Lift your head from the book, through the window that opens toward the east, only to see a pale white outside the window, a round bright full moon has risen in the night sky.
"The light of the moon in front of the bed is suspected to be frost on the ground; raising my head to look at the bright moon, lowering my head to think of my hometown."
Suddenly, I remembered that tonight is the Mid-Autumn Festival, another year away from home. A kind of indescribable melancholy, slowly from the bottom of the heart welled up, straight on the eyebrows. The first thing I'd like to say is that I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm sure that I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm sure that I'm going to be able to do it. The moonlight can't come in because of the lights on in the house, and you can only see her ethereal beauty from the window.
So I pushed open the door and went out to enjoy the boundless mid-autumn moonlight.
Beyond the door is a flat area, and beyond that is the weather bureau's observatory, which is surrounded by several beds of turquoise vegetables.
It's a hilltop in the southwest of the county.
Walking to the edge of the mountain, gusts of mountain wind blowing from the city at the foot of the cool into the bottom of the heart, the heart of the bitterness and sadness, have been blown away a lot. The small mountain city of Qinglong, like half a ring, embracing the meteorological bureau where the Feifeng Mountain, standing on the edge of the mountain, you can have a bird's eye view of the whole city. The moonlight is as soft as egg white and as tranquil as a mountain spring, gently enveloping down from the sky and draping the earth in a thin veil of mystery and harmony.
The mountain town at its feet looked even more beautiful.
Looking around, during the day, dense houses and pavilions, this time all in the haze this, only to see countless flickering lights; and when it swayed to reach your eyes, has taken a layer of light halo, looks soft and quiet. In that light, this time must be warm and sweet, the family gathered together, is *** enjoying the festivities.
In the distance is a band of distant mountains, the moonlight stretches up, the clouds and the sky rise, leading your eyes to the high places, leading to the vast sky. My heart turned into a light bird, in the moonlight night sky moon fly farther and farther ......
Childhood at home, this is exactly the family's most joyful moments: after dinner, the family cheerfully sitting in the yard, while watching the round moon rise from the sky, while eating moon cakes, peanuts,, melon seeds, while listening to their parents say some Or they would play with their friends in the fields in front of and behind the village, jumping rope, playing night fights, drilling haystacks, and playing "eagle catching chickens" under the bright moonlight.......
But such happy times are already gone. The first time I saw the world, I was in the middle of the world, I was in the middle of the world, I was in the middle of the world, I was in the middle of the world, I was in the middle of the world, I was in the middle of the world,hollister france. The warmth and joy of this childhood, only deep in the bottom of the heart, lonely is the time to turn over, but also enough to comfort the feelings of chatting over nothing.
From time to time, from the far side of a distant car, strong headlights cut through the night sky, cut through the tranquility of the moonlight is also harmonious, and then disappeared in the tranquility of the moonlight. Its hoarse hissing, after the moonlight washing, curling to reach your ears, is no longer the original monotonous mechanical wailing, and has become a murmuring whispers, mixed with the tenderness of the moonlight and the honeyed words of the night. May want to think in this pale moon, they are the world's loneliest person, then realize that there are many people and their own, in this "full moon" Mid-Autumn Festival night wandering in a foreign land, alone chewing the heart of the bitterness and loneliness. I think that the traveler in the car, this time also like me, miss the relatives in the hometown.
A mountain wind blew, as if blowing the veil of moonlight, the foot of the mountain city also seems to swing up with the moonlight ......
"Alone in a foreign land for the foreign guest, every festive season doubly think of relatives; distant brothers know that the place of climbing high, all inserted cornelian cherry less a man. "
This song has been sung for thousands of years, although it is written about the 9th day of the 9th lunar month, but at this time to think of it is doubly intimate. In this mid-autumn night on the top of Feifengshan Mountain, a person to see all the lights, mountain wind as a friend, tsetse shadow as a companion, the loneliness of the heart to whom to say, who knows, and who can understand it? At this moment tonight, the elderly parents at home can know, in this 10,000 miles away from the top of the mountain city, I am missing them?
Yes, they do! I once wrote a poem "When you are homesick, your relatives at home are also thinking of you", right? ......
Mid-Autumn Moon, please bring my thoughts and blessings to my loved ones at home, okay? The moon is already in the sky, and the color of the moon in the mid-autumn festival is even brighter. A mountain wind blew, do not feel have written cool.
Walking into the house, the night is already deep ......
2, that year the Mid-Autumn Festival
In the traditional festivals of the year, I am most eagerly looking forward to, not the Spring Festival, but the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the most favorite, not the rice cake, but the moon cake.
My hometown is in the tropics, where the four seasons are not obvious. Every year, when the mooncakes at the kiosk at the entrance of the village smell like mooncakes, I know that the Mid-Autumn Festival is coming soon, even though the bamboo and trees are still flourishing, and the weather is still so hot.
The kiosk was a branch of the town's supply and marketing cooperative in the brigade, not far from the school. Every day after school, whether I had money in my pocket or not, I would go to the kiosk for a while, flipping through the books, smelling the candy, and having a spiritual feast.
Mid-Autumn Festival is near, the aroma of mooncakes filled the entire store, the store sells, is a clear Cantonese mooncake, mooncake filling, in addition to peanuts, sesame seeds, walnuts and melon seeds, and the local people's favorite spice black olive oil. Mooncake packaging is simple, ten stacks, rolled in white paper, mooncake oil through the paper and over, the aroma also followed the overflow. When someone buys a mooncake and breaks it open to eat it, the aroma is so strong that it makes you gag.
I was in the fourth grade at the time, and my family was so poor that we would never buy a mooncake until the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, and if we did, we would only buy one, cut it into pieces, and give each of my siblings a dime.
That day, I really want to want to eat a mooncake alone addiction, the old textbook bundle, to the brigade buying station to sell 20 cents, after the excitement of pouncing into the kiosk to buy mooncakes, but that claimed to be a fair-weather shopkeeper, but I gave me a mooncake missing corners, where I will not do it? As I was arguing with him, someone came in, and I saw that it was my class teacher, Ms. Wei, who was carrying a bundle of things in her hand. I greeted her, but she only nodded and told the shopkeeper to buy a stack of mooncakes. I took the mooncake with the missing corner and was about to sneak out, when Ms. Wei said, "Wait! Then she brought the bundle in her hand up to the counter, and when I looked at it, it was the textbook I had just sold. Ms. Wei said, "Don't sell your books even if you are poor. If you sell your books, what will you study for the middle school exam later? After that, she shoved the books and mooncakes to me and walked away.
I stayed in the store for a long time, not believing that it was true, when I reacted and walked out of the kiosk, there was only the empty village road stretching towards the front in front of my eyes, I looked at the ripping calendar on the wall of the kiosk, and I remembered this day forever: September 27th, 1977, Tuesday, the 15th day of the 8th lunar month, the Mid-Autumn Festival ......
The moon that night was especially big, especially round, especially bright, bright moonlight, shining on the body, shining in the heart, until today ......
3, the Indian Ocean on the Autumn Thoughts
Last night in the Mid-Autumn Festival. At dusk the western sky hangs down a large curtain of mica screen, cover the tide of light of the setting sun, the sea and the sky integration into
dark blue, silent as black as the nuns in front of the Holy Throne in silent prayer.
After a moment, that is to say, I heard the top of the boat on the canopy sobbing
to, low-pressure clouds mixed with the color of the misty rain, will be forced to the sea line as narrow as a lake, along the edge of the black shadows, can not be recognized as a mountain
is the cloud, but the traces of tears, but full of water in the air.
Another fall! The sound of the rain in the rapid, there are scattered rusty flavor, even with the gloomy atmosphere, just in
my soul whispered in the ear: "Autumn"! My original joyless state of mind, can not resist that gentle infiltration, but also open
Put the spring and summer between the accumulation of autumn thoughts, and at this time the foreign grievances of the composition of the merger, the output of a weak baby - "sadness".
The sky has long been dark and the rain has stopped. But the sobbing clouds are still loosely curtained in the sky, revealing only some pale
shimmering light, foreshadowing that the bright moon is already fully loaded, waiting for the opening. At the same time, the ship smoke is being gulped, building a long bridge of
python scales, straight to the end of the western sky, and the ship out of the first class of green waves of white foam, up and down contrast, to stay in the west of the trail of the
trace.
North sky cloud curtain open, a bright emerald star, happy to come first to ask for news, like the new bride's maidservant, also dressed
dressed up all over the body colorful. But the bride has not yet come out.
When I was a kid, I used to sit outside the window of the building on Mid-Autumn nights and watch the "moon". If there were clouds in the sky, I
would be worried about the "shining moon". If you see the fish scale-like clouds, my heart will be happy and happy, praying for the moon
children to bloom soon, because I often heard people say that as long as there is a "corrugated" clouds, there will be the moon; but in the moonlight before the release of the color, my mother
parents have long been forced to go to bed, so the moon is just a never realized in my mind, an imaginary, until now, I have to go to bed. Until now.
Now the sky is filled with corrugated clouds, which suddenly bring back many funny memories of my early years - but where is my pure
childhood now!
Moonlight has a mysterious gravitational pull. She can make the sea waves roar, she can make tides of sorrow. The moonlight's sighs of relief can be gathered
into mountains, and the moonlight's tears of love can cultivate a hundred acres of orchids and a thousand stems of purple lengeng. I suspect that sadness is inherent in human beings,
otherwise, why do we not know the period of sadness for a few years, and sometimes, in the light of a lagoon, often tears of sadness?
But I do not shed tears tonight. It is not that there are no tears to be shed, nor is it that civilized education has weaned me from my purest instincts, but
it is that I have felt the divine sadness that thrills the curiosity of my understanding, and I want to learn from the Cheikhut Baiden ① to dissect this mysterious
"Cold eyes, cold bones, tired". Cold intellect is always the mortal enemy of hot love. They cannot be compatible.
①Chegout Baiden, commonly translated as Chateaubriand (1768-1848), was a French writer,
author of Adara, René, and others. His works are characterized by a sense of religion and primitivism.
But to come to an exercise in cold analysis on such a romantic moonlit night seemed unkind! So my mind turned,
repeating the sharp intellectual drama, let the intoxicated tears of love flow naturally, listen to what music he produces, let the loving poetic soul roam
since the low back to see what dreams he seeks out.
The bright moon was in the midst of the cloudy rocks, surrounded by a halo of yellow color, and a burst of light mist, tugging before her. The sea
Hundreds of undulating silver gullies, all together in the micro scolding mournful its syllables, in addition to not subject to the clear light of the wave domain, in the dark grave grave rises and falls,
I do not know whether it is a grudge or a moo.
I will be a part of their own emotions, into the phenomenon of nature, on the one hand, holding a pen and paper, looking at the moon, wanting to
from her bright and clean light, to see the traces of the autumn thoughts on the ground tonight, hoping that they are in my heart, condensed into a high and pure emotions of
Essence. Because of her bright short feet, this night all over the sky, the earth's enmity, which does not pass through her wise eyes?
There is a small village by the Ganges River in India. Outside of the village, by the side of a banyan-flannel-embroidered lake, there sits a pair of drunken men and women, with an antique copper incense burner on the grass in between them, burning the finest water breath, and the gentle, gentle and loving smoke, and the
heat of the incense is a symbol of their love.
The moonlight from the clouds gently bent down on the beads in front of the woman's head,
Water breath on the end of the smoke, printed a kind kiss, slightly sun, repeat boarded her cloud boat, up to sail away.
On the upper floor of a courtyard, the curtains were not lowered, a few fat branches of tung leaves are swaying on the glass, the moonlight peeped
in the window of a small mosquito bed, purple net, sleeping a child like Angel, she gently next to the body, in his warm
soft eyelashes, tender peach-like cheeks, caressing for a while. And her silver fingers, straightened his umbilical cord round forehead hair,
Amiably slightly related, and went back to her sea of clouds.
A disappointed poet, sitting on a rock by the river, with a pensive look written on his face, the silhouette of his beloved, flowing like a river in
his breast, and he could not wring out some slight sweet liquid from the dregs of his disappointment, he opened his arms, tilted his head, and
letting the moonlight of the Great Mercy, which was passing by at that time, bathe the swollen eyes of his tear ducts, he seemed to feel the comfort of the clear heart,
and the comfort of the clear mind. Qing Xin's comfort,
immediately felt out a pen, on the white lapel wrote:
Moonlight,
You are the disappointed child's nurse!
The window-panes of a woodshed on the sea-facing side looked into the contents of the house: half a loaf of bread and a few strips of cold meat on a small table,
the remainder of the supper, a household Bible open on the table in front of the window, and on the hearth-shelf two lighted candlesticks that wept uncontrollably,
and beside them sat a wrinkled-faced, hunched-over old woman, with her eyes half-closed on a sobbing one who was crouched in her lap, a young woman, whose
long skirt was scattered on the floor like a large flower butterfly. The old woman turned her head to look out of the window, only to see the distant sea waves rising and falling, and the kind
moonlight embracing and honey-kissing, and she sighed and mouthed to the moonlight colors slanting over the Bible,
"How desperate! So desperate!"
She was alone in her elegant study, with all the lamps out, leaning on a wicker chair at the window, and the moonlight cascading down over the shoulder of the east wall, enveloping her whole body, and creating a slender silhouette on the flowery tiles, with her two braided tresses, her slightly
tantalized lips, and the magnolias standing tall in front of the court, all trembling in the still moonlight, and she added her breath. She exhaled a
fragrance, not only the neighboring flowers and grasses, even the moon smelled, can not help but be enchanted, her cheeks natural wonderful swirls, has been for several
days not complete: she lost weight. But what was she thinking of? Moonlight, will you take my dreaming soul and place it on a magnolia branch three or five
feet from her.
Near a mining deposit in the western border of Wales1, three workers, with bulky pipes in their mouths, sat in the middle of the moonlight. All they could think of to say had been said, but the strange color of the moon, on the pines opposite them, and on the stream at their left, added
an unspeakable charm, except that their eyes were not closed in their after-work weariness, and that they had smoked to-night, by mutual consent, two more pipes than usual
but their faces, blackened with the fires of the mines, and blackened with coals, indicated the weakness of their minds, and the weakness of their hearts, in the midst of the mines, in the midst of the mines, in the midst of the mines. But their faces, blackened by the mine fires and blackened by the coals, indicated the weakness of their minds, and they could not feel the revulsion of exquisite emotion in the enjoyment of their pipes
outside of the sound of the streams of the autumn moon, though they were harsh. Waiting for the moon's shadow to move west some, they silently puffed
out a bucket of ash, got up and went into the house, each boarded the bed to sleep. The moonlight drifted in through the back of the house, and they were seen to be asleep;
they dreamed, if they dreamed at all, of nothing more than the view in and out of the mine!
1) Wales, commonly translated as Wales, a place in the south of the British island.
The moonlight crossed the Irish Channel and climbed the heights of Hailfleet Wood, right up to the silent red pool. The pool was frozen like
a great mass of ice, iron-green in color. The sloping peaks around it were all covered with crab-green and egg-white rock fragments, and there was not a single low tree
. Along the pool between some grass, the whole situation, is like a large green bowl, now full of clean moonlight, quiet
, the grass does not hear the insects, the water does not hear the fish leap; only stone cracks in the submerged stream pattering sound, intermittent sound, as if a
cathedral lighted with a small star fire, and more contrast to the quiet quiet realm, the moon in the iron-colored surface of the pool, leaning on the tired half of
, repeatedly pulling up her
, and then the moon, the moon, and then the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, and the moon.
The moon leaned half a day on the iron-colored surface of the pool, repeated the drawing up of her silver slipper, and went over the hill.
Yesterday, after the ship left Singapore, the direction was changed from east to northeast, so that the first few days of the ship's tip was facing the setting sun, and since then
"the factory of the evening sun" has gradually moved to the left hand of the direction of our ship.
Last night after dinner on deck, the right side of the ship, a sea of silver waves, in the sharp contains a secret color, bleak
expression, caused me to stare. That put silver light orb is hanging over your head, as its up against the bow of the ship to look up. She is
not very bright to-night: a veil of root-gray seems to be lightly covering her rounded features; a tone of sadness is lightly rippling;
a few traces of tearful mist are lightly staining her. She was not very bright, but her pure and gentle light, like the slanting glance of a young girl's light blue eyes; like the tender color of the spring sun melting in the reflection of the white clouds on the mountain tops, contained an inexplicable fascination, and a charming attitude, which all sensual beings in the world, when exposed to her clear light, reacted to, and also unfathomably, aroused the tension of a hidden inner realm,
and the tension of a hidden inner realm, like the strings of a lyre. --Like the strings of a lute, the most subtle emotions of life, the
impulses of the higher and newer creations of the halberd's life. Sometimes before the mental state, or at the same time, shaking the body's tissues, so that the feeling of the blood suddenly ice flow of ice
flow, the smell of the nerves can not help the acidity of pungency, the inner hidden surge of the beating, the tear ducts of the sudden heat and wet. That is the autumn moon rise of autumn thoughts
- sadness.
Last night's moonlight is the source of autumn thoughts, not only, straight is a symbol of sadness and melancholy, is the seasonal operation of the
We dramas in the most mysterious and the most natural scene, poetry and art is the most bleak and the most subtle a message.
Tonight the moon is bright and people are looking forward to it, I don't know in whose house the autumn thoughts are.
Chinese characters have a unique charm, and the structure of a few characters seems to me to be purely the work of the artist: this is
one of the most important aspects of our national culture. For example, the character "秋" (autumn) is already an extremely beautiful character form; the character "愁" (sorrow) is one of the masterpieces in the history of writing
; there is the beauty of a stone opening up a lake, and the wind sweeping away the pine needles, and this group of dots and paintings have been configured in such a way that they have gone through the seal of the paintings of Corot, Miguelangelangelo, and the other two of them have been painted by the artist. This group of dots has gone through the painting seal of Corot, the sculpture of Gelangelo, and the sense of God of Chopin; like - to use a scientific analogy - the structure of an atom, which shrinks the force of the rotating universe into an invisible and trackless nucleus; the symbols created by these thirteen strokes seem to be the symbols of the universe.
The symbols created by these thirteen strokes seem to be the purest and most precise crystallization of the tragic phenomena and experiences of Zeus and of life, of sighs and tears, full of hypnotic secret
power. If you have Gautier's extraordinary sensibility, you can certainly dream that the word "sadness" is transformed into a bright jade in the color of autumn haze, and if you hit it with a silver mallet, it will spit out a silver phantom serpent that seems to soar into the clouds.
I am not looking for the moon for the sake of autumn, and even less for the sake of new sorrows to visit the moon in autumn; deliberately immersed in the sad life, is
Dande ⑤ is not allowed. I have seen the moon and felt the colors of autumn; I have seen the windows of autumn and felt new sorrows: man is a cluster of fragile and reflexive
nerves!
1 Corot (1796-1875), French painter.
② Miguelangelo, commonly known as Miguelangelangelo (1475-1564), Italian sculptor and
painter in the height of the Renaissance.
3 Chopin, commonly known as Chopin (1810-1849), was a Polish composer and piano player.
4 Gautier, commonly known as Gautier (1811-1872), was a French poet, novelist, and critic.
5 Dante, commonly known as Dante (1265-1321), was an Italian poet and author of The Divine Comedy, among others.
I repeat back to the reality of the scenery, lightly wrapped in the cloud brocade of the autumn moon, like a veiled woman all over her body, her doughy
round and clear appearance like a bride, but at the same time, the color of her power strings, which is lotus-root grey, the hesitant heel of her line, the traces of the sobbing,
and make people suspect that it is the Lishu who is sending the mourners.
This is why I once said,
Autumn moon?
I do not look forward to your reunion.
This is the characteristic of the autumn moon, whether she is hanging in the sunset side of the new sickle, and "dusk and dawn" competing with the eyebrow hooks, in the
Night bucket did not have the western border of the Golden Bowl, nebulae between the silver bed, and even a round of full-bodied mid-autumn, regardless of the Jackson high and low, always in the original
To the clear and bright in the middle of the autumn, sprinkled with a kind of I can only call it "sadness. I can only call it "the light mist of sorrow" and "the ether of sadness".
Even if
you are not sad, you can't help but feel the "gray tones" and gradually get excited!
Autumn moon!
Who can't stand the silver fingertips
romantic scratching!
But look at the sea of light waves, not to be able to resist the caress of her finger, where the low wandering sob!
The clouds of boredom,
the beauty of the autumn moon,
warmed the heart of the cold eyes,
also coldly dressed in light onyx,
to participate in the
merciful marriage and funeral.
October 6 Shima
Seeking autumn over the ocean is the poet.
It is the poet who finds the colors of autumn on the ocean, which is moonlight.
A sea of silver waves or low hovering or roaring, the canopy "a bright emerald star joyfully came first to ask for news", and that Shan Shan
late new bride, is the poet has been waiting for a long time "moonlight". This piece of moonlight, such as nature that "a diarrhea of
clear light", rather than say that the poet's heart to the world of a piece of attention to caress the light.
Self-appointed "good movement", "want to fly" poet, in this travelogue poetic meaning is very strong in the prose with his imagination
wings traveled to the ends of the earth, travel thoughts, love and tears intoxicated, poetic soul inseparable seams, that a piece of The "color of the moon" is slightly sad and comforting.
Love is a tireless topic for poets. The poet chose "a pair of drunken men and women" by the Ganges River in India to bear the blessings of his
moonlight. The kiss of the moon, the smoke of the seal is soft, the fragrance is strong, and youth is exchanged for this moment in this life
warm and mysterious. The picturesque scene allows the poet's ideal of love to be interpreted in a certain way.
Love is deep, pain is deep. The lost love, the feeling after the loss of love equally fascinates the poet. The poet writes that a
"poet" with "a face full of melancholy", for the back of the lover's departure and sentimental disillusionment, wanting to sob and wanting to complain.
The poet's soothing
moonlight acts as a "nurse to the disappointed child".
The poet is always synonymous with life. The poet himself always gives the impression of a "fresh and lively child who never grows old" (Yu Dafu). When the moonlight sheltered and caressed the little Angel with "soft eyelashes and tender
peach-like cheeks", the poet's "heart of the child" passed by quietly beside the sleeping bed of life and future.
And for those who are y immersed in the despair and burden of life, the moonlight is "unspeakably flattering,"
just adding sorrow and indifference. In the face of the "sea-facing woodshed" in the wrinkled face of the hunchback of the crone and her knees in her sobbing
young woman, that near the Welsh deposits by the coal blackened face, sleepy miners, the poet's sympathy, the poet's peace
soothing moonlight, helplessly slipped through the tears of this can not be told.
Poet of course, can not forget to organize a "quiet quiet realm", so that his moonlight tired leaning a little rest, that is a piece of
Not hear the insects chanting, do not see the fish leaping of the pool of silence. Nature, always become the poet's soul resting place.
The omnipresent moonlight, there is a hidden, for the poet's favorite beautiful image. That is a slender
singularity, in the quiet moonlight blew out the lamp, leaning against the window, should be the poet that "tonight the moon is bright people all look forward to,
I do not know to whom the thoughts of autumn". The poet imagined that she was alone in the elegant study room, "thin". Worshipping the love of the poet,
Can not help but sigh with emotion: "Moonlight, can you bring my dream soul, placed on the magnolia branches three or five feet away from her."
This poem is like a song, "Autumn Thoughts on the Indian Ocean", word by word, bit by bit, infiltrated with the poet's world-famous
thousands of tenderness and its fragile and light temperament. Youthful men and women in love, sleeping babies, a young girl living alone in an elegant room, a lost "poet" weeping in front of the waves, a young woman with a long skirt and a sob, and a group of tired, dark, heavy, and indifferent
miners... ...In the grasp of such a number of close or distant, with the pain of the imagery, the poet's delicate sense of
Touch or wandering, or sighing and murmuring, the threads and strands are always related to a "love" word. Love intoxicated youth moment, long ago
childhood dream is certainly not to forget, and the poet's heart will never be settled in the mist, is the world of unspeakable loss and misfortune.
The "bright crystal moon", in the poet's mind can not help but light ripples of sadness, lightly stained with tears.
"Covered by the moon and feel the colors of autumn, because of the autumn window and pick a new sadness", the poet's "sadness", through the ocean on the thought of autumn. This
A kind of "sadness of the light mist", "the Ether of sadness", so that the poet can not help but feel under the long sigh of emotion: "Autumn moon ah!
Who can't stand the silver fingertips/romantic scratching huh!" It is difficult to carry this many sorrows, that the same round of the autumn moon, at first in the search for autumn
the poet's eyes that is like the appearance of "reunion and clear" bride, and to the sudden rise of autumn sorrows, but not inevitably become the color of the power of the strings, the line of the heel
hesitant to "send the mourning Lishu "The first time I've seen this, I've seen it in the past, and I've seen it in the present. The poet can not help but be perplexed by the vagaries of life: "Autumn moon ah! / I do not look forward to your
reunion." And at the end of the text, "beautiful marriage and funeral" this "disharmony", will be heavy united in the poet can not help
rising to the end of the poem.