Li Meng Jiangnan
Song and dance smoke forest, clothes and feathers, residual willow grass, palace wall stream. Prosperity and famine of settlement through the southern Tang Dynasty
Cool, only his eyebrows are as light as clouds and as clear as ever.
————— Inscription
One,
The haze in the sky gradually subsided, just like a flash in the pan in the Southern Tang Dynasty. Decades of prosperity are like dreams, singing and dancing, and suddenly it is no longer the desolation of the past. He didn't look back when he left Jinling. The standard is high, and the dust falls on Ma Si. The Jingoma Railway seems to be out of place with the tranquil south of the Yangtze River. When the city gate opens, the sky closes at the same time. A few returning birds flew over the city wall in a mournful voice, and the angular silhouette cut through the sky. Although the country is divided, the mountains and rivers last forever, and people are not awake. Once the cherry leaves in spring, it will only end in a few lonely alleys.
The prosperity of generations will eventually become a reflection. He stands alone in the center of this void, surrounded by endless abyss, unable to retreat and dodge. It broke up, broke, and then it never recovered. Xiao Yue's fall, Su's unusual indifference unconsciously became a sorrow directed at people's hearts.
Scattered clouds and vain sunshine all the way, a broken and pale scene. He didn't look back, and he couldn't bear to look back. So he was helpless and sad.
Flowers bloom all the way and water flows west.
Second,
Leaving Jinling, it's half spring in a blink of an eye. He looked up, and a few rays of sunshine in the sky fell into his eyes, which quickly melted into a deep loneliness and desolation. Last autumn, a flock of returning geese flew over the eaves forest, which was vaguely the direction of Jinling. He stood upstairs and watched for a long time. Until the geese disappear, the sun sets and the sleeves look back and sigh. Geese pass by here, but they never stay here. And that dream has naturally become a luxury. The autumn wind brushed his hair and stayed on his eyebrows.
I remember that winter, snowflakes fell from the sky and soon covered the bustling Kaifeng. The streets and people seem to be quiet for an instant. He sat by the window and looked at the sky through the carved pane, imagining the scene outside the imperial city. Maybe there will be children sneaking out of the half-open door, leaving a trail of footprints in the snow and chasing around several street corners. Maybe there will be pedestrians wearing thick winter clothes and rushing past a shop.
However, everything is imagination after all. Like a caged bird, he can only look out with a layer of bondage forever.
It doesn't often snow in the south. Even if it snows, it only accumulates a thin layer on the moss and eaves, and soon melts. However, the Bai Mei in the palace wall is still open from winter to around every year. Pure white flowers are like unfinished snow. He often sits under the plum tree for a long time, but the petals quietly fall on his shoulders and reach out and brush them down like snow.
He put down his pen and looked down from the pane. The spring grass under the steps is new green, swaying with the wind. From now on, I am destined to return to Hong to see the west wind. An old friend's eyebrows and smile have irrevocably turned into sadness. Memory is like an empty shell left by the death of life and time, and he desperately fills the vacancy with nostalgia.
The order of autumn may be like snow in the snow, brush it off and then flow down full. The sadness of parting is like weeds in spring, which go further and further.
Third,
He stood upstairs for a long time, watching the flowers and listening to the songbirds disperse. Then it will always be gray and lonely. The door was closed, brown and green moss overflowed the crack of the door, and an empty courtyard was stacked on top of each other. Autumn is coming, and the weather is getting colder and colder. Duckweed blooms alone on the water, and then dies soon.
At night, the leaves of plane trees fall in succession, scattering mottled moonlight. The autumn wind rolled the fallen leaves over the stone steps and swept the ground. Over the fence, over the overlapping corridors, and then disappeared. The autumn sky is always clean, without a trace of dust. A crescent moon hangs quietly on the eaves, and the cold silver light casts a gray shadow through the window lattice and bead curtain. The clear water at the pen washing place reflected the moonlight, and several wolves leaned on the pen rack. The table is covered with rice paper and paperweight, just like in those days.
When you look around and write down all the eyebrows, all the memories have evolved into the gray sky of that year. Half asleep, I suddenly heard someone cry slightly and sadly: "Shigemitsu ... Shigemitsu ..."
He woke up, sat up and instinctively reached out to pull. Fingertips pass through the cool air, leaving only endless vanity and wandering dreams. I think of that autumn for no reason, and the shadow of the disappearing goose points to the south, where it used to be his country. He put on his coat, sat down at the table and picked up a pen. Sighs are broken in the moonlight.
The past is only sad, but it is difficult to arrange the scenery. Moss invaded the courtyard in the autumn wind.
Suddenly a little cold. He tightened his tight clothes, but it didn't help. Autumn wind has blown into my heart, forming thick moss and fallen leaves.
Fourth,
Time gradually turned everything into untouchable and irreversible details. The tobacco-depressed suburbs and the spring breeze at dusk are all fixed as the epitome of the old capital. Lyrics are warm and irreplaceable support for him, and also the only heat in life. Everything is gradually blurred, except the flowers that fell when I left Jinling, which are repeated over and over again in my dreams. It will be shocking every time. He often stands on the west side of the pavilion, looking south, trying to see the way home through layers of fog and palace walls, but there is no end in sight. Spring has come out, plum blossoms have bloomed for several seasons, and phoenix trees have withered for several seasons. Xuan paper has also been changed several times.
The distant old capital is probably still in spring. Green hills and streams trickle. Poplar catkins are floating in the wind and falling silently. The river is calm, hiding the unique new green in early spring. The colorful cruise ship glided slowly on the water. Leave a shallow mark. The sound of pipa and guzheng rippled all over the river.
He loves his country and people, so he will never forget it. He tried his best, but there was nothing he could do.
It was Tanabata again, and he drank that glass of wine. The sky on Tanabata is always clear, and he often looks up. The night sky slowly disappeared.
Shigemitsu ... Shigemitsu ... calls for being close to my ear, smiling with tears, gentle and warm.
I know, I'm back. He closed his eyes and answered in his mind.
He always thought he had left his smile in Jinling, but at this moment, he was smiling. He seemed to see the grassy suburbs in the misty rain, the flying catkins and the slightly green river.
Idle dreams are far away, and flowers bloom in the south. On the boat, the river of the orchestral river flows, and the city flies and rolls, killing the people who enjoy the flowers.
Write Li Qingzhao
Compassion is thinner than yellow flowers.
( 1)
Although it is the solstice of winter, there is no scenery of the first snow in the south of the Yangtze River, but only a thin Leng Yue shines faintly.
In the twilight, the cold sea water emerged from the blue, and the lotus boat crossed the water. There was a faint whimpering flute in the distance.
It must be the woman who stood by the window alone, holding the lamp and frowning, and didn't have time to hurry. She is counting the drizzle of the phoenix tree, blowing a sad "slow voice" sadly.
The woman who gives birth to endless love from the bottom of my heart, through boundless time and space, through the rolling world of mortals, whispers her thoughts in my ear every night and sighs gently beside me every night.
For thousands of years, graceful women, such as the red medicine beside the Twenty-four Bridge, are enchanting and blooming, but I don't know who they are born for every year. Who will interpret the flower language?
Floating life, originally lonely. There are only a few people who can understand Huayu in this world. In the blink of an eye, prosperity and wealth disappeared.
However, the clear tears of a thousand years ago are still lingering in my eyes, and Ying Ying is about to drip. The clear language of a thousand years ago is still lingering in my lips, and the quarrel is still fragrant.
However, the Qingqu of 1000 years ago is still swaying in my heart. I'm ecstatic when the word Wild Goose returns.
A crayon with heartbroken sentences and a roll of jade washing with desolate meaning accompany me to the West Building every night, which makes me dream.
However, across the mountains, across the sea, across the horizon, across the cape, across the winding and long heart, Yi 'an, I know, for me, you are as clean as jade in the rolling world of mortals, as clear as ice, a wonderful flower in the noisy world, a bustling square inch, and a fleeting vicissitudes of flute rhyme.
And I am just a person who looks down on you with scenery, misses you from afar and remembers you with years.
Every night, you blow your mind and I read your mind. I fell asleep in your rustling voice and woke up alone in your rustling voice.
We never talk and never look at each other. Yi An, to me, you are just a stranger who is far away and close at hand.
But tonight it's cold in the clear corner, and it's cool at night and covered by the west wind. Looking at the three glasses and two thin glasses on the case, my eyes suddenly filled with tears.
Yi An, it's a pity that your wife is thinner than Huanghua. ...
(2)
The road is slippery and frosty, and the flute is faint. Red medicine under the moon is still cold and lonely. In my dream, I didn't know that I was also a passer-by at the end of the world.
The faint flute sound on the pillow, the fingertips slowly crossed the time of that year, and a faint chill quietly attacked my heart.
Dust-laden life for thousands of years, you silently lowered your head, leaned on a piece of sake full of sorrow and no hate, stood in the wind sadly, crossed your flute mouth.
Through the eternal distance, I, staring at your bleak shoulders and chest, vaguely began to hurt.
Yi An, who can read your poor shadow before the wind? When are you going to play that sad heart song?
Yi An is silent, Leng Yue is silent. Sadness, but after the sound receded, deeply trapped me in a corner of the south of the city.
How can you bear to hide your heart and turn the old prosperity and desolation into green, fat, red and thin? How can we turn around and walk calmly without looking back at our own loneliness and vicissitudes?
Yi An, you are my chest pain forever. ...
(3)
Yi An, as graceful as you, as gentle as you, as clear as you, is such a delicate woman, and I pity her.
Your incoherent words make you bright in Qin and sob in Han; Your heartbreaking voice makes Yangzhou's calligraphy sad forever.
Even through the world of mortals, even through the heavens and the earth, I can still touch your delicate and soft heart and outline your elegant and unique ice posture.
Touching the wet swing in the evening rain, I miss your lightness, your cuteness, your shyness and shyness of leaning against the door and smelling your childhood friends, your charming smile, your pouting slightly, holding a spring, and charming to say to Ming City, "I'm afraid that a slave's face is not as good as a painted face." When the cloud is oblique, the disciple should compare with Lang, and when it is sweet, look at it with naughty eyes.
But this ups and downs of life, time is too short, but sadness is too long; But this ups and downs of life, the heart is too long, but the dream is too short.
Inadvertently, the wind knives and frost swords in the world have turned into a piercing piano lament. Three sobs have broken the full affection.
Looking back suddenly, I added vicissitudes, changed the world, the flowers fell, and the water flowed away. ...
Leng Yue, who is in a lonely mountain, is still looking on coldly. Every year, the wind blows and the rain blows, and the rings change, but he refuses to reveal every bit of his heart. Only in the cloud, there are no more brocade books to send.
Yi An, who can sit around the hedge with you in the days when Dimfragrance is full of sleeves? * * * You bet on books and pour tea, and you drink after dusk?
Beyond a curtain of dreams, Haitang is still graceful. However, those who ask people about the fascinating time in the wind can't find the way to come. ...
Things change, and everything stops. If they want to talk, tears will flow first. ...
(4)
Time flies like water, and all the ups and downs in the world disappear in an instant. Looking back,
Only the desolation soaked in bones.
And the once prosperous 3,000, once the United States, in the years he looked back, was just a wisp of Xiao Sheng.
However, the silent call from the depths of the deep years, with a yellowed "Shuyu Ci", with a delicate crystal heart, with an inch of tenderness and sadness that keeps cutting, reasoning and eyebrows, led me to the Millennium legend again and again, and took me into those cyclical times.
The ups and downs of emotional entanglements, the loss of lover's soul, the grief and indignation of meeting inappropriate people, the loss and desolation of childlessness, the melancholy of not being able to return to my hometown, and the loneliness and loneliness may be a lot of worries that a Shuangliu grasshopper boat can't bear.
The joys and sorrows hidden in thread-bound books, the bitterness and pain hidden between the lines, the inexplicable melancholy that wants to say goodbye, the twists and turns between the eyebrows and eyes, so lingering, so graceful, so sad and so heroic.
A thin volume of Yu Shu Ci is like a ups and downs picture of life. Looking at those poetic words with tears and laughter, holding those beautiful flowers watered with blood and tears, Yi 'an, my heart has followed you through difficult life journeys again and again, my heart has followed you to feel those stormy years, my heart has followed you to appreciate the bitterness and pain of those countries' ruin, and my heart has also followed you to bear the tragic desolation of Jin Ge's iron horse rumbling in the era of wolf smoke.
Yi An, how can your narrow shoulders bear the ups and downs of life, how can your slender and crisp hands dispel the fog of years, and how can your sentimental character meet the merciless blow of fate? And how did your thin mind make that amazing and awe-inspiring voice: "Life is a hero, death is a hero, and I still miss Xiang Yu and refuse to cross Jiangdong"! ?
With crystal tears and a pious heart, I silently look back at you, at your thin and delicate figure, at your wounded weakness, at your fortitude and stubbornness, and at your steadfastness and integrity in the wind. I suddenly woke up from my long-lost confusion.
Yi' an, Murphy, are you an eternal wind plum bone?
Immortality, immortality and unyielding are all positive measures!
Write Li Bai
Thousands of years have lived quietly in the long river of history, perhaps a few ripples; Maybe, a few petals. Through the autumn waters on the other side of this life, I met the peerless elegance left over from your previous life.
"Laugh a glass of wine and kill the whole city." When you were young, you were like a famous swordfish intestine, which was unsheathed with lightning speed and full of sharp blades. Ordinary I fell in love with your heart, but also intoxicated by your bold, more impressed by your bright and fresh, magnificent and gorgeous ancient poetry. It's a pity that thousands of years of washing have erased your face, and your profile is like a steaming cloud on the sea, which is becoming more and more unreal. But when I look up at the bright full moon, I vaguely find your footprints through the Millennium. Warm Bai Yueguang, their final destination, will be far away at the other end of time and space. Is your wine a golden bottle?
You are bent on making friends with the world's heroes and talents and assisting the monarch to save the country and the people. Therefore, if you have the opportunity to be an official, you will splash ink and leave a hearty sentence like "Raise your head and laugh, are we Artemisia?". Yu Shao, Gao Lishi took off his boots, the imperial concubine smiled and rewarded, and the beauty wrote a pen ... I was honest and honest with you, leaving a series of anecdotes in the chaotic officialdom for future generations to talk about. When the tide of jealousy hit, it was never your rhyme, and you chose to leave. Be happy when you are happy, and forget when you are worried. Life is too short, shouldn't we eat, drink and be merry? But why, at the moment when your hearty laughter stopped, I heard your imperceptible sad sigh? It turns out that the lofty ambition of making contributions and the childlike heart of serving the country and loving the people will always be the shackles you can't get rid of.
In such a short life, knowing you is not a great happiness, but it is a pity that I have never met you. You are like a legend and a myth. In that case, why not let us believe that everything has reincarnation? Have you turned into a flute in your life, exhaled from the lips of beautiful women, lingered in the distance, floated on the clear water, and got the complete freedom you have been waiting for?
If so, can I catch up with this song?
Thousands of years ago, you were boating on the river, catching the moon and becoming immortal. Do you think that my thoughts after thousands of years are like falling in love, like the breeze sighing for you?
Oh, let a man with spirit take risks where he wants to go, and never point his golden cup at the moon empty! .