Jiangnan Lost Dream - Essay 1
In early spring, listening to the sound of trickling water outside the window, it seems like the sound of pearls and jade falling on the plate while holding the piano in one's hand, the touching notes, In a trance, I seemed to be with the flowing water and white clouds. Quietly facing this scene outside the window, through the splendid season of youth, on days when the breeze blows gently, I watch the sunset over the long river and read in retreat.
I know how restless this thought is. But what can be done? Without your company, even the words in the book in front of me have turned into your chic movements and elegant smile. The evening breeze blows, and my anxious heart finally no longer stops at the beautiful words in the book. I look out the window from time to time to see if you are there. I said I was reading a book, but it was just a show, and it wasn't an escape. It had only been half a day since I said goodbye, and it felt like a hundred years had passed. But, you know, "love" is just such a word, simple yet complex, and I am willing to spend thousands of years exploring it. Because the one I only love is you.
Because of you, I understand that feelings need to be taken care of; because of you, I understand the difficulty of staying together; because of you, I understand the care that lingers in my soul.
In this scene full of affection, you play the flute to accompany me. Suddenly, the sound of your flute stopped in the long sunset. You looked down at me lying drunk on the long steps. You had a contented look on your face. I slowly looked back, and you and I smiled at each other. The long evening breeze blows on our cheeks, brushing away the vicissitudes of yesterday. We quietly face the prosperity of the world now and stretch out our hands to unfold the happy picture in front of us. In the bright sunshine, you and I embrace each other affectionately, and each other is full of love. Every expectation and waiting is always filled with infinite attachment and enthusiasm for you and me.
On the stone chair under the setting sun, you and I are leaning shoulder to shoulder, looking forward to you passionately, watching the flying tidbits of the blue waves and the flowing water. A small boat floats gently by. Looking at the boat going away, you and I have endless romantic feelings!
You said: "I will not miss you because of the change of seasons, I will not miss you because of the long journey, I will not alienate you because of my busyness, and I will not forget you because of the erosion of time. I love you."
I looked at you with tears in my eyes, but could not say a word. I was afraid that when I opened my mouth, you would turn into smoke and disperse like the wind. It would be great if I were the wind. I could surround you tightly and travel across thousands of mountains and rivers, watching the ebb and flow of the tide. I would be attached to you throughout my life and stay in your arms forever. However, everything cannot be at the mercy of you and me. No one can predict what will happen in the next second. As long as we walk through today with heart, plans will never keep pace with changes.
Now in the early spring, without your company, the days are boring and boring. I have buried the past years with tears, but I still can’t get rid of the heart-wrenching scene in my heart. I am silent in the southern half of the Yangtze River. I was looking for my way back in my dream, but I lost my way in my heart. Jiangnan's Lost Dream - Essay 2
Wanderers miss Jiangnan and often call out in their dreams.
Spring is always present in West Lake, and Jiangnan is beautiful and empty.
My hometown is in the clouds, and my memories are scattered on the willow bank.
After years of separation, how can we not remember Jiangnan?
——Song of the Fragrant Moon
Spring·Warm Wind·First Encounter in the West Lake
The spring breeze blows from the warm to the cold, and there are few people around the West Lake. The willow sprouts its young branches, and the fragrant grass stretches its waist. Xishi's Huansha meets Fan Li, and the White Snake meets Xu Xian in spring. The dreamy Jiangnan is flowing with the song of spring for thousands of years, and the beautiful West Lake is full of too much mysterious atmosphere. In the mortal world, there are a pair of footprints that have kissed the soil beside the willow tree many times, a pair of figures that have visited the railings of the broken bridge several times; there are a pair of slender hands that have touched the gentle holy water of the West Lake passionately in regret. Listening to the orioles in the willow waves, holding hands and taking photos; the willow embankment and the bamboo stream, expressing love; walking hand in hand on the Huagang trail, taking beautiful photos of the moon reflected in the three pools, caressing the willow branches beside the Serang Bridge, and chanting poems beside the Peony Pavilion. My lovely child, in the spring of West Lake, the warm wind blows frequently, rippling in my heart. Thinking of you, I raised my head slightly and looked at it quietly. The lake was still the same. Haha, that is the Jiangnan dream that you and I have!
With the oil-paper umbrella, take a few steps and watch the water of the West Lake dance in the sky. When it falls on my body, I feel happy and look closely at the pearls dripping from the edge of the umbrella. The drizzle does not wet the clothes, but the gentle words warm the heart. Fireworks bloom in March, grass grows and warblers fly. Who leads my soul to this magnificent water body. The flower umbrella is held with both hands, each person holds out one hand, you are on the left and I am on the right. Take shelter from the rain under an umbrella, love to listen to your heart's words, rest your head on your shoulder, and bathe in your love words. Love is hidden in a secluded alley, your heart is in your heart and my heart is in my heart. When our eyes look at each other, how many expectations can we have without heart palpitations! The spring breeze was so elegant all night, the peach blossoms were raining on my clothes without getting wet, and the long fibrous drizzle hung in front of my eyes like strings. Who plucked my heartstrings, letting me follow the wind, chase the fragrance, and dance with the flowers, making me dreamy Walking through such happiness! Thousands of pear blossoms are already in full bloom in my heart. I should be grateful for the warm willow breeze that does not blow cold on my face!
Xihu Summer · Rain · Happiness
Small bridges and flowing water, white walls and green tiles, willows curling up in smoke, and fields of lotus leaves. The water is clear and fish chat, and the bridge bends and people enter the water. You don't say I'm beautiful, just say that I came from the poem with a wisp of gardenia fragrance, and the breeze blew my hair like flowing willow silk. We took a willow leaf ark and walked along the water, with our skirts floating and sweeping the water, walking through the mist and rain, gently beating the passing days with the sound of paddles. The grass is green, the willows are curved, I am dreaming of Jiangnan; the rain is silky, the alleys are leisurely, I am drunk in Jiangnan.
Nestle on the lovers' chairs with charming grass scent, blend into the landscape painting of small bridges and flowing water; linger in the beautiful garden scenery with graceful flowers, recite poems and paint, chat with birds, and read the moon in the water. A short separation will also leave a long longing for lovesickness: text messages make the lotuses bloom, love letters fly to the roses, phone calls bring smiles, and sweet dreams are left behind in the south of the Yangtze River. Who doesn’t love Jiangnan? How much mist and rain, how much coquettishness, how much flowing water, how much tenderness. I am the charming girl from the south of the Yangtze River in your heart. In your praise, I turned into a hazy and elegant fairy scent like lilac, which deeply left an immortal mark in your heart.
Filling a glass of lovesick red wine, the red lips are slightly parted, slightly drunk, suspected to be tears in Jiangnan dream. The vaguely majestic shadow, the bright eyes and lotus heart, are intoxicating. The crescent moon and the faint melancholy give a bit of smoke and rain and a bit of running water to the women of Jiangnan. You will never be able to leave the charming water town, the lingering rain alley, the entanglement of willow silk, or the image of cheongsam. Humming lightly with the lamp in hand, without any psychological rhyme, the music is out of tune. Everyone in the world says Jiangnan is good, but you are the only one who knows it.
Autumn at West Lake, Sunset, Pain
The sky is high, the clouds are clear, the water is long, and the wind is cool by the West Lake. The shadows of the remaining lotuses are bruised, the sunken fish washes over the withered leaves, and the setting sun illuminates the slanted shadows. The melting sunlight penetrated through the leaves, tearing the light into pieces and spreading them all over the lake, messy and slightly cool. The west wind blows, and a pool of fragments shines with strange light and splendor, moving with the wind, poignant and heart-pounding: those are not the fragments of light shaking, those are the fragments of words I left behind, those are the fragments of my scattered thoughts, that It is my heart-wrenching love song. It was swept away by the autumn wind and fell into the water, and there was still a little bit of ink fragrance and a little bit of hesitation, and it was twisted into pieces by the wind. Without the beauty, the fish has been dormant for thousands of years, who will take it in? The words are scattered in the web, how much struggle, how much hard work, how many places are fragrant? Today I saw the water of West Lake again in my dream, and in the sunset, I thought of you. He raised his head slightly and looked quietly, with tears streaming down his face. The sparkling lake water is still the same, still the same. It’s just the words that hurt me. What’s broken is my hometown that I can’t go back to. What I often dream about are the mountains and rivers in the south of the Yangtze River, and the winter that’s not too cold, but makes me feel so sad!
Winter in West Lake·White Snow·Leaving Home
The snow in West Lake is dazzling and pale. The bluish-white light evokes a sense of awe. I couldn't bear to step on it, so I stepped on it gently. A feeling of broken jade spread to my heart, accompanied by an amazing crisp sound, which seemed to be cracking my heart. The broken bridge is covered with white snow, and the remaining lotuses in the Quyuan are white; the path in Huagang leads to the bamboo tower, and the outer tower of the Three Pools Reflecting the Moon Tower; walking in the snow to look for plum blossoms on Lingfeng Peak; looking at the West Lake from the Leifeng Pagoda, it is all white.
Carrying my luggage, I bid farewell to my hometown and counted the snowflakes falling slowly. Your tears broke my heart. I just said it didn't matter against my will. I waved my hand and sighed for the next generation. Move your heavy steps bit by bit, give up the attachment in your heart bit by bit, let go of the lingering love bit by bit, move the reason for sadness bit by bit, and reject the excuse for infatuation bit by bit. Pick up your luggage, be proud and brave, and go to a foreign country. Tell my parents that I am going to wander around and forget his appearance...
The beauty of the West Lake·Dream·Forgotten
"When the sun rises, the flowers on the river are as red as the fire, and when spring comes, the river water Green as blue, one can forget about Jiangnan.
"The smart and elegant small bridges and flowing water in the south of the Yangtze River are filled in the hearts of the wanderers, which is refreshing and refreshing. Can you not remember Jiangnan? The graceful ladies of the south of the Yangtze River walking in the melancholy and graceful mist and rain are intoxicating. How can you not miss the south of the Yangtze River? The beautiful poems of the south of the Yangtze River It has been passed down for thousands of years and is still fragrant, making people fall in love with it. How can they not dream of Jiangnan? The parents of Jiangnan are leaning against the door and looking forward to the return of the wanderer. It is hard to say. How can I not miss Jiangnan?