People think that heaven is a paradise where they can float on the clouds, play in the river, and roam in the mountains. But no matter how beautiful the scenery is, it is meaningless without the comfort of the soul.
Life is in a hurry, and youth is not a period that is easily lost. Youth is also an eternal state of mind. A rosy face, rosy lips, and flexible legs and feet are not all of youth. True youth is a strong will, a high taste of imagination, an abundance of emotions, and a clear and ever-new spring of existence.
The days are always like fine yarn passing through the fingertips, slipping quietly inadvertently. The sorrows and misused injuries of the past have gently passed away under the wash of the fleeting years, while the joy and smiles left behind will remain fresh in the depths of memory for a long time.
If you are an abandoned person, then any stone thrown at you may be something you cherish.
If you are a big tree, sprinkle a piece of green shade; if you are a grass, add a spring color; if you are a bee, brew a sweetness; if you If we are eagles, we will fight for thousands of miles in the sky; let us create brilliance together.
The ocean of life is not like the rippling blue waves of the West Lake. As time goes by, it is sometimes as calm as a mirror, sometimes with splashing waves, and sometimes with giant waves soaring into the sky... After enduring the test of strong winds and waves, people often Will become stronger.
What is happiness? Just cover up your sadness and smile at everyone.
The past is like a song. In the journey of life, despite the ups and downs and regrets, the beauty of youth has not been lost. Believe in yourself, there is always hope. Let us remember that sentence: I will not cry if I miss the sun, otherwise, I will miss the moon and stars.
I really want to get wet in the rain, I really want the rain to wash away those memories. Maybe the rain will wake me up. The feeling of raindrops hitting the face can make people unable to tell whether it is tears or rain, so I can say: boys don’t cry!
Hope comes from disappointment, and perseverance comes from worry. As a poet said: People who feel hungry must digest well, people who feel urgent must be efficient, and people who feel crisis must make rapid progress. .
The drizzle is falling, and in the haziness, I seem to see the lavender lilac flowers swaying gently in the rain. The drizzle sings in the lilac bushes, like smoke and mist, sad and beautiful. The rain and mist condensed on the purple lilac flowers, making them as clear as jade. The lilac rain that cannot be knotted is sad, and the feelings are like water that cannot be knotted. The crystal tears fell quietly, and my thoughts flew into the distance like a rain of lilacs. A little sad, a lonely dream poured into my heart with the continuous rain, and a series of ripples appeared
"All the fragrances swayed and bloomed alone, taking up the charm of the small garden. Sparse shadows slanted across the clear water. The faint fragrance floats in the moonlight at dusk. The frost birds want to steal their eyes first, and the pink butterflies are able to communicate with each other as if they know how to join together. There is no need for the sandalwood board to touch the golden bottle. "In the plum forest where the falling flowers are flying, Lin Bu writes. Even in the Song Dynasty, when the lyrics and music were brilliant, the song "Little Plum in the Mountain Garden" that I composed can still surpass the poetic talents of the ages with its timeless and quiet connotation and elegant elegance, becoming a masterpiece among plum blossoms. And his literary talent and grace, as graceful as a wandering cloud and a wild crane, are still vaguely identifiable even after thousands of years.
This West Lake scholar who lived in the early years of the Northern Song Dynasty was like a lonely cold plum, proud of the snow and frost, isolated from the world, tied to the mountains and rivers, planting plums and raising cranes, as happy as clouds. The unique beauty and charm of Jiangnan nourished him and dyed his outstanding temperament without a trace of fireworks. It's half spring in Gushan, and the fragrance of plum blossoms is coming around the steps. The bamboos are growing gracefully, the snow marks are light, under the cool moonlight, the empty mountains are far away, the white cranes are circling, reciting poems and admiring the plum blossoms, how comfortable, elegant and wonderful it must be! This life of a hermit with no pursuits is really better than that of a god.
For thousands of years, countless people have retreated to the mountains and fields, devoted themselves to self-cultivation, and wanted to become otherworldly hermits.
For example, Tao Yuanming, who picked chrysanthemums in the east fence and took a leisurely stroll in Nanshan, spent the rest of his life in the countryside, planting beans and raising chrysanthemums, tending grass and tending flowers, working at sunrise and resting at sunset, living a peaceful life. And comfortable. "I wake up in the morning to sort out the wasteland and filth, and return with a hoe in the moonlight. The road is narrow and the grass and trees are long, and the evening dew touches my clothes." When reading his poems, it feels like you can see the sun and rain, and feel a warm and familiar local atmosphere.
Lin Bu was different. He grows plum trees. Plum blossoms are noble and aloof, not stained by dust. So his character is different from others. Even hiding seems so different and noble. "However, what suits my aspirations is not a family, nor fame and wealth. I just feel that the green mountains and green waters are suitable for me." This is Lin Bu. A sentence he said inadvertently in his early years laid the foundation for his pure poetic and unique secluded life. And the Gushan where he lived and secluded was connected with historical celebrities such as Su Dongpo and Ouyang Xiu, and eventually became a veritable "famous cultural mountain."
二
At the height of his prime, Lin Bu, who was high-spirited but ambitious, returned to the misty and rainy Jiangnan in anger and despair. The lonely mountain, overgrown with weeds and deserted, delighted Lin Bu with its desolation and silence. "It's not my business to disturb you, I'll stay away from the worldly sentiments!" The words he spoke out loud and clear were like a declaration of war against that era. So he took off his shoes and rolled back his sleeves, built a wall with earth, weaved bamboo as a fence, built a thatch into a room, and lived there with concentration.
It was his loneliness, aloofness and willingness to be indifferent that made him suddenly come up with the idea of ??using plum trees as his soul. He planted countless plum trees around the hut, high and low, stretching to the edge of the West Lake in an orderly manner. Drinking wine, studying ink under the bamboo, singing in the wind under the moon, serving plum blossoms carefully, living a hermit life without competing with the world. And "Exploring the Plum Blossoms on the Solitary Mountain" has since become a scenic spot in the West Lake.
The sparse plum branches, the ink-stained ice soul, the alluring snow, and the deep blue West Lake reflect the calm and calm Lin Hejing in a long gown. Closing my eyes, I can completely imagine what he must have been like back then: beautiful water and lonely mountains, the garden full of silence, isolated from the hustle and bustle. A touch of fluttering catkins fills the air like water, a few branches with tender stamens are drawn into a painting, and the brilliance of plum blossoms dancing in the wind flows... The dusk is gradually rising, the moonlight is cold, and the fragrance is traceless. No wonder Lin Bu, who was strolling there, was full of literary thoughts. With his wonderful strokes, he overwhelmed his poetic talent and sang the plum soul. It is almost difficult for me to tell which one is the plum blossom and which one is Mr. He Jing, among the branches and branches in the sky, clear and fragrant?
If Tao Gong's "hiding" means "a drunkard's intention is not to drink", then Lin Bu's Gushan Plum Grove is a kind of spiritual exile and pursuit without hesitation. His seclusion is in the joy of the fragrance of flowers and the chirping of birds, in the tranquility of the moonlit dusk, and in the tranquility without any pursuit. This is a kind of detached meditation and solitude, an escape from society, a complete abandonment of material desires, a rejection of the market, and a challenge to the world. "The high mansion with purple ribbon is empty of wealth, and the plum blossom wife and crane child are in love." The exquisite plum blossoms and the elegant crane may be the true portrayal of Lin Bu's character.
Three
Planting plum trees, raising cranes, wandering in the forest and ravines, and indulging in the mountains and rivers are the main content of his life and spiritual sustenance after his retirement. "He is unmarried and has no children. He lives with many plum trees and cranes. When he goes boating in the lake, he releases cranes to greet guests when they come, so he is called the plum wife and the son of the crane." This paragraph of the crane is narrated in "Song Shi Chao Lin He Jing Shi Chao Preface" The story of sending a message is novel, interesting and touching. Its authenticity seems to be unimportant. What is important is his unique lifestyle, which has become a popular legend in the poetry world for thousands of years. And the poverty, indifference, calmness and self-preservation of "The green mountains on the lake are opposite the huts, and the bamboos in front of the tombs are also sparse. Maoling will ask for the manuscripts someday, and he is still happy that he once had no Zen book." The poverty and tranquility are even more impressive. Therefore, Lin Bu's life was simply an aloof legend.
Living in the smoke-rich and prosperous Jiangnan, he has not visited Hangzhou for more than 20 years. It can be seen that his mind is as calm as a mirror, and he has entered concentration like an old monk. The so-called prosperity of the city, the worldly fame and wealth, and vulgar wealth seemed to be very light and insignificant in his eyes. Mr. Qiu Yu once said with emotion: "In ancient China, there were many hermits, but Lin Hejing made the hermits truly authentic and beautiful with plum blossoms, white cranes and poems... When he hit a wall and was blocked in the real society, he retreated bravely. It is easiest to pretend to be half Lin Hejing." Therefore, "Mei Zima Hezi" once became synonymous with the highest realm of hermits.
Nowadays, the lonely mountain that has been ravaged by wind and rain is covered with lush green shade and has stood in silence for thousands of years. Along the way, the sparse plum forest is covered with dust, but it is still sloping and clear, with beautiful bones and charm. A thin and steep stone monument, a clump of lush green bamboo and tomb grass, a pure and lonely corner. Every spring the branches are covered with moonlight, and there is cold smoke and snow in front of the steps at sunset. In a trance, there seemed to be a low moan coming through the layers of green ripples. We can vaguely see the noble and pure demeanor, strolling in the courtyard, smiling at the sky in the deep silence of time and space, lying drunk in the shade of flowers, and singing, which has captured the eternal plum soul.
Mom, what can I do to repay you?
Night, silent. After a long day of fatigue, I lay quietly in bed, but I couldn't fall asleep. There is an inexplicable force pulling on my nerves. He lit the lamp, picked up a magazine, and flipped through it aimlessly. "Mother's Heart", I couldn't help but tremble in my heart. As I read it carefully, a story suddenly appeared in front of my eyes.
The story goes like this: A young child unfortunately contracted a strange disease. He sought medical treatment countless times, but was never cured. One day, the child met a witch doctor in a wooden house in the mountains. The witch doctor said, "I can cure your disease, but there must be a medicine to cure it." "Great!" The child was happy. Asked: "What do you want to use as a medicine?" "This disease is difficult to cure. You must use your mother's heart as a medicine." After the child heard this, he hurried home. When it got dark, the child came home and said, "Mom! My disease can be cured!" "Really? That's great!" "But the wizard said that the mother's heart must be used as the medicine." The mother was stunned after hearing this. After a while, he kissed the child's forehead, turned around and walked into the house. After a moment, the child heard the mother's weak voice, "Child, come in!" The child walked into the room. "Take it, this is mother's heart. You can take it to cure the disease." The child held the bright red heart in both hands, turned around and ran towards the wizard. However, the night was too dark, and the child wandered around in the forest, but could not find the wizard's residence. When he got anxious, the child tripped over a branch and started crying. At this time, the mother's heart spoke: "My child, did you feel pain after falling?"...
As I read, my tears fell down, and I was overwhelmed by the huge power of maternal love. Surrounded, unable to control himself.
In a daze, I thought of my mother's caring eyes when I was toddling around; I thought of my mother's figure in the wind and rain every time I went to school and after school; I thought of my mother's haggard face next to the hospital bed every time I fell ill; I thought of my mother's haggard face next to the hospital bed every time I was sick; After every setback, my mother's caring words; I think of my mother's joyful smile and the white hair on her temples when she returns from a long journey. When I grow up day by day and enter the workplace, my mother's heart is always with me. Every time I fall down in life, I seem to hear my mother's voice: "My child, does it hurt?".
Today, my career has gradually developed, my life has become more stable, and I have started to have a family of my own. However, my mother's wrinkles are growing every time I go home. Facing my increasingly aging mother, apart from occasionally going home to see her, chatting with her, and giving her some living expenses, what have I done? My mother's memory gradually declined, her health became worse and worse, and diseases always attacked her every time the seasons changed. However, in the face of all this, will I love her as much as I love my own body?
Yes! I was suddenly surprised. I didn’t go home during the Spring Festival this year. Is my mother in good health? I hurriedly picked up the phone. The night was getting deeper, but the phone only rang twice. My mother's old and kind voice came from the phone. My mood was agitated and the words stuck in my throat. A soft and loving voice said, "Child, is that you?".
Joy and tears spread across my face at the same time...
Mom, what can I do to repay you?
Footprints
If the earth is the manuscript paper, then the footprints are the poems. In fact, everyone is writing their own history of life with their own footprints.
The road carries the footprints, and the footprints extend the road. All roads will have an end, and the endless steps are the footsteps of the pioneers.
A wise man walks his own path calmly, leaving his footprints for others to comment on; a fool walks and stops, letting his footprints follow other people's comments, and one day he does not know how to take his own steps.
The reason why some people’s lives are brilliant is because they dare to leave their own footprints on the road that no one has walked; the reason why some people’s lives are bleak is because they always follow the lead of others. Footsteps go. The beauty of footprints lies not in the exquisite patterns they can be made into, but in the destination they can take us to.
In a wonderful life, one step at a time is clearly visible, and one writes one's own chapter; in a downtrodden life, one's footprints follow those of others, and are messy and blurred, writing someone else's life.
Footprints can be modified, decorated, or even completely erased, but the life history written by the footprints can never be changed. Following the footsteps of others may make you feel comfortable, but you will never open up a new path.
Lu Xun once said, "There is no road in the world. When more people walk, it becomes a road." All roads evolve from footprints. The footprints make the road, and the road becomes The poem with footprints records everyone's life, wonderful, bad, mediocre, bumpy...
Most of the admired footprints are taken from the thorns and mud. The footprints left by expensive shoes may be gorgeous, but they may not be classic; the footprints left by tattered shoes may be ugly, but they may be great. It's not terrible to have taken the wrong path. What's terrible is not to admit it, but to interpret your own footprints as a classic life.
Road is the best expresser of footprints. The muddy the road, the clearer the footprints; the heavier the load, the deeper the footprints. Can you find your own footprints on the land of China?
Finally, the mist and rain from the south of the Yangtze River covered the world. After letting Hua give up, it was only a moment, and the mountains and rivers were silent forever.
-2 A thousand years of fame will bury you in one lifetime. The exquisite country is ridiculous but has no king's destiny.
-3 The Phoenix Tour on the Phoenix Platform broke the promise and left all night long. From then on, people from the south to the north of the Yangtze River wept for thousands of miles.
-4 Lament the tears of beauties, the death of heroes, there is so much suffering in the world. Mountains and rivers are eternally silent, how can we be happy?
-5 Fenghua is a finger of quicksand, and old age is a period of time.
-6 The night rain dyed the sky and water blue. Some people can achieve great success without gestures.
-7 You must remember that the red sandalwood is not extinguished, and I have not left either.
-8 Who sighs in the years.
-9 The vast sky in the Han Dynasty holds the prosperity and sorrow, and between the curved eyebrows, destiny is destined to become the past.
-10 The first makeup of the world of mortals, the mountains and rivers have no boundaries. The first face crushes the nightmare and has an unparalleled destiny.
-11 The style of Jiangnan, the sky and water become blue, and the wishes of the heavenly religion are contrary to the body.
-12 Mountains and rivers are handed over, and I smile for you.
-13 There is no regret even in such a bumpy life.
-14 The past covered by the passing years, white horses passing by, hastily turned into a trace of sadness.
-15 The flowers covered by time bloom, and everything passes by and becomes blank.
-16 Even though all my splendor has faded, I will still be on the other side to protect you.
1 People in Beidahuang call snowstorms a big smoke bubble. There is heavy smoke and bubbles on the third day after the snow falls. This is an ironclad rule. When Yan'erpao started, the fierce cold wind whistled sharply, blowing the flat snow on the snowfield into giant dragons, rolling against the snow.
The storm was furious, like millions of lions roaring and galloping, rolling hundreds of white dragons into the sky. The whole space was filled with white powder, like smoke or fog, but without the softness of smoke, hitting the face like a needle. tie. In an instant, the sky was dark and the earth was dark, and the person walking on the opposite side could only see a hazy figure. The blizzard has forged the resolute character of the people of the Northern Wilderness. They are not afraid of the tyrant of winter and brave it to go out into the wilderness, build canals, cut trees, hunt, and break ice to fish. ——Ping Qing "Snowstorm Sends Me Back to My Hometown"
2 The snow in the south of the Yangtze River is extremely moist and beautiful; it is the message of youth that is still looming, and it is the extremely healthy virgin skin. . In the snowy fields, there are blood-red camellias, single-petaled plum blossoms with hints of green in the white, and dark yellow bell-shaped wintersweet flowers; there are also cold green weeds under the snow. There were indeed no butterflies, and I can’t remember exactly whether bees came to collect honey from camellias and plum blossoms. But before my eyes I seemed to see winter flowers blooming in the snowy fields, with many bees flying busily, and I could hear them humming.
——Lu Xun's "Snow"