Give you some essays.
If it is too much, copy one paragraph a day.
Pipa in the tomb
Author: Lin Qingxuan
I recently read the biography of Ruan Xian, a Wei and Jin artist. Ruan Xian was one of the seven masters in Wei, Jin, Southern and Northern Dynasties. At that time, he was called "Seven Sages of Bamboo Forest", but he was just as famous as six other sages, including Ruan Ji, Ji Kang, Dan Tao, Xiang Xiu, Wang Rong and Liu Ling. Because his literary creation has not been preserved at all, it is difficult for us to trace his achievements in poetry creation from the text.
Fortunately, when Ruan Xian died, he was buried with the pipa instrument, which made him one of the few great musicians in the history of China music. With Ruan Xian buried in the grave, the pipa was buried for 500 years from the Western Jin Dynasty to the Tang Dynasty. During the Kaiyuan period of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang Dynasty, a bronze round musical instrument was unearthed in the ancient tomb, which was proved to be a relic of Ruan Xian by Yuan Hangchong, a bachelor of Hong Wen Museum.
This pipa at home has been used for 500 years. Yuan Xing asked a skilled musician to copy a wooden musical instrument according to its style, called "Yueqin", which has a bright and elegant tone and has been passed down to this day. It has not only become a musical instrument in the court, but also became the most commonly used musical instrument among the people.
In the era of Tang Dezong, Dewey, a famous scholar, named the yueqin "Ruan Xian" to commemorate his legacy, because it was created by Ruan Xian. Since then, all pipa instruments in China have been nicknamed "Ruan Xian", and the musical history of Ruan Xian and China is immortal.
The story of Ruan Xian and Pipa is suitable for association. After repeated training in time and space, although we are not lucky enough to listen to Ruan Xian's voice of silk and bamboo again, we can feel that a great artistic soul is immortal. The greatness of artistic mind, even if it has been underground for hundreds of years, even if the strings of his musical instrument have been rotten, can still shine in time and space, dazzling. After Ruan Xian died, he was buried with Pipa as his only known friend. This sense of art has always made him unforgettable.
The famous song Guangling San, which has been praised as the highest realm of China music through the ages, is the creation of Ruan Xian. With the death of Ruan Xian, Guangling San became a masterpiece of China's music. Now we look at the vast land and listen to the footsteps of history. Under the stars and moons in the summer night, it seems that Ruan Xian plays Qin Yue under the bamboo forest to amuse himself, or uses Ji Kang's guqin (Ji Kang is an guqin). What kind of state is that? That is the realm of "resisting foreign things and not serving others", the realm of "I am drunk and sleepy, and I intend to play the piano in the Ming Dynasty", and the realm of "fame and fortune are all plays, and I have never felt negative about life".
Ruan Xian's musical talent is almost innate. He was called the "divine solution" of music when he was very young. When any music reaches his ears, he immediately distinguishes between high and low, and he is not happy at all. Therefore, he can not only make people intoxicated when playing Qin Yue, but also be a music critic, and his appreciation of music is unparalleled in the world. Unexpectedly, his music criticism offended Gou Jian, the official in charge of the national Yuefu, vilified Emperor Wu of Jin and dismissed Ruan Xian.
When Ruan Xian lost his official position, his official position was "assistant on a donkey". We don't need textual research to explain this title, but relate it to aesthetic feeling, just like seeing an outstanding wandering pianist playing the piano and singing everywhere on a donkey.
In fact, Ruan Xian is very contemptuous of contemporary etiquette. During his mother's funeral, he wore mourning clothes and rode a donkey to chase his long-cherished maid Hu, which caused great controversy. I thought it was incredible at that time, but now I think it's particularly sad. Unfortunately, it is impossible to verify whether he played the piano and sang love songs when chasing Hu's servant girl. This bohemian and informal life is the most true portrayal of artists' expression of love for Lin Quan in Wei and Jin Dynasties.
I always thought that Ruan Xian, who is a vagabond, regardless of etiquette, guqin crazy songs and indifferent, can forget, but not music. Buried with pipa is an unsolved mystery. Can this "ritual solution" be expected that thousands of years later, people can remember the truth of Guangling San that spread in his hands thousands of years ago from the pipa at home? Ruan Xian has inspired us more than that. He and the artists at that time gave us a broad vision, that is, the mind of "taking the ground as the building and the room as the Zen clothes". Because of this kind of mind, they can appreciate the joy of life and shine the brilliance of art.
One of my favorite stories about "Seven Sages of Bamboo Forest" is that one day Ji Kang, Ruan Ji, Ruan Xian, Dan Tao and Liu Ling were drinking in the bamboo forest, and Wang Rong finally came. Ruan Ji said, "This tacky thing has come to spoil our fun again!" Wang Rong replied, "Will your happiness be corrupted?" This story tells the true story of the artistic life of "Seven Sages of Bamboo Forest". Look at the pipa Ruan Xian left at the grave. Although rotten, it will never rot. Because the pipa once belonged to a great artistic mind, it was doomed to be immortal in people's hearts-so, I'm afraid the pipa has a heart!
Chenxiang No.3 Station
Author: Lin Qingxuan
Last Christmas, I watched Pope Pope Paul VI burn incense at midnight mass in the Vatican on TV.
It was a sandalwood in a golden bowl, burning on time. It is said that through this incense lamp, people's prayers can reach the sky. I saw the Pope slowly shaking the incense bowl, praying, and the cigarette curled up, and I was moved inexplicably. When I learned that besides Buddhism and Taoism, there were Catholicism and Christianity, it suddenly occurred to me that I was a second-grade primary school student.
Once I asked my father, what is the difference between Christianity and Taoism? Father said casually, "They don't worship or burn incense." This answer is generally correct, but later I found that there is no difference between "prayer" and "bye-bye" in essence, but I never knew whether western religions burn incense.
When I saw the Pope burning incense on the altar, that feeling made my childhood experience emerge from the distant memory corridor. The incense in the pope's hand is the same as the incense inserted before the ancestor's case in a deeper sense, both of which are promoted from the ordinary world to the paradise we yearn for.
I once went to an Indian temple and found that ancient Indian religions also burned incense.
Why do the gods of the world know our wishes after burning incense? When did this legend begin? I don't know. According to my guess, the smoke that rises invisibly, because we don't know where it flies, just watch it float in the air and become the sustenance of our hearts and wishes.
Burning incense is the strangest thing. Whenever you see incense, your heart will have the power of stability. I believe that the fragrance is not just a wisp of smoke, but in a distant place, a god listened to our voice through that wisp of smoke.
A friend came back from other places and gave me a bouquet of Tibetan exotic incense. The sachet is full of long and twisted Tibetan. Because it comes from the cold north, it is not easy to turn around, so I have been reluctant to light it. It seems that it will burn out and lose things after use.
Since the beginning of spring, it has rained for dozens of days in a row, and people's hearts have become sour and moldy as if they had been pickled by rain. Walking around the house every day is really boring.
Open the window, the filaments of spring rain float into the room with the breeze, and there is always a damp smell in the room. One day, my beloved unicorn bonsai withered because of rainy days. When I looked at the unicorn grass, I suddenly felt very sad and confused.
I took out the bouquet of Tibetan exotic incense from the cupboard and lit one on the incense table. The incense is stronger than that in the temple, and its smoke is also condensed. After three feet, it dispersed around, and the room suddenly filled with a fragrance.
The fragrance gives people a warm and dry feeling and resists the moisture in the house. I sat at my desk, not reading, not working, just meditating quietly, so that my mind was condensed like incense, my depression and confusion gradually faded, and my heart gradually became sober.
I like rain, but rain should be an episode of sunny days, not the main theme of the weather; Once rain becomes the main theme of the weather, people's mood is like rain, and they can't find the center of gravity. However, if it rains all the time, it's nothing, so light a incense at home!
There is a gazebo in Yuanye where the fragrance is small, but it is like heavy rain, which has reserved a pure land for me-at that time, the rain in the south of the Yangtze River also had the amorous feelings of Tibetan grassland.
Drinking tea is often not to quench your thirst, but to have fun, especially drinking a small cup of kung fu tea, which can't be finished at one gulp, and it is a bit thin.
Of all the teas, I like frozen top oolong tea best. The frozen top is not as floating as fragrant tablets, as astringent as green tea, as bitter as Pu 'er and as hard as Tieguanyin. It tastes simple and golden, so you can savor it.
A friend knows that I love frozen roofs and gave me a can of old frozen roofs that I have collected for many years. On the jar, the word "agarwood" is written. The color of agarwood is thicker than the frozen roof, but the smell has completely changed. Although the oolong is clumsy, it still has a little sweetness, while the agarwood hides the sweetness and fragrance, leaving only the real clumsiness and lifelessness, as if it were filtered out of memory; Memories are sometimes tasteless, but they are so deep that people are immersed in them and don't know the flow of years.
China people say seven things: "firewood, rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar and tea". Tea is not served. I think if there is "agarwood" to drink, it will soar forward and get ahead.
The best thing, of course, is to light a wick in the house on rainy days. When the light rain floats outside like a star, soak a pot of agarwood and watch the smoke and tea incense curl up in your chest. At that time, you can really forget all the insults.
Flute fluttering in the wind
Author: Lin Qingxuan
A cool breeze is blowing from a distance. There is a whirring sound in the wind.
Listen carefully. It sounds like some kind of music. I analyzed it for a long time and determined that it was a voice, because Xiao's voice was not so clear and so high.
Being far away makes me doubt my judgment; Whose flute can penetrate the vast Ye Ping, it is raining in the sky, and it can also penetrate the rain and spread in the fields? The flute doesn't seem to be that long, not to mention only a few simple rhythms.
The place where I stand is a rural farmland, and the left and right sides are rice fields that extend far away. There is a mountain behind me and a bamboo forest in front. The music obviously comes from Ma Zhulin, and the distance behind it seems to be echoing.
Is there anyone in the bamboo forest? When I was a child, I thought bamboo forest was the most mysterious of all forests, especially those with a long history. Because no matter how dense all the Woods are, the sun can always penetrate without difficulty, only the dense leaves of the bamboo forest, and sometimes even the sun can do nothing; No matter how big the forest is, there are rules, and people can walk freely in it. It's just that some bamboo forests have no rules, and sometimes you get lost when you walk in them. So when I was young, my father told us that "there is no one in the bamboo forest", what's more, some bamboo forests have thorns, like thorn bamboo forests.
This idea made me hesitate to go into the bamboo forest. I sat in the rice field and listened to the music alone. I think it's still early, about two miles from the bamboo forest, so I decided to take a walk in the bamboo forest-I think the place with music must be safe.
When I stood in front of the bamboo forest, the whole person was shocked by the stormy music. It's like a piece of Le Hai, choppy and imposing. That's not human music, and there is no one in the bamboo forest. Bamboo itself is a musical instrument, the wind is the conductor, and the relationship between bamboo and bamboo leaves is the performer. It took me a long time to find it.
Now, it turns out that bamboo has been sprinkled by light rain and has water stains on it. When they rub against each other, it sounds as sharp as a flute. And the bamboo leaves swaying all over the sky can't stop the wind even if it rains, making many fine sounds, matching the bamboo flute.
Everyone will be moved by natural sounds, such as frogs croaking in summer nights, birds chirping in spring mornings, and even symphonies on windy days and waves. There is nothing natural that doesn't impress us. Every year at the turn of winter and spring, I always feel a burst of joy when I hear the distant spring thunder ringing in the silent night.
I have a friend who likes cicadas better. When he was in Xia Meng, he often sat alone in the mountains for a day in order to listen to cicadas. Once he sent me a tape, which was recorded in Hualien Mountain. It was already winter when it was sent to me. I played a recording tape on a cold night, and all the cicadas were chirping again and again, making the indifferent room look like countless cicadas dancing in pairs. The beauty of that experience is sometimes as beautiful as listening to cicadas in the mountains.
Later, I also like to record the sounds of nature, such as the gurgling sound of running water and the sound of mountain wind blowing. Once, I played a tape with the name "Xiaoxi" written on it. Suddenly, there were two sharp birdsongs in the brook, which echoed in my ears for a long time, just like people suddenly lost their voices and sighed with joy when they remembered the joy of the past in a calm moment.
But I have heard many voices of nature, but I have never felt such a profound voice in this bamboo forest. It turns out that all the sounds in nature are solos, and even the most beautiful sounds just touch our heartstrings, but the symphony of bamboo forest has surrounded me as a whole, just like the first tightly ringing note played by a symphony orchestra of 100 people. At that time, I really knew why many musical instruments in China are made of bamboo, because no natural plant can make a clear, long and lasting sound like bamboo.
Unfortunately, the sound of bamboo was not recorded. Later, I went there several times, but it was either no rain or no wind, or there was rain, which was not as good as before. I see, it is still a blessing to hear beautiful natural sounds. It changes endlessly, but every moment is completely different. If there is no wind, bamboo is just bamboo. With wind, bamboo becomes music. With wind and rain, bamboo becomes a symphony.
People who lose their understanding of natural sounds are the most pathetic. When someone says "picturesque", the realm is low, because the painting is static and the natural scenery is alive and moving. In addition to visual observation, nature also provides various sounds, which makes nature beyond the realm that people can create. There are countless artists in the world who draw inspiration from nature, but even the best artists can't fully capture the soul of nature, because nature is full of sounds and pictures, still alive and changing all the time, which is beyond the reach of art.
Most importantly, even the best art has an ending. Naturally, there is no ending. Knowing this, artists will inevitably feel the loneliness of "thinking about heaven and earth, boundless, boundless, lonely and tearful". It is touching that people can draw a picture of the Yangtze River, but it is never as touching as the true feelings of the Yangtze River; People can record the songs of cicadas, but this can never replace watching beautiful cicadas singing touching songs on the treetops.
On that day, I heard the bamboo flute blown by the wind in the bamboo forest, but I forgot the passage of time. When I walked out of the bamboo forest, the sunset was wandering in the valley. The rain has stopped, but I seem to have taken a bath of my heart and washed away all the dust and customs.
I think as long as there is nature, there is no reason for people to give up.
Write poems on lotus flowers with years.
Author: Lin Qingxuan
Passing through Baihe Town in Tainan County that day was like suddenly drinking a glass of cold honey water in summer, which was cold and sweet.
Baihe Town is a magical place. It is the largest lotus planting area in the province. Walking in the alley and wandering in the fields, you will see a large beautiful lotus field at the corner. Those carefully cultivated lotus competitions seem to be naturally generated, and there is no shame in the beautiful scenery of the earth, especially in summer.
When I went, it happened to be the harvest season of lotus seeds, and everyone who planted lotus seeds was busy. Adults and children go to the lotus trap to collect lotus seeds. For those of us who only sigh after seeing the beautiful appearance of lotus, we never know how hard the family who planted lotus seeds worked to maintain a pool of lotus seeds and let it blossom and bear fruit.
"The setting sun is slanting, and the evening breeze is floating. Let's sing a rumor about picking lotus. Red flowers are bright, white flowers are charming, and the face is fragrant to eliminate wind and heat. You paddle, I punt, this is a small bridge. The boat is fast, the song is high, and the lotus music. " The ballad of picking lotus, which we sang when we were young, seems to be a dream in Baihe, because people who plant lotus flowers are not picking them for ornamental purposes, but using them to maintain the life of a family. There is no lotus fertilizer to paddle and support the pole in the lotus field, but they have to step on the mud in the lotus field step by step.
Lotus picking time is when the sun just comes out in the morning or when the sun is about to set at dusk. Lotus pickers carried bamboo baskets and hats one by one, waded into shallow mud, picked mature lotus leaves one by one and put them in bamboo baskets.
The picked lotus seeds are dug out first, and there is a thick shell outside the lotus seeds. They should be peeled off one by one with a knife, and the crystal white lotus seeds rolled all over the floor. After the lotus seeds are peeled off, we should pick out the lotus plumule in the lotus seeds with a fine needle. All this depends on dexterous handwork, and no one can be lazy, so the whole family joined the work. Empty lotus flowers can be sold to Chinese medicine shops and hung for decoration; White lotus seeds can be used to cook lotus seed soup and make many delicious dishes; Bitter lotus seeds can be used as bitter tea, which can reduce fire and refresh people.
I worked in Baihe town for a day to see the people in Lotus. I don't know why I always feel that people who grow lotus flowers are like lotus seeds. On the surface, lotus flowers are beautiful. The landscape of the lotus field is the most beautiful among all crops, but their hardships are as bitter as lotus seeds. Lotus picking season is from Dragon Boat Festival to the turn of summer and autumn in September. After the lotus seeds are harvested, the next step is to dig the lotus roots in the field.
The lotus field is actually a piece of sludge. Lotus pickers should guard against the blood-sucking water frogs swimming around in the field. The stems of the lotus are covered with thorns. I saw that everyone's trousers were riddled with these dense thorns, and sometimes they were scratched with blood. It can be seen that it is not easy to live on beautiful lotus flowers.
The children rolled lotus leaves into cups and ran around the ridge of the lotus field holding lotus seeds, which made me feel that no matter how hard they harvested, they had a happy side.
Lotus is actually a lotus, which is called "Lotus" before flowering and "Lotus" after flowering and fruiting. I always feel that the two names have different meanings: the feeling of lotus is innocent, like a clean and flawless girl, while lotus is a solemn treasure, like a young woman about to give birth. Lotus is suitable for viewing and is a friend of poets and artists. Lotus brings a little bitterness of life, which is the support of lotus people's life Remembering my ignorance of the lotus for many years, I only like to see the lotus from a distance and miss it; But I have never walked into the real lotus world, and I can't help feeling guilty when I look at the joys and sorrows of life behind the lotus field.
Who knows how much blood and sweat it takes to have thirty lotus seeds in a lotus flower? Who knows how long it will take farmers to drink a bowl of frozen lotus seed soup in summer?
I accompanied a lotus grower to inspect his lotus field, watched him walk through the lotus field covering an area of one square yard, and told me how to plant lotus, how to irrigate it, how to plant it, how to harvest it, and how to avoid the wind and disaster. While waiting for next year's harvest, I think one of the most common things in the world may never be known to us, even if it is as small as a lotus seed.
Standing on the lotus field, watching the sun shine on the lotus field, I think that "leaving the residual lotus to listen to the rain" is probably a realm that lotus people can't enjoy, because when the lotus is residual, they will sow again. Lotus leaves in the field sit together, stand together and interweave in the field. Let's praise the beauty of lotus leaf with some ethereal poems, and never compare with those lotus farmers who write poems on the lotus leaf with years and sweat!
Wings of Phoenix
Author: Lin Qingxuan
I often think that creative life can be divided into two categories: one is like the struggle between stars or planets, which radiates permanent and stable light, and this kind of creation has left us many huge and profound works; Another kind, like a comet or a meteor, flashes in the starry sky at night, leaving a short and dazzling brilliance. This kind of work needs inspiration especially, and it has also washed our hearts for a while.
There is no difference between the two creative values, but the former needs a deep mind and the latter needs the talent to fly. Recently, I saw the work Woman City by Italian movie master Ferini in Taipei, and I was shocked by Ferini's comet-like talent. This is a simple story. It is about a middle-aged man who meets a beautiful young girl on the train and gets off to follow her. He was misled to a city full of women, where there were members of the women's liberation movement, including showgirls, sluts, shrews, call girls, "third sex" girls and so on. In this bizarre world, Ferini seems to be writing an inspirational notebook, and each paragraph shows extraordinary talent. These inspirational notes are like one dream after another. At first glance, every dream is surreal and meaningless. When we think about it, it seems that we have experienced every dream. Any dream is empty in the end, but it writes an impossible imagination for us.
As Ferini said: "This movie is like a chat after a meal, where a man tells a woman's past lives;" But men don't understand women, so they are lost in the forest like little red riding hood in fairy tales.
Since this film is a dream, it uses symbolic language; I hope you don't try to explain its meaning; Because there is nothing to explain. "Sometimes inspiration can't be explained, especially for creators, there are many ideas that have flashes of light, which are very important to themselves, but may be meaningless to ordinary people, but for some people with flashes of light, it is a kind of * * * sound, just like boating on the sea at night and encountering the same bright lights.
In our ever-changing era, artistic creators are really like a phoenix with mottled tail feathers on their colorful bodies; It flies in the air and sings beautiful songs. I remember reading the story of the fire phoenix. The fire phoenix is the most beautiful bird in the world. When it realized that it was at the peak of beauty and could not fly forward, it burned itself and was reborn in the ashes.
This is a beautiful legend, which is very appropriate to describe artists. I think that any artist who can't be reborn in his own ashes can't fly to a better world, and anyone who can't burn himself can't wear himself out and let people see more delicious scenes.
For example, as the old saying goes, "cross the rubicon", if you can't sink the boat on the shore when sailing, you may not have enough determination and perseverance to sail to the other side even if the scenery on the other side is picturesque and magnificent. Art is like this, and so are mortals. We have many dreams and many choices in life. We often hesitate to protect our wings and lose the opportunity to reach the other side.
People can't fly, but the wings of thought can fly to unknown distances, which is where people can be infinite. Not long ago, I read a book called The Sacred Light of Thought, which said that people's thoughts have different light and forms in different situations. Although the divine light of this thought is invisible to the naked eye, the new electronic camera can capture the divine light of people and infer a person's thought from the brightness and color of the light.
There is also a saying that when we miss someone, the divine light of our thoughts has reached him and warmed the person we miss; When we hate a person, the sacred light of thought goes to his side and fights with his sacred light, both of which are damaged invisibly. China people's so-called "predestination" and "intimate relationship" are all due to the similarity of thinking and harmony in silence.
I think this "divine light of thought" and "inspiration" have something in common. "Last night, the west wind adjusted the green trees, and I looked up at the road with my arms high", and the inspiration was Tianzhu; When "the belt is getting wider and wider, no regrets, it will make people feel scared for Iraq", the inspiration is to focus on flying to the distance; When people searched for him for thousands of times, they suddenly looked back. That person was in the dim light, and inspiration was everywhere, like a silent and solemn treasure sitting in the dim light in the depths of the soul.
Inspiration and dreams are insoluble, but they can be exercised and cultivated. A person's life is full of twists and turns. Whether he can open his eyes of wisdom and climb to a higher spiritual realm depends on whether he can temper his seemingly unknowable inspiration into a magical light full of emptiness and invite himself.
People's thinking is as colorful as the phoenix, and people's flashing dreams are the wings of the phoenix, which can fly to very high and far places and last for thousands of years-so people are limited and infinite.