the vastness of the river is far away from forgetting Sichuan. Forgotten Sichuan River is a road in the Xinghai, which is either empty or real, just like a jade belt in the void. It flows through countless civilizations, planets and countries, and connects them in series, just like the sparse pearls on the silver line.
If there is only a sad sky except death, forgetting the river in Sichuan is empty and ethereal, with a fairy spirit. If you enter the country of flowers, countless petals will float on the river, and if you enter the country of bamboo, the breeze and bamboo waves on the bank of the river will continue, and if you enter the country of ocean, the vastness of the river will be better than the ocean.
If there are people who have lost, left and wanted nothing but death, the Forgotten River is honest and heavy, and the heavy river flows. Some people forget that the river in Sichuan is shallow but slightly ankle-deep, and there are pebbles all over the fish and shrimp. Some people forget that the river is fierce like a dagger blade hitting the river bank, splashing out a piece of broken white star, cloud transpiration and seven rainbows in the sky. Some people forget that the river is yellow and dark, and countless hag dragons lurk in it, waiting for an opportunity to drag people crossing the river into the abyss.
There is a quiet space in the upper reaches of the Forget-Chuan River, which is no bigger than Fiona Fang Baili. The Forget-Chuan River is heavier than the sky, lighter than the human world, and it is just a half-empty and half-solid room. There are steep rock walls on both sides of the river bank, and the flowing water is swift. From time to time, there are clouds and rainbows transpiration.
In the silent space, a poet lives in seclusion.
Poets are good at composing poems in the name of poems. If the sun rises, there will be a poem full of vigor and prosperity, and if the sun sets, there will be a poem that the tired birds are homesick and the world is silent. Poetry in spring is full of flowers, poetry in summer is full of storms, poetry in autumn is ripe and harvested, and poetry in winter is lonely and lonely. Poems of joy are full of enthusiasm, and poems of sadness are dejected.
Poets are good at writing about heaven and earth, the sun, the moon and the stars, and the four seasons of spring and autumn, and people are warm and cold.
In the quiet space, there is a large area of Xuanzhu not far from the coast of the Forget River. Xuanzhu bamboo is light, strong and very waterproof, and only grows one section a year. Every spring, the poet will transport the poems written by himself in the previous year to the bamboo forest with a cloud cart, slightly break the bamboo wall with a jade needle, and insert the folded brocade book into it. For seven days in a row, I hid poems in bamboo.
By the winter solstice, the bamboo wall that had been broken has healed again, and there is a book in each closed bamboo section. At that time, the poet will come with a jade knife on his back. He used a jade knife to cut off the bamboo joints with poems hidden in them, put them on the clouds and transported them to a towering cliff on the banks of the Forget River.
I saw the poet adorning himself with red silk and tying it to bamboo. Then he held the poem in his hands, and in the fierce wind, accompanied by the roar of the forgetting river, he threw the poem and bamboo into the forgetting river connecting countless worlds.
If the poem of spring is hidden in the bamboo tube, the poet will pray for peace and happiness on earth, like spring, and then throw it into the river. If it is a poem of summer, I hope that the heaven and the earth will be resolute and decisive, like summer suddenly. If it is an autumn poem, I hope that the heaven and the earth will pay for it, such as the autumn collection. If it is a poem of winter, may the heaven and earth return to peace, like winter without words.
such prayers and poems lasted for three days.
At that time, there will be some good gods from other worlds who will quietly hide in the Forgotten River. They will pick up their favorite poems and bring them back to the palace for appreciation. More bamboo tubes will flow into the world of heaven and earth with the forgotten river water.
Some bamboo tubes can flow very far, even to the end of Forgotten River. Some bamboo tubes will be shelved in the shallows within a few days. Some bamboo tubes will float to the sky and be happily picked up by the gods in the sky. Some bamboo tubes will live on earth and be salvaged by busy travelers with paddles. Some bamboo tubes will be broken, and the poems hidden in them will be bright. Some bamboo tubes will never be picked up.
Some people suddenly wake up after reading those poems that reappear in the light of day, and get great gains. Some people find them quite interesting and gain little benefits, while others feel bored and harmless after reading them.
On that day, Fanxin just passed through the poet's quiet space. Seeing the poet's behavior year after year and day after day, he was quite puzzled, so he asked:
When he heard the poem, he smiled. He silently unbuttoned his coat and pointed to his heart and said:
Fanxin heard it and made three obeisances.
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