? moss
? (Qing) Yuan Mei
Life is not everywhere, youth is just coming.
Although moss is as small as rice, it also blooms like peony.
Moss is a poem by Yuan Mu, a poet in Qing Dynasty. Moss is a low-level plant, mostly parasitic in dark and humid places, but it also has its own life instinct and intention, and will not lose the courage to grow hair because of the harsh environment. It breaks through the obstacles of the environment with strong vitality and glows with youthful brilliance.
This little poem, which has been silent for more than 300 years, was instantly endowed with soul and incomparable strength after being sung by Liang Jun's teachers and children.
"The teacher taught us to sing this poem, so that we can open up bravely like peonies." In the first program "Classic Chanting", Liang Yuequn, a Miao girl dressed in national costume and with two pieces of plateau red on her cheeks, sounded like nature, and Liang Jun, a teaching teacher who taught her to sing, looked equally simple and sincere.
A group of children in the mountains combined with this little-known "moss" and had a huge chemical reaction.
As soon as the little girl spoke, I fell into her heavenly voice, and her timid little eyes were full of longing. Her voice is so clean that it hurts. The ethereal voice hit the bottom of my heart, and the feelings that I thought were no longer flooding suddenly burst, and the tears that I usually hid quietly dripped.
When dozens of children walked hand in hand from both sides of the stage to the podium, tears collapsed in an instant.
When I sang "Name the color after you", the camera switched to the face of a little boy next to Xiaoyue Group. The smile on his face is so pure and satisfied. Since taking office, he has looked around curiously from time to time. Perhaps this is the first time he has left his hometown and come to a big city. It is also the first time to stand on such a dazzling stage and sing the inner swan song so heartily.
Liang Jun, an unknown teacher. On that mountain, teaching teachers came one after another and left one after another. What kind of power prompted him to stay? He and the isolated children in the mountains lived a lonely poem for 300 years.
I cried once after watching this video, without exception, I sobbed all the time when I watched it for the first time and forgot to wipe my tears with a paper towel. I have a runny nose and tears.
Sleeping in bed at night and still crying, probably from this song found all kinds of hard shadows along the way. When I wrote these words, tears kept falling, blurring my eyes and dripping on the screen of my mobile phone.
On the first day of last semester, when the school showed this video to the children through the red scarf TV station, I stood among the children in fear. I walked to the back of the classroom alone and quietly wiped away the tears overflowing from my eyes. That kind of unforgettable pain, let me deeply feel what is uncontrollable. For children who have been growing up in honeypots, how can they get in touch with the emotional voice behind this song?
If it weren't for the tears, it might still be the ignorant child. Streams merge into the sea, and dreams stand tall as mountains. When the wind comes, the flowers will bloom naturally. Dreams are signposts that light up for you. All the darkness paves the way for the morning. The future has opened, brave child, you are an indispensable piece of the puzzle. The world is pure white and full of dreams. Name this color after you ... the voice of the goose is still there. I talked to you when I was a child. The voice in my ear is still there, warming my heart like the wind. ...
The familiar melody is endless, and the clear and pure voice makes people feel the pure and firm power. They are content with the ordinary but never satisfied with the mediocrity, and they are warm and never give up. For the youth of moss, for the wind, flowers will naturally bloom. They are telling everyone that everyone's life is valuable, and people can be born like ants or as beautiful as myths. ...
I feel sorry for them and for us who are working hard. We are as ordinary, but we are as strong, and we are like moss learning peony.
May everyone like a moss flower and every dream like a moss flower be as brilliant as the day when peony blooms. ...