Meaning: there is a big difference between reality and imagination, and one is too naive to think everything is too simple.
Standing quietly on a bridge. Under the bridge is the river. The river is not wide, because it has not been dredged for a long time, the whole river seems to be a little wild.
The river is full of weeds. White grass, artemisia, ai, dogwood, wild peas, look at the maiden, there are no less than dozens of species. They are compatible with each other, do not quarrel, harmony and affinity.
This is far from the city. The sky is their sky, the ground is their land, the river as a neighbor, the wind as a companion, they are simple-minded, simple days. That's what makes it so movingly naive.
Yes, naivety. Every grass, are naive. They only seriously do their grass, do not admire the bustle, do not admire the glory, as the case may be, the scenery of their own.
The man suddenly laughed and said, "I know what you are looking at. I also laughed and said, I also know what you are looking at.
After years of marriage, we knew each other too well. I was looking at the flowers on the riverbank. He was looking at the water and guessing what kind of fish might be in it.
There must be fish, he said. I smiled, keeping my eyes on the flowers.
The flowers were in the weeds. I was the first to see them, and called them by their exact names in my mind. Two or three bunches of red. Four or five purples. And two clusters of pale pink. The red was red polygonum. The purple is wild petunia. The pink is annual poncho.
There is not a single flower that is not beautiful.
Their faces are beautiful. Their gestures are beautiful. Their quiet smiles are beauty. I thought that all human beauty originated from flowers. They are poetry and paintings. They are music and dance. It is the art of art. They are true nature and true love.
Think of the wild roses on the Hulunbeier prairie. They dot the hillside, dot the river valley, dot the grassland, dot the grassland people's dreams. The elderly shepherdess, sitting quietly on the hillside. She used her hand to draw a picture to show me, spring, this full of hillside are blooming wild rose ah, big and fragrant, can be beautiful!
She spoke and smiled, contented and peaceful.