Thank you for your company, which makes this journey more fragrant and gorgeous.
-inscription
It has been more than twenty years since I met Juanzi. Our friendship is like a pearl washed away by time. The longer it takes, the more it shines, emitting the agarwood of the years.
Knowing Juan is legendary because of a poem.
More than 20 years ago, I just dropped out of school and was depressed at home all day. Facing my parents who worked hard all their lives at sunrise and rested at sunset, I secretly worried about my bleak future, and my heart was full of anxiety. I don't want to spend my life monotonous and tired on this barren hillside. In depressed days, poetry has become the only soul I can talk to. So every lonely night, a person quietly writes my feelings on plain stationery at the window of moonlight or drizzle.
One day, as usual, listening to a literary column of the beloved provincial radio station, the beautiful voice of the female announcer suddenly quoted a deja vu name and recited two beautiful and sad poems:
A girl who writes poems.
At the corner of her mouth
A full bloom.
Beautiful sunflower
Just one summer.
dried-up
From then on, she hated sunshine.
Take out all your feelings.
In the rainy season.
Rain understands her, and she understands rain.
Later, the rain left.
She began to feel lonely.
Pick up a pen.
Remembered the memories in the rain
Memories are like vines
I often climb to the top of my hometown.
The road is still tortuous.
Curved, holding my childhood. ...
When I woke up, I wrote these two poems myself, and my ecstasy was beyond words. Unfortunately, there is no one around to share with me.
In those days, the excitement has been around me, making me excited, and I seem to see the ideal dawn blooming in front of my eyes.
A few days later, the same program, and broadcast a poem addressed to me, "send you a round of the sun":
The same sky.
Why is it raining there?
It is because of the rain that the road under our feet twists and turns.
How I want to send you a bright sun.
Because only the sun has eternal glory.
The author who wrote me a peace poem is Juan. A petite and clever girl. Clear eyes, there is a pure dream.
The fate between Juanjuan and me, due to the fulfillment of poetry and the budding of friendship, quietly bloomed in that early spring.
Juan's family lives in a township, and her father runs a small business, which is much better than my family. She knows many friends and classmates and can borrow many books and subscribe to magazines such as Poetry Magazine. This is really like a duck to water for me who lives in an isolated mountain village and has no way to ask for books everywhere.
So every rainy day, when there are few people in the farmland, I quietly run to Juanjia. I chose this day because I was afraid that the villagers would see me and say that I had nothing to do.
Every time we meet, we are both very happy. The same situation and hobbies make the hearts of the two girls closely linked. Juanjuan's book, read it once, lent it to me, and then let others borrow it (only poetry magazines are rarely borrowed). Juanjuan is a gentle and generous person who never refuses others. Often when a book finally returns to her hand, it is already skin and bones and beyond recognition.
At that time, the books I could find were really limited, so I cherished them even more. Sometimes I get a famous saying or a good poem, so I quickly copy it down and enjoy it with Juanjuan.
That is, at that time, I became familiar with He Zhu, Liu Yong and Li Qingzhao, and I was deeply intoxicated by the beautiful artistic conception of "Yang Liuan, the breeze and the waning moon", "a misty rain on a river, the wind all over the city, and the plum yellow rain".
In Juanzi, I was lucky enough to read several world famous works, such as Gone with the Wind, Busy Cow and La Traviata.
It's raining in Mao Mao, and two girls are immersed in their dreams, walking silently on a small road in the country. A small oil-paper umbrella opened a sunny day. The bamboo forest in the east of the village is more green after the baptism of rain. The river flows around the bamboo forest, and the flowers on the shore are fragrant.
Juan said that every night with the moon, she would come as scheduled, sit by the river, watch the moon and play the flute.
What a beautiful picture it will be. The moonlight is charming, the water mist is hazy, just like a jade girl, and the flute is curled up. ...
So I knew Juanjuan's soft heart, that little secret, that boy at the same table, deeply loved, and the candlelight of self-study at night warmed many beautiful memories. Now, the mountains and rivers are far away, and the boy is studying in a foreign land, but Juan has fallen behind as a farmer. An invisible barrier separates two people.
"I don't know what happened to you now. ...
Your smile is very important to my life.
How have you been these years?
Do you feel a little old occasionally?
Love like an adult
Sometimes in a bad mood
Please believe that I am by your side, don't forget.
As long as you live better than me.
Live better than me.
Nothing is difficult ... "
Juanjuan hummed softly, and a faint sadness swept over her calm face.
Juanjuan quietly cut off the green shoots in her heart. She said, I can't keep up with his footsteps, so I have to send my blessing silently.
Juanjuan is getting married, and she promised an honest young man in the village. In a hurry.
I couldn't accept it, so I asked her quietly. Won't you write and ask what that person means?
She smiled bitterly: I don't want to drag him down.
I am disappointed to see a girl with a dream in bud who has become a traditional woman before spreading her wings and entered the rigid life of pots and pans.
So I left the mountain village with my workmates regardless of Juan's hard work. I don't want to live another life.
In the following years, I refused to contact anyone in the bustling city after all kinds of hardships. Yes, I am a little girl from the countryside, and I have no ability. In this cold reinforced concrete structure, what can they give me except cynicism or indifference? Stubborn, I gritted my teeth and let the wandering bitterness swallow alone.
Come back down and out, very uneasy, standing in front of the trickling water, hesitating, shouting: trickling water! There was an urgent cry from the room at once: alas! Is it light rain?
Tears welled up in my eyes. Five or six years passed, more than two thousand days passed, and there was no news at all. It is unforgettable that Juanjuan can recognize my voice at once.
That night, two girls reunited after a long separation stayed up all night and had a long talk. The experience of these years has turned into running water, gurgling out. Speaking of happiness, the two clapped their hands and laughed. Speaking of sadness, Juanzi accompanied me to shed sad tears.
I burst into tears when I thought of his letter "Going to Sea" with no reply date. Juanjuan hugged me tightly, and for a long time, she silently endured this unspeakable pain with me.
I have traveled all over Qian Shan, and only you are the harbor where I go home when I am physically and mentally exhausted; After all my troubles, Juanzi, when I am mentally confused, only you are my home.
The sage said: a thousand dollars is easy to get, but a bosom friend is hard to find. Juanzi, how lucky I am to meet you on the long road of life.
Now, more than ten years have passed. I have walked out of the haze of that year, taken root in the city, opened a small shop, and Juanjuan also set up an embroidery factory in the town. It's not very popular, but it's ok. In our spare time, we exchange phone calls and chat. When inspiration comes, we will write some poems, or make an appointment to go for a walk in the wild, see the mountains and play with petty bourgeoisie. The years passed silently, leaving some vicissitudes on our faces. The only things that can't be changed are two innocent young hearts and an eternal friendship.
I wrote a song "Small Town Women" for Juan:
Live by the water
A lotus, parked in town.
Time flies. Those days that were washed away by water.
Warm as ever
Symphony of pots and pans
Under your dexterous fingers
A brisk picking
The swaying bamboo shadow in front of the window
Time is like a cloud.
Slip away from your fingertips
-Dreams are like rainbows.
Tian ye mai Xiang
Look at the window opposite you.
The newly-built factory is on your site.
In poetry, it sparkles.
Cicadas chirp on poplars
I hurt my autumn eyes.
You, the dream of a female entrepreneur.
Bloom on chrysanthemums
Tired, have a seat.
Fold the laurel into a pen.
Describe the life of a modern woman as freehand brushwork.
Put the mother's dowry at the bottom of the box
Circle the father's back into the poem.
Town woman
You're wearing shiny leather boots
Measure the distance from food and clothing to well-off life
……
Sunset, full of dusk
You, save a poem.
Walking into the night, a flute
Sound, sound and rhyme
A woman who writes poetry.
Let a small town walk into poetry.
On that day, in the botanical garden, sitting by the flowing water with flowers and trees, I was shocked to recall the past: it has been more than 20 years with a flick of my finger, looking at each other, the touch of youth is still lingering, and it seems that it is not too old; My heart is still green, as if the two girls were walking in the rain and talking about poetry. "It doesn't matter if you smile at each other."
Juan said that I don't know why chatting with others often feels like a waste of time, but when we are together, we feel natural and comfortable.
Yeah, me too?
Our friendship, like a lake accumulated by years, is getting deeper and warmer with the passage of time.
Juan, it is enough to have you as my friend in my life!