I held the dirt in my hand devoutly, and my father hesitated several times. Concern and worry have long been beyond words. In the end, he said nothing, but I knew it in my heart. My hometown has the custom of enriching soil, that is, people who are far away from home can carry some soil from their hometown with them, which can adapt to and overcome many inconveniences caused by climatic conditions in different places. I didn't say anything, for fear of saying too much, which added a melancholy and a concern to the other party. Instead, I solemnly put it in my close-fitting pocket, packed my bags and bid farewell to my father, the hometown where I was born and raised, and resolutely embarked on the road of going north to study.
I don't know if it's because I brought this bag of soil or because I'm adaptable. During my four years in Beijing, I successfully completed my college studies in the sandstorm of early spring in the north, the heat in midsummer, the coolness in autumn and the heavy snow in severe winter. I have never been ill in bed except for my chapped lips when I first arrived here.
When I was in college in Beijing, I opened the bag of dirt more than once-whenever I was deeply homesick and obsessed with my hometown, was my long-lost hometown still there, and was my loved ones vaguely concerned about in my dreams healthy and alive? In this way, I miss my hometown thousands of miles away and my relatives in my hometown.
Whenever I open the bag wrapped in mud, a shallow talk and warm local flavor come to my face, which is intoxicating. It makes people feel as if they are in a field with ridges of grass, rice and wild flowers, listening to the barking of chickens and dogs in villages far and near, watching the smoke curling on the fish scales and tiles, and thinking about all the plots contained in the land where I was born and raised ... The scene at this time makes people feel uneasy, and a feeling of happiness and satisfaction flows all over the body.
Now, I have graduated from college and returned to work in my hometown. But I have always treasured that bag of haunting soil, because it has special commemorative significance for me. It is it that makes me feel the breath of my hometown in Beijing and brings me closer to my hometown thousands of miles away. It was it that accompanied me through the precious four years of college and relieved me of my loneliness and boredom in a foreign land.
Hometown, native land, I will never forget your feeling of dreaming of God.
Hometown lyric prose 2 came to the campus and left the campus.
Five years of wandering finally returned to my native land, which gave me difficulties and bumps; It is a surprise and a deep attachment.
In the early morning, I said goodbye to the class teacher. When my classmates saw me on the bus, I couldn't help shaking hands with my classmates.
There is only a vague shadow left in the campus. I hope they (my good friends-Ping and Rui) will come, and I hope they won't. Leaning against the window, contradictory period, etc ... The train keeps moving forward and passes through the pines and cypresses on both sides. I don't know who is at home. The chrysanthemums on the edge of the lawn show me pink yellow, and under the gentle touch of the breeze, they are smiling dimples. I smiled at her with tears of gratitude, as if it were spring. Is it to meet a wandering wanderer?
At this time, the train has been accelerating. With the rolling of the train, the wind kept waving fingers, pulling my short hair and scattering strings of notes to the flowers and trees on the roadside. To my surprise, they can understand the invisible palace tune, nod silently and communicate with each other. Are you happy that I came back to Xun?
Mother, my dear motherland. A wandering wanderer will come back to you soon! You should blame me for not coming back successfully. However, you smiled. Is it an ingot that I miss for many days? I feel deep love in your wrinkled smile. Like a clear spring flowing slowly in my heart.
Oh! Mother, please forgive my youth and ignorance! Let me fall into your arms.
Mother hugged me tightly with her broad arms and body, and gently stroked me in her eyes: what flashed was surprise, the excitement of fanatical rain; This is charity, this is love. Mother kissed me with her reddish lips and then gave me a gentle hug. I can feel my mother's warm body from my touching arm. Lying in my mother's fragrant arms.
My heart is full of things, but it is empty when I say it. Only tears can make it look so real.
I once wanted to build a house, which straddles the banks of the Jiang Xiu River and stands at the top of Phoenix Mountain. I installed a huge telescope in the house, looked at the passing cars and people, found out the passers-by I once knew in the bustling crowd, and found out the traces of my stay. I want to listen to their old-fashioned conversations, strike up a conversation with them and kiss my hometown with their local accent.
From Ning Hongqiao to Huang Tingjian Memorial Hall, I have my pure lover and my clever dream. In high school, I have been wandering in the river wind and occasionally climbed up the undulating arms. Once, the teacher said that Huang Tingjian was a celebrity and a benchmark of water cultivation culture. I have always been longing for literature and art. On weekends, I immediately take the No.6 bus and walk up the Jiangxiu River to enjoy the beautiful scenery, clear water and blue sky, and the reflection of mountains, just like dreaming. When I got to ninghongqiao, I couldn't help getting off. I have to cross the river across the banks, blowing the gentle river wind and watching the endless microwave water.
When you get off the bus, what you see and think is far from an artistic conception. Beautiful, really beautiful, and the beautiful scenery I saw far exceeded my expectations. Standing on the Gao Qiao, there are mountains on both sides and green running water below. On the clear water, two pontoons are rippling in the microwave. At this moment, they are like girls waving their arms at me, leading me to visit step by step.
I am like a lost butterfly. The whole river seems to be a bizarre aquatic world, and I am lost in the path along the river. In this fascinating world, I saw a towering roof in the distance. I was wondering what it was, so I heard the bell and followed the sound. It turned out to be an ancient temple, Yunyan Temple. When I saw the name of the ancient temple clearly among the trees, I stopped because I had to go to the Huang Tingjian Memorial Hall to find the sacred temple in my heart. I wanted to feel the influence of its calligraphy and book fragrance.
I am here. I should walk through that door. I gradually fell into chaos. Because of me, I can't read every painting and poem on the wall, and I don't even know the words carved on the stone wall. How confused I was at that time. I seem to be an old man who has learned a lot, but suddenly I was laughed at by children. So jealous, so angry. From then on, I told myself not to focus on superficial words, but to do more exploration of Chinese studies. There is no end to learning, you can't just dabble, you are self-righteous.
I gradually feel that this deep land has accumulated too many profound meanings for me. Every time I read an article and write a paragraph, I want to apply it to the mountains, waters and trees along the Jiang Xiu River to describe their graceful posture. This is a world like oil painting, with the colors of the four seasons. In the past three years, I have been bathed in the river wind for countless times, admired Lu Zhi's poems for countless times, and looked at his majestic statue, which made me seem to see a different dawn.
I left and came to the arms of Jiangnong, but I will never forget the beautiful scenery of Jiang Xiu and its enlightenment to my life. The road may have an end, but there is no end to learning. I believe that one day, I can read the words carved on the stone wall, at least now I can understand a little rhythm. Nowadays, nostalgia can make people cry, but it can't replace nostalgia.
In my impression, the mountains in my hometown are beautiful. On the road, the bluestone is covered with green grass, which looks green from a distance. The water in the lake is also very clear. Standing on the shore, you can easily see the sand, fish and shrimp below, and you can't help but catch a few carefree and happy people to enjoy happiness in this land.
When you step into the village, you can sometimes hear chickens and dogs barking, which is the loudest music in the village. There is also a flock of sheep, tender and tender, who like to eat grass best. I accidentally turned into the wheat field and munched on the wheat seedlings on the road.
Walking in the village, children will fight from time to time, which is the most common thing, and most adults will laugh it off, because here, neighbors get along well. The simple folk custom of "the master is in trouble and the western family helps" moistens the hearts of the villagers. On weekdays, when everyone is free, they often get together to talk about short things about their parents and talk and laugh.
Who just raised a small animal? Soon there will always be many children nearby to see some strange things. No matter what happens in the village, there will be a group of people watching, and everyone has been so free.
The apricot tree in front of the house is often visited by children when the fruit is not ripe, but it is still fruitful until the apricot is ripe.
Time passed day by day. Unconsciously, the mountains in my hometown are no longer green, the bluestone has long been artificially smoothed, and the gap in the middle is filled with cement, which has become an artificial landscape. The potholed dirt road has been paved with cement, and even the grass with the strongest vitality can't break through the ground. The lake is getting lighter and lighter, leaving only a shallow bottom. I don't want to stay on it for long.
The sound of chickens and dogs has disappeared, replaced by the sound of car horns. One after another, people get together and bow their heads to play with their mobile phones. Everyone knows that there is a beautiful world outside the mobile phone, and so are adults and children. Holding a smart phone, watching movies or playing video games, I can't wait to get into the phone. The apricot tree in front of the house is there, but there are no children's voices.
I can't help asking: What's wrong with the world? Where have the scenes and familiar voices gone? I can't give an answer. Although the past is in blowing in the wind, I am still dreaming.
Although the sun is still warm and blue, I still feel the chill of winter.
The puppy seems to know something, jumping around almost all the time, and looking up from time to time and staring at my every move with critical eyes. Stupid is nothing like a dog or an elf. I really doubt whether it is the reincarnation of an ancestor mentioned in Buddhist books. ...
Only marigold is still blooming in the garden. Their extraordinary cold tolerance and endurance really impressed me.
The leaves of the lilac tree are frozen green, not green, not red, not red, and the edges are all dry.
The leaves of honeysuckle are much richer than the green in autumn, yellow, red and purple, hanging down from the eaves like ribbons.
In Ye Er, the apple trees, peach trees and jujube trees in the garden are colorful, showing the calm and dignified weather-beaten.
Looking at everything in the garden, I am surrounded by deep attachment and sadness! We will move out of the garden we have worked so hard to manage. Although I strongly imagine that our future residence may be much more leisurely and comfortable than the present garden, plus the warmth with the children. But I still really miss my quiet and elegant garden. There are many years of hard work here, every flower and fruit tree here, every flower and grass, every arrangement at home and outside the yard, all of which are the crystallization of our family's joint efforts!
More than 20 days have passed, and every nerve of mine is mercilessly affected by this fact. My undeveloped brain is completely controlled by the fact that the garden has been sold, so I can't write a few words online, and I can't calm down and pay a return visit to my tutor. I'm really confused ...
From the beginning, I was anxious about the landing of the garden, and then I was busy preparing for the messy move. Every day, even in the evening, I have to meet my relatives and friends in the guest house and make time to plan the necessities I need to take away. ...
We are about to leave my hometown where I was born and raised. Although my hometown is a little barren, she raised me. Although I have had unforgettable pain here, she is the place where I was born and raised after all. Here are my childhood friends, here are my childhood classmates, here are my relatives and friends, and here are my deceased relatives! Here is my youth innocence, here is my poverty and illness hardships, here is my heartache stumbling, here is my regret that I can't change, all the hardships and hardships here, all the rights and wrongs, all the human feelings are warm and cold, which makes me miserable and unforgettable! ! How many hardships have given me a profound understanding of life and become an indelible classic in my life.
I am about to leave my hometown. How many bittersweet hometowns I have had made it so difficult for me to give up, and the garden I worked so hard to manage made me cry. ...
Six days ago, I strolled into a village temple fair with a poor literary friend and saw dozens of wives and old men sitting in the theater, silently watching operas. On the sidelines, there are urchins chasing and playing. On the other hand, the civilian military commanders on the stage are also full of energy and prestige, stepping on the board, following the Ninth Five-Year Plan, pointing out the mountains and rivers, and making great achievements. But looking at the scenes on and off the stage, what I think in my heart is that the people are suffering. Where is this entertainment booming!
Wenyou seems very confused, too. I think he is puzzled and asked the old people in front why there are so few theaters.
Alas, how can there be many? Several old people sighed, then you say something, I say something, I should answer something, and everyone who may have left has left. Alas, we are the only ones left in the village. Besides, Erge cultivated land, after a year, even the capital can't be pulled back. But people always have to live and support their families. If children and daughters-in-law don't go out to make a living, the whole family will have to wait until they die.
Wen Youxiang recognized the interest, and then asked, can you still afford this troupe and make it prosperous?
This can't say that we can't afford it, nor can we say that we want to be prosperous or something. An old man who looks a little literate frowned and sighed bitterly. Alas, his children left their homes for a family, worked outside, lived in ignorance and suffered from death. Old bones, who is about to be buried, can't help them, but look after their children. My heart is really full of panic. Therefore, the dancers of the troupe were invited to make sacrifices at this temple fair. We don't ask for anything else, just for their luck, just for God's hometown to bless them to go home safely. ...
At this time, I saw that Wenyou didn't know the depth and wanted to nag. I quickly tugged at his clothes, suggesting that he could no longer embarrass the old people.
When I returned to this city in the afternoon, my friends were deeply moved by what they saw and heard. But it was brought into deep sorrow by the deserted theater and the helplessness and anxiety of the old people.
Throughout the ages, it is said that it is difficult to leave home. Now, facing the real life in front of me, I bring up this topic again, and an unspeakable mood suddenly comes to my mind. I don't know whether to be sweet or sad. I think this topic is too heavy and contains too many problems.
Therefore, when the lost villages passed silently in front of my eyes, I really seemed to see my hometown where I was born and raised. I really saw the lonely and stubborn figures of the old people who stayed silently in the desolate yellow land of their hometown, coming to me clearly again and again. ...
I remember that with the advent of reform and opening up, many folk customs that have been lost for a long time because of the revolution have been gradually lifted one by one, and they are blooming like flowers in beautiful nature in the warm spring breeze. Until the mid-to-late 1990s, there were countless wonderful and joyful experiences in the hometown and surrounding villages on the yellow land. Once in any market town or temple fair, hardworking and kind people from generation to generation will always forget their hard work all the year round, forget the burden of life, or smile, or sing and dance, and happily flock to that bustling place. Especially around the Spring Festival, in the ravines and on the promontories, gongs and drums were loud, and people shouted horses. The wild and unrestrained northern Shaanxi Yangko, while releasing the tenderness and pride of farmers' children, became popular and sang the hearts of all farmers. ...
Farmers and grain producers, under the blue sky, finally got away from the natural and man-made disasters of hunger and got a bumper harvest of free farming and sowing. The countryside, the granary on which human beings depend for survival, has gradually become charming in the process of political harmony and favorable weather, just like a beautiful girl.
However, I never imagined that all kinds of rumbling machines ruthlessly shattered the colorful dreams of villages and farmers. Hometown, as if under the great prosperity of expressway and the railway leading to modern civilization and modern city, can no longer carry anything. It seems that day by day, I once again fell into new poverty and new desolation. Therefore, a new generation of peasant brothers, after countless years of self-satisfaction, in a kind of painful groan like gouging out their hearts, watched the reinforced concrete devour a large area of fertile land day by day, and no longer wanted to bury themselves in the land that raised themselves and raised mankind. Therefore, after experiencing the pain of remolding their dreams again and again, they gritted their teeth, bid farewell to their parents and children, bid farewell to their hometown in tears, formed an army of migrant workers in droves, flocked to the bustling city where money flowed day and night, and clumsily translated the revolutionary historical story of rural encircling the city into a modern legendary story of migrant workers encircling the city.
And those five good members who used to sing about sleeping on kang, hoarding food and carrying coolies can only stay in that dreamy hometown with their faltering wives and grandchildren, day after day, month after month, year after year, looking at that barren land with a pale face. It is often until the sun goes down that grandchildren wake up from that confused look and invite them to dinner with a pair of childish and melancholy eyes.
So, at dusk in my hometown, I only saw familiar village roads, and occasionally lonely and shadowless watchmen passed by.
And no one knows what these watchmen are thinking when they face their hometown every day. Perhaps, they are thinking that their home will soon become barren; Perhaps, they are thinking that it rains and snows in the sky, which has become a folk custom under the meal and will really become a reality; Perhaps, they are thinking, the school demolished by the government in the village is ringing again, and grandchildren are trained in the classroom; Perhaps, they are thinking that the year is approaching, and their children and daughters-in-law are all blushing and happy to return to their side; Maybe, maybe they didn't think of anything ...
Pursuing prosperity, advocating modernity, looking forward to a bright future and enjoying a happy life will always be the ideal extreme of human struggle, and there is nothing wrong with it. However, is it reinforced concrete that human beings depend on for survival? Or the number of stock index periods? Or food that must be imported every day? When all the land on the earth, behind our crazy pursuit of material enjoyment, was quietly submerged, and the last person left behind in the world was buried by towering high-rise buildings, I was thinking, can we, who have always been hailed as great human beings, really be like that robot after that last dinner, and never need to eat or drink again?
Oh, my hometown, my native land, you are my eternal concern and hidden pain. I always want to jump into your warm arms and have a deep sleep. Moreover, when I wake up, I can see your natural beauty and quiet beauty again, not just the confused eyes of the night watchman, the shadowless figure …