Maybe she didn't exist in history, but she left indelibly without any flaws. With unfinished dreams, she sacrificed to leave and instantly sublimated her role to another realm. Although, or rather, she is just a legend on the Anatolian plateau in the14th century, there is no way to verify it, but she has written all the cruelty of history. The darkest moment in politics and the simple and direct brushwork seem to have cast all this into the dry ruins, the vicissitudes of life under broken walls, the touching red land and the long yellow sand today. ...
Few works express death in such an open-minded way. The script that comes naturally, the scene that shocks the soul, is irreparable and irresistible. There is no dialogue, no thinking, only cheers and sunset, all of which are expressed. Among all the supporting actors who passed away, the death of Ursula (translated as Ursulan in the new edition) is the most shocking scene in the original. Although I am an adult and used to watching the ups and downs of life and death and years, I still can't let go of this kind of self-sacrifice. At that time, I was worried about how the protagonist would be rehabilitated, but the author interspersed this ingenious pen in the story. When you are still immersed in the emotion that Prince Senasha died under the yellow sand, the death of Yurusla came as promised in this whitewashed empire. Once, I thought "Tian Hong" was just a cartoon for girls, but it seems that you can't understand it until you have read all the history related to it and learned about its related times. If death is so romantic, or death is so sad ...
I once thought about writing her a souvenir, but it was too late to start writing. In her story, the words are too barren and pale to describe that kind of emotion. Numerous struggles in my heart have made it impossible for me to sort out the order of this passage with sudden thoughts, and sometimes I even feel that I should write a eulogy for her. Actually, I was wrong. Her death seems to be the most valuable death in the whole work. Without deliberate rendering, a few simple shots, such as the bloody sunset and Ka Xiu's tears, have already expressed everything, and I can't add words to make it all clear.
"I dreamed of living with you, card. We had many children and grew old together. After we die, future generations will bury us together. "
"However, I also had a bigger dream, that is, Kailu was the emperor and Miss Xili was the imperial concubine, standing beside him."
"Under the governance of the two of them, this country will surely become strong. People don't have to endure hunger, and they don't have to be afraid of war. Everyone can live in peace. "
"So for this bigger dream, I gave up my dream ..."
By the Red River-Like a legend, even today, Hittite Empire has always been a mystery. It used to have moderns for more than 100 years, crushing the ancient civilizations of ancient Babylon and Egypt like a lighthouse, but no one knew that in its history, there was such a seemingly insignificant role who made such a tearful remark. The earliest empire was in chaos, and even the whole "Sky Red" gave readers a sense of fighting, but the author did not emphasize this method a lot, but put pressure on the protagonist with various sudden scripts, and there seemed to be no chance to breathe from beginning to end. I read the whole story for the first time, almost all night. When I closed the book, it was dusk.
It was the most primitive era of slavery, along with Hittites, ancient Egypt and ancient Babylon. It was an era when civilization was born, and this story was told against this background, the most primitive farming, the enslaved thought, and the unfair era when kingship was supreme. In this era, everything is like dust in the wind. Today, it seems to be a long and illusory history, but if you read it carefully, where will that feeling stay? There was once a teenager who liked to wear a white sweatshirt. After reading this story, he suddenly felt that the years were more profound. If life wants me to do something, then I think loving the land under my feet is the starting point. The people in the story and the ideals in their hearts are moving forward step by step. In this process, there is no lack of dark side in politics. When you lock your destiny in a little girl's life, at that moment, two parallel lines that should not intersect, but the most brilliant spark. People outside the story seem to have choked up when they saw this scene, and tears can no longer express this regret.
In the whole work, there are many dead characters, but the death of Yurusla has the greatest influence on me. Perhaps it is "even if she dies, her spirit of death will still be misinterpreted by kind subjects", but she knows this well, bears this grievance, and voluntarily chooses to sacrifice, just for a bigger dream. Every magical moment, the sunset in the sky is like blood, looking at the Red River flowing far away, which is creepy. It is said that if there is such a red sunset, all ghosts will appear in black and pink at this moment, ghosts will haunt, livestock will tremble, people will panic, and she will die at this moment. It seems that the sunset is afraid to see her leave this world, but, but. Uluras is the biggest highlight of the whole work, and her death is also the most painful part of the whole work. The story in the whole work is repeated and reversed in Crisis and Peace. Maybe the author didn't mean to design this passage. Perhaps, perhaps, no matter how much, this impact on the soul can not be annihilated.
Life cannot be repeated, even if it is a story, a person's departure will always reshape the world's cognition. ...
When I was a child, I was most afraid of facing death. As I grow up and get used to countless stories, it seems that everything in this world becomes easy. Even so, in the face of this script, the uncontrollable primitive human nature will still touch every nerve of the body, be infected, be shaken, and finally shed tears involuntarily. I thought this feeling had passed with time. Time has taken away the former teenager and the deep affection of the teenager. Stories and memories seem to break the continuity of time, and those emotional fragments scattered in the years meet again because of such an experience.
I used to be afraid to read historical stories, which always described ups and downs, just like the sentence written at the end of the work: "Turkey is about 150 km east of Ankara, in the middle of Anatolia Plateau, the remains of Hattusha surrounded by the Red River are still sleeping quietly, leaving only the overgrown cornerstone and the dry breeze from time to time ...". The final outcome of this kind of story must be death, regret and memory residue. These remnants will always leave a series of reflective, sentimental and air-dried broken walls, which makes people sad. I used to think that it was a pity that the work was not animated at the end, which would reduce the appeal of music. But when I think about it, maybe this is perfection. I can fill too much music in line with this scene at the moment when Uluras died, but I can't fill the incompleteness in her heart. Similarly, I can fill colors with fantasy and render the world with words in any black-and-white scene, but I can't really fill what I want to express in this story.
Spring goes to winter, and years follow. Every time I enter the story, my mood becomes addicted. This addiction seems to prove that I have a heart that spans thousands of years with it. It also proves that whether it is a bustling city with colorful lights or a fairyland on earth with winding paths, emotions will penetrate the air and be filled with the will to survive. Living, regardless of age, race and country, needs a dream to support. Maybe you will die on this road, but this ending seems to be the best destination for the grave. The death of Uluras perfectly illustrates the sacrifice for dreams. Without that cliche, readers won't notice. It will come suddenly like a shock. If you think about it carefully, you will have an epiphany. It turns out that all this is natural, and the story is told like this, which makes you feel unfinished.
I don't want to analyze the details of the story, because there is no such excellent pen and ink to write the broken shadow of her story. Life in a story is always so dull, but the story seems to have happened in a previous life. I know that I will eventually climb out of the story and fall into the chaos of reality. No matter how reluctant you are, stories will bring courage and light to people. In the concerto of story and life, I constantly reshape this cognition, whether it is fear, confusion, emotion or excitement. No matter what kind of emotion, it can supplement the dullness of life, make everything romantic, and be full of countless persistence to face the unknown confusion.
"The white dew is frost, and the so-called Iraqis are on the water side." In fact, ancient life has always been full of fantasy and romance. Maybe sometimes I feel more suitable to live in ancient times? There has always been a saying in the city: "Life is not only about the present, but also about poetry and distance." Perhaps, the stories and books I have read have always stated the charm of life. When some music is in my ear and some characters are in my heart, I can't face life indifferently, because it makes me understand where the distance in life is and what kind of poetry life is brewing.
This time, I was moved by the sight of Urulas. Next time, I may be moved by the rain in crosby. Life will stop and walk in this rhythm until one day I am tired, close my eyes and never wake up.
It is hard to imagine using words to pay homage to the characters in a story, and it is hard to imagine that this kind of memorial makes you so delicate. When you are tired of life and can't put it down, can you have a cup of green tea to dilute your confusion?
The setting sun is like fire, the waning moon is like blood, and the red river flows slowly under your feet, telling the legend of thousands of years ago, regardless of years and time, the story has been passed down.
There is green hair hidden in the bun, which has entered the residual volume early and the tree is yellow. I saw it before I died. I should have written this letter. I'm tired of it. These words are cheap. At night, the code word is not in the dark, I will be happy all my life, knowing that this road is not easy, and looking for it more. Di Ku is eight yuan. He is diligent, loyal and careful in his words. His uncle is very polite when giving gifts. Ji is beautiful and elegant, and Bo Hu is diligent. Brother Zhong takes the people as his own, and Uncle Bao does not seek benefits. Li Ji is kind and thinks he is moral. He pursues land and casts swords with snow. He is a cadre, Mo Xie and Xuanyuan. In the four counties of Tianshui, Kirin was born, cars were decorated, and the ancients swam downstream, laughing and carving boats for swords. It is not cold since winter, and it is not inflamed or tired in summer. Liang Ju walked forward, but didn't stop. It was the road he had learned and persisted. People are compared to incense, silk and bamboo lure water. When the water is full, it overflows, as if wandering all the way. Every time I think about it, I stay up all night. Where is Urulas? In fact, she was always here and never left.