oriole, no one can decipher its hundreds of chirps, because the wind flies over the roses. When Su Dongpo was walking among the trees, he wrote: "The flowers have faded and are red and green, and the apricots are small. When the swallows fly, the green water is surrounded by people, and there are few willows blowing on the branches. There is no fragrant grass anywhere in the world." "
He is talented, his poems and prose are different, and he has unique insights.
In the desolate desert, he wrote an inscription: "The aura of greatness does not stand based on shape, does not rely on strength. Walking does not rely on life to survive, and does not perish with death. Therefore, in the sky, it is a star, in the earth, it is a prison, in the dark, it is a ghost, and in the bright, it is a human being. This principle is normal and is not surprising. "On the edge of the Yellow River, he roared out an eternal song: "The great river goes eastward, and the waves are gone, and there are romantic figures throughout the ages. "It is enough to see his optimism and heroism. Under the moonlight, he murmured in a low voice: "I hope that people will live forever, thousands of miles away from the beauty of the moon, people will be pessimistic, and the moon will wax and wane. "At the foot of the mountain, he left: "Looking at it from the side, it looks like a ridge and a peak on the side, with different heights near and far. I don’t know the true face of Mount Lu, just because I am in this mountain. "What he left to future generations is his last song, a peaceful yet heroic poem.
Reading his graceful poems, I feel like a spring breeze, and the whole body feels refreshed when the breeze blows on my face.
When reading his poems, I feel like the roaring river flowing eastward to the ocean with thunderous momentum, like thousands of horses galloping across the grassland.
While reading his poems, I understood his optimistic attitude in dealing with things, his open-mindedness in the face of adversity, and his "Don't make assumptions about things, but take them for granted." "" Perseverance, read that he "sends a flying otter in the world, a drop in the ocean." "I understand him...
Hope to adopt O(∩_∩)O Thank you