1 Luxun's Snow
The rain that warms this country has never turned into a cold, hard and brilliant snowflake. Well-informed people think he is monotonous. Does he feel unhappy? The snow in Jiangnan is very beautiful. That's the news of youth that is still looming, and it's the skin of a very strong virgin. In Xueyuan, there are blood-red camellia (3), single plum blossom hidden in white and green, and Chimonanthus praecox (4) with dark yellow chin; There are cool green weeds under the snow. Hu Die did not; I really can't remember whether bees come to collect honey from camellia and plum blossoms. But my eyes seem to see flowers blooming in the snow in winter, and many bees are busy flying. I can hear their buzzing sound.
Children's hands, red with cold, are like purple bud ginger, and seven or eight of them get together to make snow arhats. Because it was unsuccessful, whose father also came to help. Lohan is much taller than children, although it is only a bunch of small tops and big bottoms, and finally it is unclear whether it is a gourd or a Lohan; But it's white and bright, and it's glued together with its own water, and the whole ground shines. The children made his eyes with longan seeds and stole rouge from his mother's powder and put it on his lips. This time it's really a big arhat. He just sat in the snow with burning eyes and red lips.
The next day, several children came to see him and asked him. By the way, he clapped his hands, nodded and smiled. But he finally sat alone. Sunny days come to soothe his skin again, and cold nights freeze him and turn him into opaque crystals; The continuous sunny days made him wonder what it was, and the rouge on his mouth gradually faded.
However, after the northern snowflake flies, it will always be the same as powder and sand. They will never stick together and scatter on the house, the ground and the hay. That's it. The snow on the house has already been digested because the fire in the house is warm. In addition, on a sunny day, a whirlwind suddenly came. It flew vigorously and gave off dazzling light in the sun, such as fog with flames, which whirled up and filled the space, making the space whirl up and flicker.
In the boundless wilderness, under the cold sky, the shining soul of rain is spinning and rising. ...
Yes, it is lonely snow, dead rain and the soul of rain.
Precautions:
① This article was first published in the 11th issue of Yusi Weekly on 1925 1 26th.
(2) Warm country refers to the warm climate in southern China.
(3) Zhu Bao Camellia has been in bloom for forty-one years. According to Guangqun Fangpu: "Zhu Bao Camellia, which originated in Chiba, has been in bloom for several months and is the cutest."
(4) Chimonanthus praecox in the mouth of the Qing Dynasty According to the book "Flower Mirror" written by Chen Haozi in the Qing Dynasty for three years: "The round petals are dark yellow and shaped like plum blossoms. Although in full bloom, it is named Chimonanthus praecox, which is the most precious in the world.
2 Jun Qing & gt
This is the first snow in Jiaodong Peninsula since winter. It snows heavily. At first, it was accompanied by light rain, and soon I saw large snowflakes falling from the sky with dense clouds. The ground will turn white soon. In the mountain village in winter, at night, everything is quiet, only the snow keeps falling, and the dead branches of trees are bent by snow and occasionally creak.
It snowed heavily all night. This morning, it cleared up and the sun came out. Push open the door and look, wow! What a heavy snow! Mountains, rivers, trees and houses are all covered with a thick layer of snow, and it has become a world of powder and jade. The deciduous willow trees are covered with fluffy and shiny silver bars; And those pine trees and cypresses that are evergreen in winter and summer are covered with fluffy and heavy snowballs. A gust of wind blew, the branches shook gently, beautiful silver bars and snowballs fell secretly, and jade-like snowflakes fluttered with the wind, reflecting the morning sunshine and showing colorful rainbows. The snow in the street is more than a foot deep, and people step on it, making a creaking sound under their feet. Groups of children made snowmen and threw snowballs in the snow, and the cheerful shouts shook the snow off the branches.
As the saying goes, "Xue Rui is a good omen". This sentence has sufficient scientific basis and is not a superstitious idiom. Heavy snow in winter can freeze some overwintering pests to death; Melted water penetrates into the depth of soil//layer, which can supply the needs of crop growth. I believe that this timely heavy snow will definitely promote the bumper harvest of crops, especially wheat, next spring. The experienced farmer compared snow to "a wheat quilt". The thicker the "quilt" is covered in winter, the better the wheat will grow in the spring next year, so there is another proverb: "Wheat covers three quilts in winter and sleeps with steamed bread in the next year."
More than 3 "Sunshine Snow"
In ancient China, once a scholar, he didn't have a full view. The outstanding feature of civil servants lies in official positions, not in literature. As a scholar, they are not satisfied in officialdom. However, things are strange. When the Hubei official's belt has already been scattered into mud, a poem occasionally drawn by a bamboo pen can actually engrave mountains and rivers, engrave people's hearts and never wander.
I once had the opportunity to look up at Bai Di City in the boat on the river at dusk, climb the Yellow Crane Tower in the thick autumn frost, and touch Hanshan Temple in winter nights. There are many people around me, and almost all of them are filled with poems that don't need to be quoted. People come to look for scenery as well as poetry. They can recite these poems when they are young. The children's imagination is sincere and realistic. So these cities, these buildings, these temples are all built in their own hearts. When they are old, when they just realize that their feet are enough, they are also burdened with heavy debts and eagerly look forward to visiting the poetic realm. For childhood, for history, for many unspeakable reasons. Sometimes, this longing is like looking for the lost hometown and visiting the lost relatives.
The magic of literati can turn such a small corner of the world into a hometown in everyone's heart. What magic is hidden in their faded blue shirts?
Today, I went to Yangguan to watch Wang Wei's Song of Besieged City. Before I left, I asked the old man in the county where I lived. The answer is: "It's a long way to go in Xiu Yuan. There's nothing to see, but some literati have worked hard to find it." The old man looked up at the sky and said, "It will snow for a while. Don't suffer this. " I bowed to him and turned and got into the snow.
Once out of the small county, it is desert. There is nothing but Snow White, not even a wrinkle can be found. When traveling in other places, always find yourself a goal at each road section, staring at a tree and then staring at a stone. Here, I can't see a target with my eyes open, even a dead leaf and a black spot. So, I have to look up at the sky. I have never seen such a complete sky, and it has not been swallowed up at all. The edges are quite scattered and the earth is tightly covered. There is a place where genius is called heaven. On such a day, the earth is called the earth. Walking alone in such a world, the dwarf becomes a giant. Walking alone in such a world, the giant has become a dwarf.
As a result, it cleared up, the wind stopped and the sun cleared up. I didn't expect the snow in the desert to melt so quickly. Just for an instant, the ground was full of sand, but there were no wet marks. A few wisps of smoke gradually floated out on the horizon, stopped moving and deepened. I wondered for a long time before I found that it was a ridge that had just melted snow.
The bumps on the ground have become a shocking exposition, and there can only be one understanding: they are tombs of distant times.
It's far from the county seat, and it's unlikely to be the burial place of city people. These tombs were eroded by the wind and snow, and collapsed with age, thin and depressed. Obviously, no one has ever offered sacrifices to sweep them away. Why are there so many and arranged so closely? There can only be one understanding: this is an ancient battlefield.
I walked blankly in the endless grave, and Eliot's The Waste Land came to my mind. This is the wasteland of China history: like the horseshoe of rain, like the cry of thunder, like the blood of notes. The loving mother in the Central Plains has white hair, the spring boudoir in the south of the Yangtze River is far away, and the children in Hunan cry at night. Farewell to my hometown in Liu Yin, the general glared at me and hunted military flags in the north wind. With a puff of smoke, another puff of smoke drifted away. I believe that the deceased, such as husband, are facing the enemy lines in northern Shuobei; I believe that they really want to look back at the last minute and take a look at the familiar land. As a result, they twisted down and became sand piles.
I wonder if this starry sand pile was exchanged by historians for half a line of ink? Historians turned over the documents page by page, so the land was buried layer by layer. A 25-year-old mountain, written on this wasteland, is quite glorious, because it is, after all, a remote area of the kingdoms of past dynasties and has long been responsible for defending the territory of China. So these sand piles are more comfortable to stand on, and these pages can rattle. Just like the dry, cold and monotonous land, the historical proposition of the northwest frontier is relatively simple. In the Central Plains, it is different. The mountains are heavy and the waters are complex. The maze of years will make the clearest mind faint, and the sound of the morning bell and the evening drum is always so secretive and surly. There, there is no such casual sand pile, everything is stuffy in the beautiful scenery, and countless ghosts who died for no reason can only dive deep into the ground in grief and regret. Unlike here, I can show a dry history and let me touch it with the pace of the 20th century.
There are shadows in the distance. Get there quickly, there is water under the tree and sand has high and low slopes. Climbing a slope, I suddenly looked up and saw a bare mound on the mountain not far away. I am intuitively convinced that this is a sunshine pass.
More and more trees and houses began to appear. That's right, where the important pass is, where the military forces are stationed, these are indispensable. Turn a few corners, then go straight to a sand slope, climb to the bottom of the mound, look around, there is a monument nearby, engraved with the words "Yangguan Ancient Site".
This is a commanding height overlooking the four fields. The northwest wind thundered in Wan Li and came straight. After a few steps, it stopped. My feet stopped, but I clearly heard the chattering of my teeth. My nose must be red with cold soon. Oh, take a breath of hot air into your palm, cover your ears and jump a few times before you settle down and open your eyes. The snow here doesn't melt, of course not. There is no trace of the so-called ancient site, only the nearby beacon tower is still there, and this is the mound just seen below. Most of the mounds have collapsed, and you can see layers of sediment, layers of reeds and reeds flying out, trembling in the cold wind after thousands of years. At present, it is a mountain in the northwest, all covered with snow, layered and reaching the sky. Anyone standing here will feel that he is standing on a rock by the sea. Those mountains are frozen oceans and waves.
Wang Wei is really gentle to the extreme. For such a Yangguan, the bottom of his pen still does not show the color of fierce terror, but writes in a lingering and elegant way: "I advise you to make more wine, and there is no reason to go out to Yangguan in the west." He glanced at the green willow color outside the window of the Acropolis Guest House, looked at his friend's packed bags, and smiled and raised the hip flask. Have another drink, and you'll never find an old friend who can talk about wine like this outside the sun. This cup of wine, friends must not refuse, drink it off.
This is the demeanor of the Tang Dynasty. Most of them will not cry and lament, but will discourage them. Their vision is far away and their life path is wide. Parting is frequent and the steps are open. This style, in Li Bai, Gao Shi, Cen Can there, glow more heroic. Among the ancient statues in the north and south, the statues of the Tang people can be recognized at a glance, with such strong bodies, calm eyes and confident spirit. When you see Mona Lisa's smile in Europe, you can feel it immediately. This serene self-confidence belongs only to those artists who really wake up from the nightmare of the Middle Ages and are quite sure of their future. The smile in the statue of the Tang Dynasty will only be more calm and serene. In Europe, these artists have been making a fuss for a long time, stubbornly trying to convey their smiles into the soul of history. Anyone can figure out how many years after the Tang Dynasty. But in the Tang Dynasty, it did not extend the confidence of artists for a long time. The snowstorm in Yangguan is becoming more and more sad.
Wang Wei's poems and paintings are unique, and the boundary between poetry and painting, which has been repeatedly discussed by western philosophers such as Lessing, is now within his reach. However, the palace in Chang 'an only opened a narrow side door for artists, allowing them to bend down as humble attendants to create a little entertainment. The old man in history stood in awe and turned away, trembling to return to the genealogy of the Three Emperors and Five Emperors. Here, there is no need for art to make a big fight, and there is no need to have too deep sustenance for beauty.
As a result, Kyushu's painting style is gloomy. Yangguan, it is no longer difficult to enjoy warm and mellow poems. There are still some scholars who left Yangguan in the west, but most of them have become officials and ministers.
Even mounds and stone towns can't stand the blowing of so many sighs, and Yangguan collapses and falls into the spiritual territory of a nation. Will eventually become a ruin, a wasteland. Behind him, sand graves are like tides, and in front of him, cold peaks are like waves. No one can imagine that here, 1000 years ago, the grandeur of life and the vastness of artistic feelings were verified.
There should be several voices of Hu Jia and Qiangdi here. The timbre is extremely beautiful, harmonious with nature and fascinating. Unfortunately, it has become the sad voice of the soldiers. Since a nation can't bear to hear it, they disappear in the north wind.
Go home. It is getting late. I'm afraid it will snow.
4 Yu's snow
Beautiful snowflakes are flying. I haven't seen you for three years.
Last year in Fujian, it seemed a little later than now, and I also saw snow. But that's snow on the top of the mountain in the distance, not flying snowflakes. On the plain, it only occasionally sprinkles a few drops with the rain and never falls to the ground. Its color is gray, not white; Its weight is like raindrops, and it can't fly. As soon as it landed, it immediately melted into water, jumping or sighing without trace, just like when it snowed in Jiangsu and Zhejiang. This kind of snow, the old Fujian people I met for the first time in 40 years, can certainly feel special significance and talk about it with relish, but in my opinion, it is always boring. It snows in Fujian, but I don't think so.
I like the flying snowflakes in Shanghai. It is "snow-white" white, as beautiful as a flower. It seems to be lighter than air, not falling from the air, but being rolled up from the ground by the air. However, it is like a living creature, like a group of gnats (ruì) at dusk in summer, like bees in the honey-picking period in spring. It is busy flying, up or down, fast or slow, or sticking to people, or squeezing into the cracks, and seems to have its own will and purpose. It is silent. But when it flies, we seem to hear the cries and footsteps of millions of people, the rough sea, the roar of the forest, and sometimes it seems to hear the whispers of children, the quiet evening prayers in the chapel, the cheerful birds singing in the garden ... It brings gloom and cold. But in its flying posture, we saw a charitable mother, a lively child, smiling flowers, warm sun, silent sunset ... it didn't breathe. But when it jumped on our faces, we seemed to smell the fresh air in the wilderness, the elegant orchids in the valley, the rich roses in the garden, and the faint jasmine ... During the day, it made thousands of beautiful gestures; At night, it gives off silver light, shines on our pedestrians, and draws all kinds of flowers and trees on our glass windows, oblique, straight, curved and upside down. And the river, the clouds in the sky …
These four articles have their own characteristics, and they are all masterpieces. Personally, I feel that Lu Xun's Snow is particularly good. Fortunately, the landlord didn't give me gold coins. I'm a little protesting. Hehe, I'm actually very happy if I can help you.