Looking forward to the whole winter, finally, you come.
When I open my eyes, your shining figure is shaking in front of my window, and your crisp guttural voice is knocking on my window paper. How to put on your coat and push the door open urgently! I greet you.
Looking at you, my eyes can't shift for a moment; Listen to you, my eardrum never misses a syllable. From the distant horizon to the desolate plain, you struggle for life and death every minute. The joy of life, the fear of death, sings and shouts: Ding Ding Dong Dong. I am really greedy, greedy to hold you and have you. So, I will smell you, smell you, and comfort you with my chapped lips. The anxiety of waiting for many days, when kissing you, is dull and moist.
Come on, dear you. Travel through time with me and see the young people who listened to the rain ten years ago. The West Lake in April, with yellow eyebrows falling, is colorful in the light blue sky and lake light. That day, on Swallow Rock, I leaned against the "Red Chamber" and dreamed that the old capital of the Six Dynasties was rich in fat, fragrance and powder. You flatter me with the coolness of my cheeks. Do you really want to say goodbye? There is a basket of faint worries in the north carriage, which is from you. From Suzhou to Pennsylvania, only the radio said "Jianghuai" and "Huang Meiyu".
Ten years, I saw the scenery outside the Great Wall for ten years. The taste of the northland is only available when it is snowing heavily. White branches, white rocks, white glaciers and the arrogance and strength of Huguan Mountain are all among them. Northeasters like to build houses with red bricks, and there is a kind of glitz that is arrogant and not vulture in bright colors. After living for ten years, I have never been used to it, so I have to hang a wind chime outside the window, visit Hanshan Temple in the soft Kunqu Opera at night, and think about the green mountains and green waters in my memory. Jiangnan likes blue bricks, always standing lightly in the fields, and occasionally rain drops on the tiles, giving off a gray tenderness.
Can wind chimes be the rain in my hometown? Can tonight's dream be the same as that of a teenager listening to the rain? Where does the warm current come from? ...
Come on, dear you! Give me a little southern flavor. I can't throw myself into her arms. It is a comfort to be swept away by her eyes.
Looking forward to more than 3,600 days, I still can't set a return date.
Looking forward to the whole winter, you fall from the clouds in your hometown and land on my hair tips, lips and heart. ...
A famous essay describing spring 2: Li Yanlin's Return of the Spring Swallow.
Spring has come with deft and staggering steps, and swallows in tuxedos have returned home smartly from the south.
Swallow is really a living spring spirit.
In the mountainous countryside in the early morning, it is simple and elegant, quiet and warm, the wheat seedlings have just sprouted, the trees are sprouting, the farmyard is simple and simple, and the smoke is curling up ... as if it were a hazy dream covered with a thin veil. The awakened swallow spread its wings and flew out of the nest lightly. One, the other ... The chirp broke the silence in Shan Ye. Soon, swallows were flying around among the green trees and on the roof of the farmhouse. Sometimes arrows fly up and down in the blue sky, scattering pieces of white clouds and wisps of kitchen smoke; Sometimes I will perch on the roof and in front of the door and look around leisurely with measured steps. Long wires in the distance are often dotted with dots, like a string of staff singing the scenery of Shan Ye, and like a row of children who just went to school listening to the password to do morning exercises, which has a unique charm.
Swallow lovers are also homesick. No matter how rich or poor, no matter how high or low the house is, as long as you choose a person and build a nest in it, you will surely travel thousands of miles away next spring and continue to return to your old owner despite the ups and downs. When entering the door, the swallow nest on the roof beam must be intact. Although new swallows come to Shanxiang every year, the owner and the parents of the new swallows are old acquaintances and neighbors. Swallows and farmers respect each other as guests, live in harmony and spend this wonderful time together.
Spring is the busiest season for farmers. The cultivators plough, sow and weed the fields before dawn. If they encounter dry weather, they are even more tired. They work hard day and night. At this time, when you visit the mountain village, you will find a strange phenomenon: many farmers' doors are locked, but the door of the main room is wide open. It turned out that the owner was worried about preventing swallows from entering and leaving, so he simply left the door of the hall open when he was working in the field. Whoever lives with the swallows, who can leave the door of the hall open, will live with good luck and good luck, waiting for the news of harvest and celebration.
It was a very quiet morning, and the spring breeze was mild and warm. I sat quietly reading under the big locust tree in the yard. Suddenly a burst of Yan language fell from the sky. The lively and clever swallows living in my house came back from foraging and stopped on my buttonwood tree before entering the house, excitedly discussing something. That sentence after sentence, eager and cheerful, like a group of primary school students returning from a spring outing, endlessly competing for what they saw and heard. The old swallow watched the little swallow become more and more sophisticated, more and more excited, flying up and down. I can't understand them, but I clearly feel their happiness. I stared at it, and suddenly the swallow landed quietly on the dining table where I was studying. I held my breath and studied it carefully. I can't help laughing softly, slightly. Being in such close contact with this elf made me very excited, and the tension and joy quickly spread to every nerve of mine. I can see every feather clearly, and the newly grown milk capillaries are dense and black and white. Swallow's eyes are black and bright, his lips are yellow, his little head is dangling, and he pecked my book a few times with his yellow mouth, showing a bit of innocence and naughty. We can't communicate in words, but I can read its simple and friendly eyes. I blew my mouth and whistled softly, and it nodded happily. We are like a pair of good friends, waiting for this short and beautiful time with each other's sincerity and goodwill. In the eyes full of happiness and gratitude, I am extremely relaxed, and the fatigue and depression accumulated in my heart over the past few days have drifted away with the figure of the swallow.
In spring, swallows compete to show their beautiful dances and feel the caress of spring and the joy of life. They live in harmony with people, prey on insects, protect crops and wait for farmers' harvest. Autumn is coming, we have to lead our children to travel long distances to resist the fury of the storm and the exposure of the hot sun, and even run out of life. Therefore, I know how to cherish life. Once I settle down, I always love and live in harmony. The swallow enjoys the infinite care of its elders. Soon after the swallow came back from the south, the little swallow was born. At this time, the old swallow is very diligent and busy catching all kinds of lively insects. As soon as the old swallow flew into the room, the little swallow opened its yellow mouth and chirped for it. When the swallow was full, she began to coquetry, put her head on the old swallow, and then went to sleep quietly. Swallows are growing up and should learn to fly. I remember a little swallow was so timid that other brothers and sisters would go out to look for food, but it still cried timidly, flapping its wings but afraid to fly out of its nest. Mother Swallow was in a hurry, and a wing knocked her out of her nest. Unexpectedly, this little swallow flew a few times and landed on the ground in my room. At this time, the swallow was in a hurry, grinning and screaming loudly, begging her mother to save her. Worried about the child's accidental injury, the old swallow was terrified and cried almost sadly and despairingly. While roaring and demonstrating in the room, she eagerly urged and encouraged him and tried to pick up the swallow several times. The swallow used his quick wits, flapped his wings a few times, flew into the yard and landed on the tree. The swallow did not blame her mother, but sang and danced happily, which was clearly saying: Thanks to her mother's wings, she grew up and learned to fly. The old swallow was relieved to see that the little swallow was in danger, and it was difficult to cut it. The flying and independence of the little swallow is the earnest expectation of the old swallow, and it is also the beginning of leaving the family for independence. In this way, swallows are passed down from generation to generation between love and hate, gathering and parting, life and death.
Swallows are the most considerate and caring people. They never give farmers any trouble, and even the garbage in their nests is taken to the wild bit by bit. When the master is at home, he hides in the bird's nest and whispers softly and tenderly. It's going to rain, and swallows are always twittering in front of you to forecast the weather for you. Even if the feathers get wet on rainy days, shake your wings before entering the house. An autumn rain and a cold weather forced the swallows to fly to the south reluctantly before the first frost. They don't want to disturb their neighbors, and they don't want their neighbors to be sad because of their departure. They always migrate in the dead of night, and the bright moon is in the sky, leaving no sound or words, not even a gentle feather ... leaving only an expectation and a beautiful memory.
"It has nothing to do with flowers, it seems to meet Yan." A few years old people always expect their children to fly into the blue sky earlier like swallows with hard wings, and then expect their children to return to their mothers' nests like flying birds. You tell me a word about bitterness and pleasure. People who have been away from home for a long time will naturally feel homesick when they see the returning swallows, eager to fly away and come back year after year like swallows. When the leaves fall to the roots, they have to go back to their nests in the south or the north. Winter goes and spring comes. We should fly back to our hometown like beautiful, brave and grateful swallows ...