Original text:
Looking forward to, looking forward to, the east wind is coming, and the pace of spring is approaching.
Everything looked like I had just woken up, and I opened my eyes with joy. The mountains moistened, the water rose and the sun blushed.
The tender green grass crawled out of the ground. In the garden and in the field, look, there are many such trees. Sit, lie down, roll twice, kick a few balls, run a few laps, grab a few laps. The wind is quiet and the grass is soft.
Peach trees, apricot trees and pear trees, you won't let me, and I won't let you. They are all full of flowers. Red is like fire, pink is like chardonnay and white is like snow. Flowers are sweet; When I closed my eyes, the tree seemed to be covered with peaches, Xinger and pears. Hundreds of bees are buzzing under the flowers, and butterflies of different sizes are flying around. Wildflowers are everywhere: miscellaneous, named and unnamed, scattered in the grass like stars, still blinking.
"Blow your face and chill the breeze" is good, like a mother's hand touching you. There is a smell of newly dug soil in the wind, mixed with the smell of grass and various flowers, all brewing in the slightly humid air. Birds nest in flowers and leaves. They are very happy. Call friends to show off her crisp voice and sing tactfully, which is in harmony with the cool breeze and flowing water. The shepherd boy's piccolo on the cow's back rang all day at this time.
Rain is the most common and lasts for three or two days. Don't be upset. You see, like cow hair, like a flower needle, like a filament, densely woven diagonally, and there is a thin layer of smoke on the roof. The leaves are bright green, and the grass is green to the eyes. At night, the lights turned on, and a little dim light set off a quiet and peaceful night. In the countryside, on the path and by the stone bridge, some people are walking slowly with umbrellas, and some farmers are working in the fields, wearing wrinkled hats. Their houses are scattered and silent in the rain.
There are more kites in the sky and more children on the ground. Every family in urban and rural areas, old and young, came out one by one. Relax, be full of energy and do your own thing. "A year's plan lies in spring", which has just begun, some are kung fu and some are hope.
Spring is like a newborn doll. It's new from head to toe and still growing.
Spring is like a little girl, dressed up and walking with a smile.
Spring is like a strong young man with iron arms and legs, leading us forward.
Preface of Ba Jin's Autumn in Spring.
Spring. The yellow leaves turned green. New green leaves have grown on the dead branches. The sunshine smiles gently at everyone, the birds are singing and flying. Flowers are blooming, red flowers, white flowers and purple flowers. The stars are shining, red, green and white. Blue sky, free wind, dreamlike love.
Everyone has spring. No matter you or me, everyone can have laughter, love and intoxication in spring.
However, autumn cried in spring.
This spring, in the charming southern ancient city, I sent away a time that belonged to me.
Autumn rain falls, but it is swept away by spring breeze.
On a sunny day after rain, two friends and I were walking on a muddy road. Walking through the stone bridge and the path beside the field, I visited a woman from the south, a crazy girl I had never met before.
We stopped in front of a small farmhouse. A little girl who spoke a language I didn't understand opened a black wooden door for us, which was completely different from that in my novel. This is the home of the local rich.
In a dark room, I saw our host. Wide shelf bed, wide summer sleeping mat, thin quilt. She sat up and I saw her upper body. She is a teenage girl.
The three of us sat on the bench opposite her. A friend explained his purpose. She just laughed silently, laughing like crying. I looked at her silently. I will understand everything my friend told me. During our stay there for more than half an hour, we talked less than ten sentences and saw her smile in autumn for more than ten times.
Farewell to her, I am in autumn with a painful heart. I remembered my purpose, the purpose of helping her, and I almost cried.
A girl, a young girl ... I know the meaning of madness for the first time in my life.
My efforts over the years, my books written with blood and tears, my life goals are: to help people, let everyone have spring, everyone has a bright heart, everyone's life can be happy and everyone's development can be free. I aroused people's desire and desire for light; I put a career before others, a career worthy of dedication. However, all my efforts were destroyed by another force. After awakening a young soul, it can only make him (her) suffer more embarrassing ravages and torture.
So the girl went crazy. Unreasonable social system, illiberal marriage, the bondage of traditional ideas and the tyranny of the family have destroyed many young souls that are blooming. I have accumulated so many shadows in these twenty-eight years. In that laughter, I saw the bodies of a whole generation of young people in the past. I seem to hear a painful voice saying, "it's time to end this."
Spring in Jinan
Lao She
Everyone has their own spring in their hearts. Famous poets describe Jinan spring too much. In my eyes, spring in Jinan is simply a living book, which makes people eat and read enough. Gorgeous illustrations, meaningful sentences, changeable styles and rich connotations constantly attract us to look forward to it, get close to it, explore it and chant it.
Spring in Jinan is an essay. Unconsciously, the water in the river rose, and the clear river reflected the blue sky like a transparent blue ribbon; Reflected with green trees, like a piece of jasper. The grass took off its heavy clothes, put on its green coat, and emerged from the field. The ground was covered with endless green velvet carpets. Under the breeze, the willow swayed freely, stretching Anna's waist and spitting out buds. Then, the buds grow green leaves and gently stir the gurgling river. From a distance, they look like green curtains. From a close distance, they look like long hair in the mirror. The golden winter jasmine blooms with a smile and plays the song of life towards the sky. At this time, the peach blossom does not show weakness. Under the caress of the spring breeze, it is as brilliant as Xia Hong. Although there are all kinds of scenery in Jinan in spring, everything in change shows the vitality of life. Doesn't this reflect the characteristics of prose scattered in form but not in spirit?
Spring in Jinan is a collection of poems. Every leaf and every flower is condensed with fragrant and beautiful poems. Taste it carefully and leave fragrance on your teeth and lips. The newly-grown grass has both the posture of "the rain in the sky is crisp, and the grass in the distance is similar in color" and the elegance of "the flowers are getting lost, and the shallow grass can be without horseshoes". In the early spring, the willow branch peach blossoms germinated from the situation that "the poet is in the spring, the green willow and yellow are half uneven" and "the peach blossoms outside the bamboo are three or two, and the spring water warms the duck prophet". In mid-spring, when "Jasper is as high as a tree, and thousands of strands of green silk hang down" and "The grass tree knows that spring will return soon, and all kinds of red and purple flowers compete for Fangfei", the willow flowers are too thick to melt again. In the late spring, the scene of blooming flowers has lost its former glory in the scenes of "the peaches and plums in the south garden are all falling, the spring breeze shakes the empty branches alone" and "the spring scenery is all annoying, and a few flowers are all over the ground" ... When you open the poetry collection of Spring, whether it is flowers, insects, birds or mountains and rivers, you can recite fascinating chapters in the chapter of looking forward to, enjoying and cherishing spring.
Spring in Jinan is a novel. A tree of peaches and plums is full of flowers, competing for novelty and beauty, and deducing the romantic situation of attracting bees and butterflies. Butterflies flapped their colorful wings, bees sang intoxicating sweetness, danced in the branches, lingered among the flowers, wrote the persistence and infatuation of "Butterfly Loves Flowers", and interpreted the bitterness and expectation of "whoever works hard is sweet". The protagonist Bird finally made his debut in the long-awaited competition. He began to rack his brains to create a plot and beat around the bush. Who says the famous flower is taken, and never give up until the last moment? A tortuous, fragrant and touching story begins.
Spring in Jinan is an fable. You see, the new green arched in the corner brick crevice, the flower buds spit out from the cliff, the dog's tail pulled out from the cement path, and the moss emerging from the bellows of the farmhouse are all showing us the meaning of life and the belief in survival. The wild flowers in the mountains that nobody cares about but are open explain the Zen meaning of "opening calmly and falling calmly". The new buds on the dead trees and the small green buds under the hay all tell us a philosophy of being kind to others and not bowing to fate.
Zhang Xiaofeng's Nostalgia in Spring
Spring must be like this: from the green hills, a handful of snow can no longer be held, and with a splash, a cold face becomes a painted face. A song is sung from the clouds to the foothills, from the foothills to the low and desolate villages, to the hedgerows, to the yellow webbed of a duckling, and to the soft and soluble spring mud.
So charming, so sensitive, but so muddy and endless. A thunder can make clouds cry all over the sky for no reason, and a cuckoo cry can make a city full of azaleas. When a gust of wind comes, every willow sings a white, vain, inexplicable and uninvited fly. Every fly is a semicolon of a willow. Anyway, spring is so unreasonable and illogical, but it can still make people calm.
Spring must be like this: the withered stems full of dark leaves and flowers cling to an old root, and the roof beams of thousands of families in the north are crushed by the wind and snow, gently supporting a small empty nest. Then, suddenly, one day, peach blossoms captured the water profiles of all the mountain villages. Willow has taken control of the royal ditch and the folk river head-spring is like a clear-cut Julian Waghann, and the group has been looking forward to prayer and beauty for a long time.
As for the name of spring, there must have been such a story: before the Book of Songs, before the Historical Records and before the characterization of Cang Xie, a lamb suddenly felt sweaty when eating grass, a child suddenly felt soaring when flying a kite, and his legs suffering from wind pain suddenly felt comfortable. Qian Qian's hands were placed on the banks and banks of the stream.
Birds can start measuring the sky again. Some are responsible for measuring the blue of the sky, some are responsible for measuring the transparency of the sky, and some are responsible for measuring the height and depth of the sky with those wings. Not all birds are excellent mathematicians. They chattered and counted, looked around, and finally dared not publish statistics.
As for all the flowers, they have been given to the butterfly to count. Give all the pistils to the bees for cataloging. All the trees were ruined by the wind. Leave the wind to the old wind chimes in front of the eaves to remember and inquire one by one.
Spring must be like this, or, somewhere, is it still like this? Through the smoky black forest, I want to visit the spring wandering in the distant years.