I can't help but stop.
I have never seen such a blooming vine, only a brilliant lavender hanging in the air like a waterfall, with no beginning and no end. Just a deep and shallow purple, as if flowing, laughing and growing. On the bèng purple flag, there is a little silver light, just like a splash. A closer look shows that the brightest part of every purple flower at that time was flirting with the sun.
Spring has faded here, and there are no people enjoying flowers and no butterflies around bees. Some are sparkling and blooming vines on this tree. Flowers are next to flowers, one after another, pushing each other around, so lively!
"I have blossomed!" They are laughing.
"I have blossomed!" They shouted.
Every ear of flowers blooms above and waits for release below? . The color is light and dark, as if purple has settled down and settled in the tenderest and smallest bud. Every blooming flower is like a full sail, under which is a pointed bottom and a bulging cabin; Like a smile that can't help laughing, it is about to bloom. What kind of qióng pulp do you have? I leaned over and picked one.
But I didn't pick it. I have no habit of picking flowers. I just stood and stared, feeling that this wisteria waterfall was not only in front of my eyes, but also flowing slowly in my heart. Flowing, taking away the anxiety and sadness that have been pressing on my heart these years. This is a secret about life and death and brotherhood. I am immersed in the brilliance of this dense flower, and there is nothing else for the time being, only spiritual peace and joy of life.
In addition to the brilliance, there is a faint fragrance here. The fragrance seems to be light purple, and it covers me gently like a dream. It suddenly occurred to me that there was a big wisteria outside my house more than ten years ago. It climbs high beside a dead locust tree, but the flowers are never sparse. A bunch of musicians are líng the treetops of things, as if trying something. Later, even the sparse flower clusters disappeared. Other wisteria frames in the garden were also pulled down and fruit trees were planted. At that time, it was said that there was an inevitable relationship between flowers and life corruption. I once thought regretfully: I will never see the vines here again. ?
After so many years, the vines have blossomed again, and they are so full and dense. The purple waterfalls cover the dense branches of Wolong, and they keep flowing, flowing and flowing to people's hearts.
Flowers and people will encounter all kinds of misfortunes, but the long river of life is endless. I touched the little purple flower hut, which was filled with the wine of life. It is full of sails, sailing on the river full of flowers. It is a flower among thousands of flowers, and it is also a flower that forms a beautiful flowing waterfall.
In this faint purple light and faint purple fragrance, I feel that I have accelerated my pace.
About the author:
Zong Pu, born on 1928, female, formerly known as Feng Zhongpu, pen names Ren Xiaozhe and Feng Fei. The daughter of the famous philosopher Feng Youlan, who grew up on the campus of Tsinghua, has absorbed the essence of China traditional culture and western culture, and has profound knowledge and unique charm. 195 1 graduated from Tsinghua University Foreign Languages Department. Worked in China Federation of Literary and Art Circles, Literature and Art Newspaper and other units. 1960 tune world literature editorial department. Before the Cultural Revolution, his works mainly included short stories Red Bean, Peach Blossom Garden, Daughter Marries My Valley, Mirror Lake, Back Door and Companion. Red beans were criticized inappropriately. After the Cultural Revolution, there were the short story A Dream on a String and the novella Sanshengshi, which won the national excellent novella award. 198 1 Selected Novels and Proses of Zong Pu published by Beijing Publishing House. Later, he struggled to create a novel "Wild Hulu Yin" reflecting the fate of China intellectuals, and the first novel "Dunan Ji" was published on 1987, which was well received. Her novels are deliberately innovative, with bright and implicit language, smooth and lingering, and quite distinctive. Her prose is as profound and meaningful as water.
Writing background:
Zong Pu's family was persecuted during the Cultural Revolution, and "anxiety and grief" haunted the author all the time. This article was written in May 1982. At that time, the author's little brother was terminally ill, and the author was very sad (the little brother died in June 1982+00). He wandered in the yard and saw a blooming wisteria flower.