Some walls in the village still exist because people in the village use stones excessively.
I can imagine that under the previous stage, men and women, old and young, singing operas, selling incense, burning fires, selling meatball soup, flirting, stealing chickens and touching dogs and so on. They all started around the opposite Hall of the Great Hero. Dancing immortals buzzed like bees and proudly opposed the cigarette-filled and crowded stage. There are always wrinkled faces and soft bones between them.
At that time, when we went to the village to watch opera, we rushed into the mountain.
Shantuo is really small, with a dozen stone houses and green grass everywhere. Some flowers are blooming, just like the tattered coat on the little girl, which looks strange. A temple, towering in the middle of the village, has several white clouds floating from the rolling hills. The glazed tiles on the ridge of the temple are covered by clouds. A group of unknown birds whistled and flew up and down, beating a little, setting off the lush mountains behind them. The yellow-green ripples at the top of these temples are more chiseled and dazzling. The red temple walls, upturned cornices, and sandpipers must have touched the atmosphere of world civilization among people's countless goodwill. Firecrackers sounded, grinning people lit incense and knelt down. The high incense is filled with smoke, and the Buddha-seekers restore their imaginary life according to their own desires.
I peeked at the old man selling incense. She is comparing two bank notes. She put the obviously clean one in her pocket and the other in her hand, waiting for the change. She murmured, it's time for you to light a wick. Look at those drivers. Some people burned incense around in their last lives.
It is good to regard money as auspicious happiness. Is the alternation of the old and the new a good mood for her survival? ! Gao Xiang just wants to sort out a clean, tasteless and solemn place to speak. So, how much does its meaning have to do with height? I turned and walked out of the temple gate, wondering what kind of gods and buddhas were supporting inside. Now I think, like the Buddha holding high the lotus throne, he has a plump face.
It's May, and the rape blossoms in Huang Cancan are in full bloom, with hazy water vapor and clear water, and the seedlings are growing. It should be a very happy thing to be noticed and remembered at the same time. Love is ordinary, caring, always thinking of the person you love, let the water of time pass, so you see the simple old man. He is picking a handful of water and walking into the rape field. He bent down and stood upright on a clod in the middle of the flower field. He stood abruptly, humming a cheerful tune and doing his meaningful work freely in the rape field. So, what crops are still growing in the rape field? Why build a temple in such a quiet and far-reaching village? The builder of the temple must have a dream close to realization.
Stone mill There is a peach blossom, sparse and oblique. Peach blossoms set each other off in red, peach blossoms meet again in spring, pushing new makeup to try on Xiaohong, and washing the world for him ... You see, with peach blossoms, everything must have romantic implications. Peach blossoms stick out from the wall of a small yard. No one lives in the yard, and the weeds blown by the spring breeze grow wildly. Spring Festival couplets are posted on both sides of Shijia gate: "Spring breeze sends warmth and drives away cold, and happiness does not forget to repay kindness." What a warm person, like Chun Xue, will warm up in the sun. I approached it and wrote it down. A stone house where no one lives, warm couplets, very tasty.
Look at the sky. There are clouds in the sky, and clouds have no roots. The world says that clouds have a state of mind that transcends things. Yes, that cloud, at sixes and sevens, snuggles in the arms of the mountain to play. Who can say that chaos is not a great realm? Like this Sanduo family, they only keep their old house and a constant life. Work at sunrise, rest at sunset, have children, build a house, smoke a few cigarettes, look at a few clouds, feel at ease, shout a few yangko songs in the fields, and breathe some life. Can you say that this is not a kind of happiness? Actually, happiness is a kind of self-feeling, and experience exists in the process of feeling. Happiness is difficult to talk about and incomprehensible. Just like this cloud, it's normal that clouds fly and fall.
Like people, clouds are a process of life. Sitting and watching the clouds low is like seeing the inaction and ignorance of a life. Cloud's home is a mountain, a river, a lake, grass and a forest. Quiet nature means the eternal home of mankind.
The richness of mountains, water, grass, wood, life, wisdom, labor and sweat. Rape flowers, let us know that introspection and peace are a beautiful quality in the cycle of life, let us know that after climbing the mountain, it is an eternal peace and dignity.
I approached the old man. I said, what are you watering?
"Water the trees on the grave, evergreen pine and cypress."
He showed me with his finger that the woman who left before him stayed there. So relaxed, it can be said that there is no sadness, but, as if, this is true, just like a past that continues life. The old man narrowed his eyes. Some things are really hard to keep, and many people are complicated. At this age, if there is pain, it will always accompany you all your life, so don't waste your spare time for it.
The old man walked past me calmly.
His wife is there, in the rape field, waiting for the dear widow. The distance between the moon and the earth must be poetic and romantic. Counting the dates with her fingers, one day for two days, the peasant woman was unhurried and surprisingly stable. Waiting for the rape field that is still rotating in four seasons, she is the most determined person in the world.
One day, the old man will return to the hut and start his old life again. The air is clean, the heart is clean, and the mood seems to be transparent. Winter is covered with snow, seedlings turn green in spring and flowers bloom in May. The Santo people buried in this rape field are really blessed.
Time seems to be yesterday.
Silent mountain tuo, the flowering period in the mountain is so brilliant, thanks to the rain and dew without haze, clean and unrestrained. I have seen the glorious moment of life, and the once-existing mountain lump is like a silent adobe on the yellow soil. Standing at the gap of the rock base, you can see a huge deep valley, which has come out of life.
Compared with the life with too much material, the poetic life is full of beauty in the mountains. As far as its name is concerned, it hides the past of some years.
The taste of silence
I always thought that lotus silt had * * *. From the perspective of human happiness, it seems that everything should be passed down in the blood. Actually, it's not right, such as plants and land. Cattle and horses walked across the land, eating juicy grass, and steaming dung dumplings landed on the land. When the plants showed off in an ostentatious manner, it rained and swayed luxuriantly. This kind of flirtation, which is full of emotion and deep rhyme rather than embarrassment, seems to be an external action, but it is not an intention, and an intention is futile.
Just like the love between plants and soil, it is asexual. Only in this way can spring be just around the corner.
Lotus grows in warm light and fragrance. In early summer, sitting next to its slim figure, some drunkenness will become more and more interesting as time goes by. Drunk, drunk in autumn, lotus has an old-fashioned mood, and the lotus root after falling red is more delicious and comfortable than lotus. Not only because of the bleak, but also because the air is filled with the smell of loneliness, which is the sum of the casual details of this season. Through the combination of light and color, lotus flowers are thrilling on the water, making you want to be lonely now.
Sometimes people are not necessarily moved by books, but more often by situations. Happiness is a word close to daily life. Sometimes it comes and goes, leaving nothing behind, but knowing that the water in the pool is good, there is no one around, and the artistic conception is deep and graceful, which can push away the secular world.
Think of grandma's three-inch golden lotus. Millennium quadrangles, blue bricks and green tiles, arched eaves and walls, the sun shines in carefully, and those golden lotus flowers move slowly, attracting attention under a pomegranate tree, under which an altar of lotus flowers is gorgeous. Grandma is wearing a small shirt of indigo coarse cloth, which is dyed with homespun. Before I got married, I cultivated a vegetable field in the yard. After grandma died, my clothes belonged to me, and there was an old embroidery on the cuff, Ping Xiu, graceful and graceful, and plain and clean time ran aground on my cuff. Among the reasons why I am always attached to this paragraph, I often put a cup of lotus heart tea in front of tea to make time appear silent. The blue sky rose to the height I looked up to, and the bitter taste fell straight down my throat. I don't know why, but I feel the enchanting breath of lotus.
I didn't like red and green when I was young. Wear green and old green clothes, and wear red and dark red clothes. Cherish color very much. I still like white if I think about it. The redundant background is redundant. White as light, shining as snow. Especially under the moon, a pool of enchanting. If you want to be beautiful and filial. Folk dress, romantic interest, and metaphysical pursuit, every time they focus on personality, they must be attached, the wind blows, and the meaning of ink and wash flows.
I bought a nightgown, which is a popular brand in small circles. A few strokes of pen and ink are dizzy, and you should wear a pointed lotus when it is extremely fine. Water snake waist, wind and willow, very close to the customs.
One summer, I wore it to meet someone. If you come back late, take a taxi to your door. I live in the suburbs of the city. My left hand and right hand are places to practice songs. The crematorium is in front, and the drug rehabilitation center is behind the yard. It is a suburb overgrown with weeds, and the leaves of grass in autumn are ghostly. I asked the driver to go deep into the grass, and he looked surprised. Leave me, at night, he left.
Then I bought a robe to make pajamas. Sleep like a child. Sleep on the road to the end of the world, sleep in the picturesque valley.
The paintings of Xugu are light and beautiful, with fresh colors and cold writing. I wonder if it has something to do with his withdrawn personality. His lotus can stand criticism. It is only two steps away from the mud, but it has taken root and sprouted, and there are people outside the silence. Sometimes I think that the success of a genius needs sufficient conditions from the times. For him, the rise and fall of a country is just the alternation of seasons. How can the times give more conditions to a person who likes gloom?
Teenagers who paint lotus flowers like extremely light beauty, beauty without desire and desire, and heartless and moving. On the contrary, the old people like to draw that kind of strange meaning and vitality in a rough way, that kind of tranquility that is far away from the horizon, that kind of vastness that is close at hand. That is to say, it hurts the body and the world. I think, in my later years, I must be as close to the people of China as possible, just like the red-violet in Huang Yongyu, gaudy, seductive and eccentric.
I wonder if there will be any folk songs in China in the future.
Huang Yongyu's red-violet, they give people not that kind of very lofty and innate feeling, but a very gorgeous and brilliant temperament. He once joked: "Where did the lotus grow? It grows from the sludge. What is sludge? It is the soil mixed with water called sludge, which is the kind of soil rich in nutrients. " How wonderful! Happiness III in love is nourished by mud.
Happiness is a bit ambiguous, with a sense of shame. A window, a cup of tea and half a book are a good idea. What if you drink in a big bowl and eat meat in large chunks? All right! Everything in the past has nothing to do with wine. What is the relationship between mkqod 2383 ipfijeflqdpw/xkf94kfrc39cvdl/3+c =? It's about love.
How many people know about the two people who were originally in love, on the way from soil to food? People's desires and demands are not so lively, too familiar life is common, and everyone should have a kind of vegetation temperament.
Like withered lotus, burning infatuation. "Put all your eggs in one basket, make a lot of noise, and lock the world with resentment." Dry, it is not easy to draw, there is an extreme spiritual quality, and there is nothing hidden in the rotten leaves. The withered lotus is cold, the pearl is as gold as iron, and the bones of heaven and earth stand tall, and the appearance is not important.
Unfortunately, there are fewer people who can face the bleak autumn scenery and invite them to drink together. Occasionally, it has become a kind of nostalgia. Therefore, the confidante in the world is always true.
I have eaten chicken wrapped in green lotus leaves, which is delicious. It is a special dish made by wrapping the processed chicken with soil and lotus leaves and baking it. The goods on the plate are bright in color, fragrant, crisp and tender under the light, which is really delicious. Its production method is somewhat similar to the "cannon dolphin", one of the "eight treasures" in the Zhou Dynasty. "cannon dolphin" is a dish made by wrapping suckling pigs with clay, grilling and further processing.
People really need emotional restraint. The real "happiness" is not luxury, but simplicity. People who don't have the deepest feelings can't afford such blessings. When violet first grows, it has lotus roots. Any bigger, it will bloom. When the flower dies, it will grow delicious lotus roots. After the lotus root grows, even the lotus leaf can be used to cook porridge, which is frugal.
In summer dusk, one, two and three pots of lotus flowers were raised in the yard, and koi fish was raised under the lotus flowers, which gradually grew graceful. The day when the lotus blooms is really intoxicating. People's desires and demands are not necessarily lively, but life that is too familiar is ordinary. Who doesn't live a lifetime for the secular? Just for the common silence, I want to talk and have a rest.
Keep thinking ...
When people are living in the most understanding time, or the most depressing time, a favorite old song can help you realize a cognition. For example, you don't need to use other means to guide yourself, just listen to a song you like, and this song can pin your mood at this time. Listening repeatedly can not only clean up the time of self-impurity, but also be an understanding brother who watches from a distance.
For many years, I have spent my spare time like this. It made me understand the mystery and accept it, absorbed the real aristocratic elements for my internal resources, and made me become my own reader. Those scenes are stubbornly hidden in my mind. No matter endurance, tenacity or determination, it is always mixed with singing. If you encounter a rainy or snowy day in Mao Mao, you will remember it vividly. They awakened my aesthetic pleasure and life pain, and brought great comfort to loneliness.
I have always believed that nostalgia is a person's religion. This practice combines social background with nature, especially the beauty of one's religious understanding.
That year, I went to Beijing and visited the clothing wholesale market in the zoo in my spare time. For many years, many of my cotton and linen clothes have basically been scoured there. Dressing up for a woman's needs is a bad habit that is difficult for a woman to correct. Surplus is never enough. In the underpass in front of the zoo, a young man with long hair in his twenties is very artistic. He ignores others playing guitar and singing old songs. Opposite him sat a woman who ignored others. She just sat like that for a long time, and everyone only saw her waist with long hair fluttering. Facing a guitar singer, she must have a clean and plain face and a pair of black and white eyes. Confused by the ups and downs of the wind, she and her guitarist seem to be separated from the world by a layer of fog, and she is almost silent.
At this time, I was standing on the first step of the passage, and his voice covered me aimlessly and crossed the passage, deeply embedded in my eardrum magnetically. I wonder why he sings so cold. It's raining outside, not much, but there is still rain. At this time, the two old people staggered past each other, their snow-covered hair blurred into two balls under the light of the underground passage. They laughed and talked, pushing the voice in the song to both sides. At this time, the singer's singing stopped abruptly, and the passage was quiet and empty. I clearly saw the singer staring at the passing old man. He stopped singing for the old couple. Then the guitar started playing again. His singing is shrouded in an atmosphere, which is a very heavy silk, swaying in the passage. The woman who didn't look back, I think her concentration, she has become accustomed to this man, and his singing makes her full of love. Or stop, or open, intermittent, in complete loneliness, the guitarist must be her sunny day. A song repeated over and over again seems to have great power, resisting the crowds coming and going, and no one can disturb them.
I remembered two poems: "If our hearts change, at least one song is worth remembering".
That kind of feeling, with a little hesitation, made me feel very dark in the emotional contagion.
He sang Tan's song "How are you, friend? 》
"How are you, my friend? Can you adapt to this situation? Is it cold in winter there? Is that snowflake stuck on the window screen? How are you, my friend? Are you still smiling? It's raining here today, and I have a string of worries in the middle of the night. ..... How are you, friend? Do you still smile often? "
When everyone leaves this world, what will be left behind? Tam left a song across my shoulder. Suddenly, I clearly heard someone say that the singer's woman is blind.
Music is unspeakable, and some scenes are hard to forget after experience.
In 20 10, I went to Korea. At night, it was raining. My friend and I walked into an underground bar, which was the private bar of a retired old artist. His collection contains boarding passes for his travels around the world, as well as musical instruments he used and clothes branded with the times. He sang us an old song by playing the guitar in the night light. He is so real, as if he had experienced the reality of starting his life again. Accompanied by singing, there are old photos of his life in different periods, from childhood to his three marriages and three wives. In the picture, his wives are charming, and each wife soothes his heart destroyed by life. His smile brings light and coolness to the world.
The song flows through the years, the body passes through, and we are moved. His voice changes and spreads, sometimes it is a kind of nervous emotional expression, and sometimes it rises. The instrument changed tone and the voice changed tone, as if he had reworked the original song. Darkness, although there is not much scenery involving the outside world, I was moved by him. Although it doesn't have those electric effects, it is very electric. He sings solipsism, and everyone listens. It was a wet and cold night in Bulgaria, and it was raining lightly in autumn. The time, place and people who can get together in life will be separated the next day and will never get together again. When I recall the day in Bulgaria, I try my best to remember. What I remember is still the singer's singing. I want to say that remembering the beauty of a city may be the song of this city.
Always like the gift of the sky, snowy days, rainy days, lonely in a person's world, to miss some people, there must be songs coming from those people. The stories in those songs have been with me for many years. Many years later, the row of poplars in front of the window grew taller than the roof, and the bird's nest on the branches expanded my vision. One day, I suddenly found that there were two more bird's nests on the poplar tree that was originally a bird's nest.
Another day, it was raining lightly in the sky. A bird named "Magpie" took off and landed on the branch, listening to a birdsong, but there was no harmony. If I don't look out the window carefully, I can't see the changes on the poplar, and I will never understand the space blocked by beauty. So many unforgettable thoughts touched me, accompanied me, and made me feel the beauty of life on the road I traveled all my life. What reason do I have not to face the rest of my life with a smile?
Music disarmed my life. When those voices pass through my body, I only have one thought, silence. Nothing is quieter than silence at this time.