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He has been feeling very lonely and cold recently.
His precocious temperament pushed him to a position that was absolutely incompatible with the world, and the gap between the world and him was getting higher and higher.
The weather is getting colder every day, and his school is starting for half a month. It was September 22nd.
Wan Li is clear, Wan Li is cloudless, and the ever-changing sun is still on her trajectory, and she is going there step by step. The breeze blowing from the south, like the dew from sobering up, has a fragrance and blows up in waves. In the middle of the yellow and tender rice fields, on the winding rural road like a white line, he walked slowly with a six-inch long collection of poems in his hand. On this great plain, there is no figure around; I don't know where the dog barks in the distance. The tremor reached his eardrum. His eyes left the book, and he looked at the place where the dog barked in a trance, but he saw a bunch of miscellaneous trees, several people, and a thin mirage floating there, like gauze on roof tiles and like fish scales. "Oh, you quiet gossamer! You beautiful hairspring! "
This let out a cry and two lines of clear tears welled up in his eyes, and he didn't know why.
After watching it for a long time, he suddenly felt a purple breath blowing behind him. As soon as the breath rang, a grass on the roadside broke his dream. Turning around, he saw that the grass was still swaying, and the breeze with violet breath was blowing gently to his pale face. In this quiet early autumn world, in this clear and transparent ether, his body feels as soft as being intoxicated. He seems to sleep in the loving mother's arms. It seems that he dreamed of what it was like in the Peach Blossom Garden. He seems to be on the coast of southern Europe, lying on his lover's lap and taking a nap there.
He looked around and felt that the plants around him were smiling at him. Look at the sky, feel the endless nature and nod slightly there. He looked at the sky motionless for a while and felt a group of little gods dancing there, with wings on their backs and bows and arrows on their shoulders. He felt extremely happy. Then unconsciously opened his mouth wide and said to himself:
"This is your refuge. Ordinary people in the world envy you, laugh at you and fool you; " Only this nature, ever-changing sky and bright sunshine, summer breeze and fresh air in early autumn are your friends, your loving mother or your lover. You don't have to go to the world to be with those frivolous men and women. You are in the embrace of nature, and this simple country will perish. "
The words came out again, and he felt sorry for himself, as if Qian Qian was absolutely sad, lying in his chest, unable to say it at once. With a pair of clear tears, his eyes saw the book in his hand again.
Look at her, alone in the field,
You lonely highland girl!
Harvesting and singing alone;
Let's stop here and pass it gently!
She cut and bound the grain by herself,
Singing a melancholy tune;
Oh, listen! Because the valley is deep
Flow with the sound.
After reading this section, he suddenly turned over a page and looked at the third section in a daze.
Nobody told me what she sang? -
Maybe sad numbers are flowing.
For old, unpleasant, distant things, and battles long ago:
Or some more humble level,
Familiar things today?
Some natural sadness, loss or pain,
This has happened before, and it may happen again.
This is also one of his recent habits. When reading, there is no order. Hundreds of books, not to mention dozens of pamphlets, such as Emerson's On Nature and Thoreau's Hiking, have not been finished. When he first opened a book, he read four lines and five lines or one page and two pages. Every time he is moved by that book, he can't wait to swallow it in one breath. After reading three or four pages, he felt sorry. His heart seemed to say:
"A wonderful book like this should not be read in one breath, but should be chewed carefully. After I finish reading it at once, my desire will have to be extinguished. At that time, I will have no good hopes and no dreams. What should I do? "
Although I have such a longing in my heart, I am actually a little tired in my heart. By this time, he always put the book aside and stopped reading. A few days or hours later, he read another book with the same enthusiasm as when he first read that book; The books that touched him a few days ago or a few days ago will be forgotten by him.
After reading two poems by Wei Chivos loudly, I suddenly want to translate this poem into China.
"Lonely Highland Reaper" he thought for a moment. Only the poem "The Man Who Cut the Land Alone" has such a translation.
"Look at that girl, she is alone in the field.
Look at that girl on the plateau over there, she's all alone!
She sang while cutting rice there;
She suddenly stopped, suddenly passed, light posture, exquisite scenery!
She mowed the grass alone and tied the rice again.
The folk songs she sang were quite sad;
Listen, listen! This valley is deep,
Full of her clear singing.
Can someone say no? What is she singing?
Or her countless idiotic behaviors.
Singing the lamentation of the previous generation,
Or the battle of the previous dynasty, with thousands of troops;
Or some folk songs.
Is it home talk now?
Or some natural sorrow, inevitable sorrow, natural sorrow.
Although these things are memories of the past, there will still be people accusing them in the future. "
After he finished the translation in one breath, he suddenly got bored again and said with self-mockery and remorse:
"What is this? Isn't it as boring as a church hymn?
"English poetry is English poetry and Chinese poetry is Chinese poetry. Why do you have to translate it back and forth?"
After saying this, he unconsciously smiled slightly. Looking around, the sun has set; On the other side of the great plain, on the horizon of the west, there is a high mountain floating there, which has suffered the afterglow of a day. A hazy mist is brewing around the mountain, reflecting purple.
When he was in a daze there, he snorted and coughed. Suddenly a farmer came behind him. Looking back, he changed the smile on his face into a melancholy face, as if afraid of being seen.
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