Everything looked like I had just woken up, and I opened my eyes with joy. The mountains moistened, the water rose and the sun blushed.
The grass crawled out of the soil, tender and green. In the garden and in the field, look, there are many such trees. Sit, lie down, roll twice, kick a few balls, run a few laps, grab a few laps. The wind is quiet and the grass is soft.
Peach trees, apricot trees and pear trees are all in full bloom, and you won't let me or I won't let you. Red is like fire, pink is like chardonnay and white is like snow. Flowers are sweet; When I closed my eyes, the tree seemed to be covered with peaches, Xinger and pears. Hundreds of bees are buzzing under the flowers, and butterflies of different sizes are flying around. Wildflowers are everywhere: miscellaneous, named and unnamed, scattered in the grass, like eyes, like stars, still flashing.
"Blowing your face is not cold, willow trees become a shade", yes, like a mother's hand touching you. The wind brought the smell of new ploughing, mixed with the smell of grass, and the fragrance of various flowers, all brewing in the slightly humid air. Birds nest in flowers and leaves. They are very happy. Calling friends proudly showed off his crisp voice and sang melodious songs, which set each other off in harmony with the light wind and flowing water. The piccolo of the shepherd boy on the cow's back rang all day at this time.
Rain is the most common and lasts for three or two days. Don't be upset. You see, like cow hair, like a flower needle, like a filament, densely woven diagonally, and there is a thin layer of smoke on the roof. The leaves are bright green, and the grass is green to the eyes. At night, the lights turned on, and a little dim light set off a quiet and peaceful night. In the countryside, on the path and by the stone bridge, some people are walking slowly with umbrellas, and some farmers are working in the fields, wearing wrinkled hats. Their houses are scattered and silent in the rain.
There are more kites in the sky and more children on the ground. Every family in urban and rural areas, old and young, came out one by one. Relax, be full of energy and do your own thing. "A year's plan lies in spring" has just begun, and there is plenty of time and hope.
Spring is like a newborn doll. It's new from head to toe and still growing.
Spring is like a little girl, dressed up and walking with a smile.
Spring is like a strong young man with iron arms and legs, leading us forward.
This is the work Spring by Zhu Ziqing, a modern essayist. Published in July, 1933, it has long been selected by China middle school Chinese textbooks.
2. Autumn is always good no matter where it is; However, the autumn in the north is particularly clear, quiet and sad. The reason why I have traveled thousands of miles from Hangzhou to Qingdao, and even from Qingdao to Peiping, is to enjoy this "autumn", the autumn flavor of this old capital.
Of course, there is autumn in Jiangnan, but the vegetation withers slowly, the air is humid, the sky is pale, and it is often rainy and windy; A person caught between Suzhou, Shanghai, Hangzhou, or Xiamen, Hong Kong and Guangzhou can only feel a little cool in the chaotic past. The taste, color, artistic conception and posture of autumn are always not enough to see, taste and enjoy. Autumn is not a famous flower, nor is it wine. Half-drunk state is not suitable for enjoying autumn.
It has been nearly ten years since autumn in the north. Every autumn in the south, I always think of the reed flowers in Taoranting, the willow shadows in Diaoyutai, the insects in Xishan, the jathyapple in Yuquan and the bells in Tanzhe Temple. Even if you don't go out in Beiping, you can rent a shabby house and live in the sea of people in the imperial city. Get up in the morning, make a bowl of strong tea and sit in the yard, you can see the high blue sky and hear the pigeons flying in the blue sky.
From the bottom of Sophora japonica leaves, counting a ray of sunshine leaking to the east, or in the broken waist, facing the blue morning glory like morning glory, you can naturally feel the autumn breath. When it comes to morning glory, I think blue or white is the best, followed by purple and black, and pink is the lowest. It is best to have a few sparse and slender autumn grasses as a foil at the bottom of the morning glory.
The locust tree in the northland is also an ornament that can remind people of Qiu Lai. Like a flower, but not a flower, when you get up in the morning, it will be all over the floor. When you step on it, there is no sound, no smell, only a little tiny and soft touch.
After sweeping the street in the shade, the silk pattern of the broom that fell on the dust looks exquisite and leisurely, and subconsciously feels a little lonely. The ancient dream that the world knows autumn is in these depths.
Qiu Chan's faint lingering sound is the characteristic of the northland. Because there are trees everywhere in Beiping and the houses are low, you can hear them everywhere. In the south, you have to go to the suburbs or mountains to hear it. Qiu Chan sounds like a cricket and a mouse in the north, just like a housefly that every family keeps at home.
There is also autumn rain. The autumn rain in the north seems to be stranger, more delicious and more decent than that in the south.
Under the gloomy sky, a cool breeze suddenly came and it began to rain. After a layer of rain, the clouds gradually rolled west. It is sunny again, and the sun comes out again. City idlers wearing thick green cloth and jackets bit their pipes and stood under the bridge after the rain. When they meet acquaintances, they will say with a sigh in a slow and leisurely tone:
"Oh, it's cold-""This word is pronounced very high and dragged on for a long time. )
"Isn't it? A layer of autumn rain is cold! "
People in the north always read array words like stacked words, flat and even. This mispronounced rhyme is just right.
Fruit trees in the north are also a great spectacle in autumn. First of all, jujube trees, corners, walls, toilets and kitchen doors will all grow up.
This kind of jujube, like olive and pigeon eggs, is light green and yellowish in the middle of small oval leaves. This is the peak of autumn. When the leaves of jujube trees fall and the dates are red, there will be a northwest wind. Convenience in the north is a dusty world. Only these dates, persimmons and grapes are ripe until the turn of July and August, which is a good day for clear autumn in the north, and it is a year.
Some critics say that China's bachelor of arts, especially poets, are full of decadent colors, so there are many words praising autumn in China's poems. But what about foreign poets? Although I don't read many foreign poems and essays, and I don't want to write bills for autumn poems and essays, if you look through the anthology of poets in Britain, Germany, France and Italy, or the anthology of poems and essays from various countries, you will always see many autumn praises and sad cries.
In the long pastoral poems or poems of the four seasons by famous great poets, the part about autumn is always the most exciting and interesting. It serves to show that sentient animals and interesting human beings can always cause deep, distant, severe and bleak feelings for autumn.
Not only poets, but also prisoners in prison. In autumn, I think I will definitely feel a deep affection. In autumn, there is no country, and there is no difference between race and class.
In China, there is an idiom "Autumn Life" in the text, and there are very common readers such as Ouyang Zi's Autumn Sound and Su Dongpo's Red Cliff Fu. I feel that the relationship between literati in China and Qiuhe is particularly deep, but the strong flavor of autumn, especially that of China, must be felt in the north.
Autumn in the south, of course, also has its unique places, such as the bright moon on the Twenty-four Bridges, the autumn tide in Qiantang River, the cool fog in Putuo Mountain, the residual lotus in Lizhi Bay and so on. , but the color is not strong and the aftertaste is not lasting. Compared with Qiu Lai in the north, it's just yellow rice wine dried in vain, porridge steamed in white, perch white crab, yellow dog white camel.
Autumn, autumn in the north, if I can stay, I would like to fold two-thirds of my life for a third of it. ?
In Beijing in August 1934.
This is the essay Autumn in the Old Capital written by Yu Dafu, a famous modern novelist, essayist, poet and revolutionary martyr in China, on August 1934.
I'm very upset these days. Sitting in the yard enjoying the cool tonight, I suddenly remembered the lotus pond I walked through every day. It should look different under the light of this full moon. The moon rises gradually, and the children's laughter on the road outside the wall can no longer be heard; My wife is patting and skipping in the room, humming a sleeping song in a daze. I slipped on a big shirt and ran out the door.
Along the lotus pond, there is a winding little cinder road. This is a secluded road; Few people walk during the day, and it is lonely at night. Around the lotus pond, there are many trees and lush. On one side of the road, there are some willows and some trees with unknown names. On a moonless night, the road is gloomy and a little scary. It's fine tonight, although the moonlight is still very weak.
I was the only one on the road, walking around with my hands behind my back. This world seems to be mine; I also like to go beyond my usual self and go to another world. I love excitement and peace; Like to live in groups, like to be alone.
Just like tonight, under this boundless moon, a person thinks about everything and thinks nothing, and feels like a free person. What must be done and said during the day can be ignored now. This is the beauty of being alone, and I will enjoy the boundless moonlight with lotus fragrance.
On the winding lotus pond, Tian Tian's leaves are scattered. The leaves are high out of the water, like an elegant dancer's skirt. Layers of leaves are dotted with some white flowers, some of which bloom gracefully and some are in bud shyly; Like a pearl, like a star in the blue sky, like a beauty who just took a bath.
The breeze blew, sending wisps of fragrance, like a faint song on a tall building in the distance. At this time, the leaves and flowers also trembled slightly, like lightning, passing through the lotus pond in an instant. The leaves are close side by side, so there are clear wave marks. Below the leaves is flowing water, which is covered and can't see some colors; Leaves are more exposed to the wind.
Moonlight, like running water, falls quietly on this leaf and flower. A thin layer of blue mist floats in the lotus pond. Leaves and flowers seem to have been washed in milk; Like a dream in a sarong. Although it is a full moon, there are faint clouds in the sky, so it can't shine; But I think this is just a benefit-deep sleep is indispensable, and nap is unique.
Moonlight shines through the trees, and the bushes at the height cast uneven and mottled shadows, which are as steep as ghosts; The sparse shadows of curved willows seem to be painted on lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond is uneven; But light and shadow have a harmonious melody, such as a famous song played in the Vatican.
Around the lotus pond, there are trees far and near, and willows are the most. These trees surround a lotus pond; Only on one side of the path, there are some gaps, which seem to be reserved for moonlight. An example of the color of trees is cloudy, which at first glance looks like a cloud of smoke; But the abundance of willows can be recognized in the smoke.
There are distant mountains on the treetops, just a little careless. There are still one or two lamps leaking through the cracks in the tree. What is listless is the eyes of those who are sleepy. At this time, the most lively are cicadas in the tree and frogs in the water; But the excitement is theirs. I have nothing.
I suddenly remembered the matter of picking lotus. Lotus picking is an ancient custom in the south of the Yangtze River. It seems to have a long history, but it flourished in the Six Dynasties. You can get a rough idea from this poem. Lotus pickers are teenage girls, swinging boats and singing bright songs. Needless to say, there are many lotus pickers. It was a lively season and a romantic season. Emperor Liang Yuan put it well in "Lotus Picking Fu":
So the demon is a virgin, and she wants to boat; The snipe makes a first promise and passes the feather cup; I can move, algae can hang, boats can move and sail. Erqi slim waist bundle element, Yan Gubu; After long summer, in late spring, leaves are tender and flowers are early. I'm afraid of touching the petticoats and laughing, and I'm afraid of leaning over the boat and getting together.
It can be seen that there were wandering scenes at that time. This is really interesting, but unfortunately we are not happy now.
Later, I remembered, the sentence in "Xizhou Song":
Lotus is picked in autumn in Nantang, and the lotus is over the head; With his head down, he fiddled with the lotus seeds in the water, which were as green as the lake.
If there are lotus pickers tonight, the lotus here will be considered "over the top"; You can't just see some shadows of running water. This makes me really miss Jiangnan. -think like this, suddenly look up and feel that it is already your own door; Gently pushed the door in, there was no sound, and my wife had slept for a long time.
1July, 927, Beijing Tsinghua Campus.
This is an essay written by China writer Zhu Ziqing when he was teaching in Tsinghua University-Moonlight on the Lotus Pond.
4. Go to Xianyan for the second time and marvel at the green of plum rain pool.
Plum rain pool is a waterfall pool. There are three waterfalls in Xianyan, and Meiyu Waterfall is the lowest. When I walked to the side of the mountain, I heard the sound of rushing; Looking up, a piece of shiny white water appeared in front of me with two wet black edges. Let's go to Meiyu Pavilion first. Meiyu Pavilion faces the waterfall; Sitting on the edge of the pavilion, you can see all this without looking up.
Deep under the pavilion is the Meiyu Pool. The pavilion stands in a prominent corner of the rock, and it is empty from top to bottom; Like an eagle spreading its wings and flying in the sky. There are mountains on three sides, like a half ring; People are at the bottom of the well. It's cloudy in autumn. Slight clouds flow over our heads; There is a little oil on the rock surface and grass, and it is green because of humidity.
And the waterfall seems to be particularly loud. The waterfall rushed down from above, as if it had been torn into strands; It is no longer a neat and smooth cloth. There are many edges and corners on the rock; When the waterfall flows, it makes a sharp crash and splashes like flying flowers and broken jade. The splashing water is crystal clear and full of awns; From a distance, like a small white plum, it rained one after another.
It is said that this is the reason why Meiyu Pool got its name. But I think it is more accurate to be like Huayang. The breeze rises, and it drifts a little with the wind, which is more beautiful. At this time, I accidentally sent a few minutes into our warm arms, and then I got into it and couldn't find it anymore.
The sparkling green of Meiyu pool attracts us; We started chasing her clutch light. Grasping the grass, climbing the rocks, leaning down carefully and bowing on a stone dome door, we reached the edge of the swimming pool. Waterfalls are between sleeves; But there is no waterfall in my heart. My heart swings with the green of the pool.
Intoxicating green, like a huge lotus leaf, is covered with strange green. I want to embrace her with open arms; But what an illusion this is. Standing at the water's edge and looking at that side, it actually feels a little far away! This paved thick green is really cute. She wrinkled loosely, like a skirt dragged by a young woman, and she fiddled with it gently; Like a beating first love virgin's heart.
She is smooth and bright, like "bright oil", as soft as egg white, so tender, without dust, like a moist jasper, with only clear colors, but you can't see through her! I have seen the poplars in Shichahai, Beijing, and I can't get rid of the yellow background. It seems too weak. I have seen a tall and dense "green wall" next to the Tiger Running Temple in Hangzhou. The endless green grass and leaves seem too thick.
The rest, the waves in the West Lake are too bright, and the water in Qinhuai River is too dark. Cute, can I compare with you? How to compare? Probably this pool is deep, so it can accommodate such a strange green color; As if the blue sky had melted into it, it was so fresh. That intoxicating green! If I can cut your ribbon, I will give it to the dancer of light; She will be able to float in the wind.
If I can fan your eyes, I will give it to the blind girl who is good at singing; She will have a pair of bright eyes. I am reluctant to part with you; How can I give up on you? I patted you and touched you with my hand, like a little girl of twelve or thirteen. I touched your entrance again and kissed her. I'll give you a name, and I'll call you "green daughter" from now on, okay?
The second time I went to Xianyan, I couldn't help but marvel at the green of Meiyu Pool.
This is a landscape prose written by Zhu Ziqing, a modern essayist in China, in February 1924-Green.
5. Swallows have gone, and when they come again; Willow withered, there is a time to green again; Peach blossoms have withered, but they will bloom again. But, smart, tell me, why are our days gone forever? Someone stole them: who is that? Where is it hidden? They escaped by themselves.-Where are they now?
I don't know how many days they gave me, but my hands are getting empty. Counting silently, more than 8,000 days have slipped away from me quietly, like a drop of water on the tip of a needle in the sea. My days are dripping in the stream of time, without sound or shadow. I can't help bursting into tears.
Go wherever you go, and come wherever you come; What's the hurry between going and coming? When I get up in the morning, two or three sunsets shoot into the hut. The sun has feet, and it has moved gently and quietly; I also follow the rotation blankly. So-when washing your hands, the days pass from the basin; When eating, the days pass from the rice bowl; When I was silent, I passed by my eyes.
I think he is in a hurry. When I reached out to cover my arm, he passed by the covered hand again. When I was lying in bed at dark, he passed me and flew away from my feet. When I open my eyes and see the sun again, it will be a new day. I covered my face and sighed. But the shadow of the new day began to flash with a sigh.
What can I do in the days when I fly away, in the world of thousands of families? Only wandering, only running; In the rush of more than 8,000 days, what is left except wandering? The past days, like smoke, were scattered by the breeze, like fog, evaporated by Chu Yang; What traces did I leave?
Did I leave traces like hairspring? I came into this world naked, and I will go back naked in the blink of an eye? But it can't be flat. Why did you come for nothing this time?
You are very clever. Tell me, why are our days gone forever?
This is a well-known essay written by Zhu Ziqing, an outstanding essayist in modern times-In a hurry.