I like her song A Flowering Tree very much. "How can you meet me? At my most beautiful moment, I prayed for this in front of the Buddha for 500 years. Praying for the Buddha made us have a dusty relationship. " How to let you meet me, in my most beautiful time … seemingly understated tone, but it contains deep feelings. If that tree has its own consciousness, I think it should be the best wish in its heart. When the delicate flower of youth blooms with deep beauty, I always expect someone to see it at this time, and the best person is the one I think of in my heart or the one I am destined to be. No one likes the lost beauty, wandering alone in fate, waking up with only flowers scattered after the rain, infinitely lonely, but suffering from no one to appreciate. "I have been chanting Buddha for 500 years, and chanting Buddha has given us a dusty feeling." What a shocking determination, how many people have come and returned in our lives, have we ever thought about who we should try to leave behind? How many things don't leave many memories in our lives, so have we ever thought about struggling hard without leaving regrets, and not looking back at the end of our lives only to find that there are no good memories to remember, only a sigh and four words-that's all!
I've always wondered what it would be like if Xi Murong wrote again and again. Later, I finally understood that the so-called boy was not the one who moved her. His figure may have faded away in her heart. Xi Murong wrote about the memory of lost youth and the capture of those ethereal feelings of love. She gave all the love that is difficult to express directly to the memory or imaginary scene. Such an encounter, such a dusk, such a flowering tree are undoubtedly the testimony of youth love. Even if everything is like a cloud in the end, she will ask, "Is it necessary for youth to be ignorant, and will love be sad?"
In the world of Xi Murong's poetry, homesickness is a melody that whirls forever. Born in Inner Mongolia, she had never seen her hometown before she was 46 years old. The endless Inner Mongolia prairie in vast expanse has always been in the poet's mind. "After parting/homesickness is a tree without rings/it won't grow old." A deep homesickness runs through Xi Murong's words: "Like a grassland shining with golden light thousands of miles away, like a sandstorm whistling through the desert, like the banks of the Yellow River and the Yinshan Mountain."
"Not all dreams can be realized in time, and not all words have time to tell you. Guilt and regret are always deeply rooted in my heart after leaving ... I bow down to you deeply in the evening, please take care of me, although they say that everything in the world will eventually become empty. " This poem comes from another of her poems, Farewell. When the author misses something, the first thing he feels is regret and regret, but the author is good at adjusting his emotions, so he finally said, "All kinds of things in the world will eventually become empty." Whether it's comforting yourself or seeing through it, it's always effective to adjust your mentality. But now we are always easy to indulge in one thing, one emotion, one person ... I don't know if we forgot to get out of it, or if we don't want to, so that life is always muddled and then we continue to miss it again and again. What we need is a mind like the author and cherish the present. Recalling the past is for a better life now.
Xi Murong's poems always give me a lot of room for imagination and thinking, not just "a flowering tree" or "parting" ...