? But what if Lao She comes to Beijing today? Modern high-rise buildings have sprung up like mushrooms after rain, but Lao She's proud old city wall is hesitant to tear down or renovate, but in any case, it is no longer the original appearance.
? In fact, Beiping is lucky. Walking in the hutong, you can also see the quaint quadrangles, and you may be lucky enough to meet one or two old Beijingers with Beijing accent to buy donkey meat to burn.
? However, Beiping is lucky. What about other cities?
? Han Shaogong's heart is full of yearning and expectation for his hometown: "I will be disappointed in my hometown, in the market full of floating manure, and in the crowded carriages in my hometown." That kind of disappointment can bleed, and golden ears of wheat and inspiring songs will grow on the land of blood. " Nowadays, the market of floating dung is gone, the bumpy road is gone, and the disappointment is finally gone. However, where are the golden ears of wheat? What about the rumors of catching up? Facing the city of steel, life is good, conditions are good, and disappointment naturally follows, but what follows is confusion and emptiness, but I don't know where this feeling comes from. Maybe you're going to travel to another city with steel, and you won't feel strange at all, so you can understand. Because you have been in a strange place, you will get used to it.
? Golden ears of wheat and songs of driving should have been the best and most sincere expectation of Sri Lankan native people for their hometown. Young Lang, full of dreams, left his hometown in high spirits and determined to build his hometown into what he expected. And when they come back empty-handed or successful, and want to find a place for their hearts, there is no trace of the old days in their hometown. How can they pour out their sadness in words?
? In the final analysis, our cities are all copied and pasted without their own characteristics, so those who move to different places and those who have difficulty leaving home are confused in the changes of the city; Those who pursue their dreams, those who travel far away, also unconsciously don't know the way home; And all those who miss their homeland and are haunted by dreams have unconsciously become rootless duckweeds, and their homeland is hard to find.
? Our home, entangled by our dreams, scattered by reinforced concrete, and fraudulently erected high-rise buildings, draws up the name of our hometown. However, is this still the land of blood that we expected?
? It seems a little melancholy to write here, so is our homesickness really like the pale golden ears of wheat and the songs of driving? I think not. Golden ears of wheat and driven songs can never be copied and pasted, but every drifting city should be given to everyone born and raised in Sri Lanka.
? Your home, right there.