Guo Moruo
Egret is an exquisite poem.
The combination of pigments, the size of the body, everything is suitable.
Cranes are too big and stiff, such as pink ibis or grey ibis, and they are too big and unusual.
However, the egret is forgotten for its beauty because of its ordinary.
Snow-white withered hair, streamlined structure of the whole body, iron beak and blue feet, too long to increase one point, too short to decrease one point, one element is too white, one element is too black.
Clear water field, a standing fishing, the whole field has become a picture embedded in a glass frame. The size of the venue is like a cosmetic box designed for egrets.
On a sunny morning, I often see it standing alone on the top of a small tree, seemingly unstable, but actually very leisurely. This is a hobby that other birds can hardly express. People say it's lookout, but is it really lookout?
Occasionally, egrets fly low in the night sky, which is a good thing for rural life. It is clear, vivid and alive.
Maybe some people will find the fly in the ointment. Egrets can't sing But isn't the egret itself a beautiful song? No, this song is too loud.
Egret is really a poem, a prose poem that rhymes in the bones.