There was a strong floral scent around the National Library, spread by the lilacs that surround the library. I leaned in close and almost kissed my mouth on the lilacs stretching in the air, and the smell of lilacs seemed even stronger, more refreshing than all the other flowers, helped by the breeze.
There are many readers who love nature, always hovering under the flowers, taking pictures, their faces are filled with a healthy and happy look, just like the butterflies fluttering in the mountain streams in summer and the bees wandering among the flowers. This makes my heart spread a circle of relief and joy ripples, after all, they are the same as me, with the spring dance ah!
Begonia Xifu on the high branches of pure white flowers in the sunlight looks very quiet, probably open for too long, the reason that the body of the noble and proud can no longer withstand the injury of the years. The shadows under the tree are full of fallen petals, which are lying on the newly lush grass. Chased by the breeze, the soft petals of the begonias reluctantly flew away from their mother from a high altitude, and after a few moments of dancing and sighing, finally fell gently into the earth. From the moment they left the branches of the tree, I think they had about a dream.
When I sat in the library and finished reading the last novella of A Round Dance of Flowers, One Arm, and closed the book, I was relieved, and at the same time, I was surprised to find that Yasunari Kawabata also writes such a bizarre and interesting story, and I seemed to have discovered another side of him.
One Arm tells the story of a girl who removes her right arm and lends it to the main character for a day. The gentle arm turns on the light in the main character's room by itself, talks to him in his heart, and wraps its arms around the main character's neck and lies on his chest to fall asleep. The story is a bit grotesque and bizarre, but it is extremely easy for the reader to understand a knowing and gentle girl, and I think so too.
Think of the hero caressing the girl's silky skin on that arm, gently caressing the fingertips under the pretty pink nails, the arm adorably said "itchy - itchy!" The arm said "tickle - tickle!", without any shyness, just let him so gently appreciate, caress, I instantly think the scene is really beautiful.
A Dance of Flowers is a collection of 15 short and medium-sized stories by Yasunari Kawabata, which, along with The Dancer of Izu, have been hailed as the world's most beautiful first love. I read "The Dancing Girl of Izu" and I was mesmerized by the endless sorrow and grief lurking in the hazy and joyful first love. In relation to the novel itself, the review is as golden as a sunlit lake.
For some of the novels included in the book, reading them also fiercely cleansed my formerly peaceful mind. For example, when the father's story and the letter to parents, the former shows the human nature of tolerance, the glory of love; the latter as one of the few works of Yasunari Kawabata with the meaning of self-narrative, to the readers side of the author's life and experience, the feelings of sincere, delicate, strong nostalgia for their parents and self-pity jumped off the page.
I have a special affection for the hero of The Beast. He is, by and large, fearing love on one side and longing for it on the other, living with a maid but obsessed with raising a wide variety of birds and investing a great deal of energy and love into it. Ostensibly a pathological phenomenon rejected by normal life. Somehow, the moment I felt sympathy for him inside, I was again fascinated by this morbid beauty of his, and I thus wondered if there was an extreme hara-kiri in my own inner world.
In terms of the short story collections that I have read, Yasunari Kawabata's A Circle Dance of Flowers has a greater impact on me. Similar to the author's other novels, there is always a light sadness between the lines, and at the same time, it is the humanistic concern that remains unchanged for ages that urges people to be touched. In other words, most of the characters in Yasunari Kawabata's novels are mesmerizing, with a warmth of peace, calmness, and tolerance. It reminds me of my childhood, when people were lovely, simple, kind, generous, and warm. In a few decades, too many good qualities have been lost from human beings, which is perhaps a strange product of this era and social environment, and I wonder what the future will be like.
I pulled myself out of the world of the book, the afternoon sun was just right.
When I walked past the lilacs in a line, I got caught up in the spirit, and put my nose on the delicate flowers. So sniffed several times, from the pink lilac to white lilac, and from the white lilac to purple flower clusters, lilac strong aroma makes me a burst of heart, can not help but some of the linger.
Passing through the square in front of the main gate of the National Library, Xifu begonias and the red maple in front of the monument and jumped into my eyes. I can not help but think of the things I stood under the begonias: I was gathered to appreciate the spirit of the begonias, a young woman gently approached, asked for her to take a few pictures. I readily agreed, and I have never refused to help others.
We moved four or five meters, she posed in front of the "Children's Library" sign, and I pressed the button on her cell phone to take a picture. I took a few more photos of her afterward. All in all, we were attracted and touched by the endless beauty. She told me:
"I just had a launch in front of me. And I found this great new children's illustrated book from Taiwan, so I borrowed it and went back to show it to my daughter." , and as she spoke she pulled out a collection of stories from a fine paper bag and showed it to me, a contented smile on her face.
She looked at the photos in her cell phone and then said, "You took great pictures! Thank you so much."
I looked at the youths shuttling to and fro, stopped, fixed my eyes and looked at the begonias again, some white petals fluttering in the wind. The breeze was brushing my face and the warm evening sun was slanting down.