When I was a child, I longed for all kinds of trees and flowers that looked tall and strange on TV, but I always looked down on these rural plants around me. Sophora japonica, elm, poplar, willow and even paulownia are paulownia trees instead of buttonwood trees; Flowers and plants are all kinds of nameless wild flowers and weeds in the fields in front of and behind the house. Even if it is named, it is also a very rustic "burning soup flower" and "pink". But they are full of vitality and blooming. Whether people like it or not, they bloom warmly and brightly in the morning glow, in the night wind, in the smoke, in the dust, and even under the oppression of cattle, sheep, chickens and ducks coming and going.
I know that I will eventually drift to another place, and I will no longer belong to the place where I once lived. It's just that I never thought that it would be a long mountain and a wide water when I got here, but it would be a long water gap when I left Qian Shan. The vegetation in my hometown only circulates in the scenery of each season; However, the feeling of childhood revives and lingers in every scene touched by memory. The life I yearned for when I was young and the dream I pursued when I worked hard have all been settled. I wonder if I have satisfied this girl who loves literature and longs for independence since she was a child?
When I was in college in my hometown, I recited Wang Yucheng's Journey to the Country at the request of my teacher. This poem is praised for its couplet "The Voice of a Valley" and "The Silence of Several Peaks". How vivid the picture is, how personified, contrasted and set off, and how clever the poet's technique is-this is the angle of artistic appreciation. At that time, I fell in love with necklaces. Li Tang is a kind of wild pear that I liked to eat when I was a child. There seems to be no buckwheat growing there, but I am familiar with the scene of wheat flowering: layers of wheat waves, thin flowers, gently scattered, and so on! "Rouge" and "White" are gorgeous, bright and strong, and "Ye Luo" and "Bloom" are also so rhythmic. How well the poet writes the familiar scenery!
I admire the poet's talent, but I have never realized the last emotion in this poem-homesickness.
Until today, I am walking in this familiar and unfamiliar foreign land, pacing and relaxing in the afterglow of the sunset. I see that the leaves of a tree are very similar to the locust tree in my hometown. Then I thought of picking and eating Sophora japonica, and then I thought of Yu Qian's elm, willow, peach, apricot, pear, apricot, pear ... If I show them images, I will see all the life scenes of plants, flowers, fruits, pears and dates in my hometown. The neighboring village of the neighboring village is faintly visible, and there is smoke in the village. Dogs bark in deep alleys, chickens crow and mulberry trees jump. "Think of the end, melancholy and sad.
Suddenly I remembered the last sentence of a trip to the country: "What's more, I was suddenly disappointed. The original tree of the village bridge is like my hometown." Why did the poet suddenly feel melancholy in the face of such beautiful scenery, that is, he suddenly found that the trees on the leaves of this village bridge resembled his hometown? Isn't this the portrayal of me now? At this moment, I felt as if I had traveled through time and space and had a connection with the poet of the Northern Song Dynasty. I was deeply moved. This poem, written in 992 in the Northern Song Dynasty, once again touched ordinary me after a thousand years, and made me find a suitable song in this melancholy and lost mood, and I was gratified by the power of this poem. Thanks to the poet, after thousands of years, he comforted his soul with the same affection.
Many poems have such power. They are the poet's emotions, love and hate, the poet's laughter, the poet's tears and tears. Writing them down is just the expression and catharsis of the poet's self-emotion. Therefore, when we were young, when we were not tempered by life, and when we were students, we didn't know much about their contents. However, as you get older, you may suddenly understand the poems you have recited at some point. "We are not happy-until the end of the day, we met. We understand. What is the relationship between acquaintances? " It turns out that we can all be poets.
I often think of the photos of Bloom and Mingche in their hometown: a large green lawn behind my house is dotted with small blue and white wildflowers, bees, butterflies or insects buzz, willows sprout and branches are new green. ...
I wish I could go back to this scene and continue wrestling with sheep on the grass, uprooting them and picking wild flowers. I hope I will never understand the poems I always liked when I was young. ...