Fan look it. The moon is gradually rising, outside the wall of the road, the children's laughter, has been inaudible; wife in the house, patting the leap, humming in a daze sleep song. I quietly put on my overshirt and took the door with me and went out. Along the lotus pond was a winding little coal-chip road. This is a secluded road; few people walk in the daytime, and it is even lonelier at night. Around the pond, there were many trees, luxuriant and lush. On one side of the road were some willows and some trees whose names were unknown. On nights when there is no moonlight, the road is eerie and a bit scary. Tonight is good, although the moonlight is still pale. I was the only one on the road, pacing (duó) with my hands behind my back. This piece of heaven and earth seems to be mine; it's like I've gone beyond my usual self to another world. I love to be lively and calm, to live in a group and to be alone. Like tonight, alone under the pale moon, I can think of anything, I can think of nothing, and I feel free. The things I must do and say in the daytime can now be ignored. This is the wonderful thing about being alone, I'll just take advantage of this boundless lotus scent and moonlight. On top of the curved lotus pond, there are fields of leaves. The leaves are very high out of the water, like the skirt of a dancer. Layers of leaves in the middle, sporadically dotted with some white flowers, there are curly (niǎo, nuó) open, there are shyly dozen; as a grain of pearl, such as the stars in the blue sky, such as just out of the bath of the beauty. The breeze, sending a wisp of fragrance, as if the distant high building of a faint song. At this time the leaves and flowers also have a tremor, like lightning, all of a sudden spread across the lotus pond over there. The leaves are shoulder to shoulder and close together, which is like a condensed blue wave mark. Underneath the leaves is a vein (mò) of running water, covered, can not see some color; but the leaves are more to see the style. Moonlight, like running water, quietly cascaded over this leaf and flower. A thin green mist floated up in the lotus pond. The leaves and flowers seemed as if they had been washed in buttermilk; they were also like dreams covered with a light veil. Although it was a full moon, there was a light layer of clouds in the sky, so that it did not shine aloud; but I thought that this was just the right thing to do - a sound sleep was indispensable, but a nap also had a special flavor. The moonlight was shining through the trees, and the bushes on the heights were covered with mottled black shadows, as ghostly as the cliffs; and the sparse shadows of the curved willows looked like they had been painted on the lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond was not uniform; but the light and shadow had a harmonious melody, like the famous song played on the violin. On all sides of the lotus pond, near and far, high and low are trees, and willows are the most numerous. These trees surrounded the pond heavily; only on the side of the path, there were a few gaps, as if specially left for the moonlight. The color of the trees was always gloomy, and at first glance it looked like a cloud of smoke; but the gracefulness of the willows could be discerned even in the smoke. On the top of the trees is a band of distant mountains, only a little careless. In the cracks of the trees are also leaking one or two points of street light, listless, is thirsty sleeper's eyes. The most lively at this time of year is the sound of cicadas in the trees and frogs in the water; but the lively is theirs, I have nothing. Suddenly, I remembered the lotus picking. Lotus picking is an old custom in Jiangnan, which seems to have existed a long time ago and flourished during the Six Dynasties; you can roughly know it from the poems. Lotus picking is a young woman, they are swinging a boat, singing a colorful song to go. It goes without saying that there were many lotus pickers, and there were also people who watched the picking. It was a lively season and a season of flirtation. Liang Yuan Di "picking lotus fugue" said well: so the demon child Yuan (yuàn) female, swinging boat heart; 鷁 (yì) head back, and pass the feather cup; Zhao (zhào) will be moved and algae hanging, the boat wants to move and ping open. The slender waist of the bunch of vegetative, delayed GuBu; the beginning of summer and spring, the leaves tender flowers, afraid of staining the clothes and smile, afraid of dumping the boat and converge train (jū). Visible at that time to play the light of the scene. This is really interesting, but it is a pity that we have long been unable to enjoy it now. Then I remembered the lines from "Xizhou Qu": "The lotus is picked in Nantang in the fall, and the lotus is over one's head; the lotus is as clear as water when one looks down to get the lotus seed. Tonight, if there are lotus pickers, the lotus here is also considered "over the head"; only not see the shadow of some running water, is not. This makes me miss Jiangnan in the end. --Thinking like this, I looked up and realized that I was already in front of my own door; I gently pushed the door in, and there was no sound, my wife had been asleep for a long time. July 1927, Beijing Qinghua Park.
Works Appreciation
Moonlight in a Lotus Pond is a famous piece of modern lyrical prose. Through the delicate portrayal of "Moonlight in a Lotus Pond", it expresses the author's complex thoughts and feelings of dissatisfaction with the reality, desire for freedom, and inability to escape from the reality, leaving us the footprints of the upright intellectuals in old China who wandered in the midst of the suffering. The "bathing beauty" in Moonlight in a Lotus Pond is obviously not in line with "that era, lesbians, not to mention bathing, is to show their navels are subject to criticism." In the textbook, Zhu Ziqing wrote "Moonlight in a Lotus Pond", the white flowers dotted between the lotus leaves as a metaphor for "just out of the bath of the beauty", picking the lotus maiden boat out of the lake, the original is not "carrying songs and dances", but singing a beautiful song to go, the song sings: the demon child women, swinging the boat! Heart Xu ...... - These mildly "pornographic" details were once cut out. But now the textbook has restored its original content. First of all, the author's thoughts change: not quiet to seek quiet to get quiet to out of quiet, back to reality, above reality. With a light sadness out of the house, while the moonlight out of the distraction, along the quiet path all the way, naturally came to the day after day by the lotus pond, a go to see the lotus pond under the moon. The lotus pond under the moonlight is so beautiful, than the daytime and have a different style. Lotus leaves are pavilion such as the skirt of the dancer, you can imagine that the lotus leaves dance with the wind when the wonderful posture of the graceful; and dotted with white lotus, can not help but remind people of her "out of the silt and not stained," the characteristics of the lotus. Lotus flowers and different forms: "there are curly open, there are shyly dozen; as a grain of pearl, and as the stars in the blue sky, and as just out of the bath of beauty. The use of "curly, shy" two words, in the eyes of the author of the lotus is already a fairy in general. The author with meticulous brushwork and wonderful metaphor, the shape of the lotus leaves, lotus qualifications for some fascinating portrayal of the lotus, lotus leaves, the beautiful image seems to have been shown in front of us. This is not the most beautiful, a "breeze" makes this extremely beautiful lotus picture move: "The breeze passes by, sending a wisp of fragrance, as if the distant high building remote singing. At this time, the leaves and flowers also have a slight tremor, like a flash of lightning, suddenly spread across the lotus pond over there. The leaves are shoulder to shoulder and close together, which is like a condensed blue wave mark. Underneath the leaves was a vein of running water, which covered and could not be seen in some colors: the leaves, however, were more graceful." All of a sudden, the lotus fragrance like a song, seemingly, flowers and leaves trembling, flowing waves overflowing color, leaves, flowers, shape, color, taste all in one. People are also in the breeze in the lotus pond intoxicated in the beauty of the whole body. And this does not seem to be extreme enough! And then look at the moonlight on the pond: "moonlight like running water, quietly cascading in this leaf and flower. A thin green mist floats up in the lotus pond. The leaves and flowers seem as if they had been washed in buttermilk; and like dreams enveloped in a light veil." The flowing water under the leaves was covered by the dense foliage and could not be seen, while the moonlight on the leaves "like flowing water" was "quietly cascading". See the sense of flow of moonlight; "thin green mist floating in the lotus pond", a "floating" word highlights the mist of the light and hazy. Leaves and flowers in the mist shrouded, misty, as if washed in buttermilk, like a dream. The color of the moon is misty and soft, the mist is light and floating, the lotus pond under the moon is really like a fairyland! Full moon and a light cloud, giving people the feeling of "nap" in general, as the author's state of mind at this time, but it is just right. The author here unintentionally revealed a light joy. "The sparse shadows of the curved willows look like paintings on the lotus leaves." The willow's shadow is not "cast" on the lotus leaves, the author used a "painting", as if a master painter was splashing ink and waving a brush, carefully depicting the general, so that the shadow cast on the lotus leaves is pertinent and natural, beautiful and realistic, and full of interest. "Light and shadow have a harmonious melody, such as the famous song played on Van Shui Ling." The moonlight is light, black and white light and shadow is like a harmonious melody, the fragrance of the lotus, water and milk, the author of such a delicate and subtle feeling is really mesmerizing! This beautiful scenery can make the author forget his own sorrow, right? But "the bustle is theirs, I have nothing." The author is still unable to get rid of a wisp of sadness, light sadness and light joy intertwined with each other, to the beautiful moonlight lotus pond with a hazy veil, quiet and elegant, quiet and soft, hazy and harmonious, the lotus pond and the moonlight into one! Reading Mr. Zhu's "Moonlight in a Lotus Pond", it is like being in a lotus pond in general, as if walking on the path is their own. The pavilion green lotus leaves, the graceful lotus flowers, moonlight, misty lotus pond will be displayed in front of you. A true words to write a true scene "Moonlight in a Lotus Pond" describes what scenery? The title of the text is marked to understand: one is the lotus pond, one is the color of the moon. In generations of poetry and writing a lot of lotus pond, write more moonlight. But this paper's "lotus pond", "moonlight" is absolutely different from other "lotus pond", "moonlight". The lotus pond here will not be "endless blue lotus leaves in the sky, reflecting the sun lotus flowers of different red"; the moonlight here can not be "Jade House curtains can not be rolled away, pounding clothes on the anvil whisk still come". The lotus pond here is "the lotus pond under the moon", and the moonlight here is "the moonlight of the lotus pond". It is because the work distinctly highlights the characteristics of the scenery, vividly and truly reproduced in a particular environment under a particular scene, the article to express the sincere feelings have a reliable support, only to let the reader feel real affinity. First look at the description of the lotus leaves: "The leaves are very high out of the water, like the skirts of the dancers in the pavilion." If we put aside the specific environment, with "green jade disk" to the metaphor of the lotus leaves? Of course, and the expressive power is quite strong. This description not only painted the color of the lotus leaves, but also expressed the quality of the lotus leaves, but also describe the shape of the lotus leaves. However, this metaphor can only be in the sunset, sunset, or drizzle, never in the light in the moonlight. Night does not recognize the color, it is more difficult to identify the quality of the lotus leaves seen in the moonlight, mainly its natural spreading form, very similar to the skirt, but also gives the leaves a dynamic beauty. Write lotus, the original even used three metaphors: "layers of leaves in the middle, sporadically dotted with some white flowers, there are curly open, there are shyly dozen; just as a grain of pearl, and as the stars in the blue sky, and as just out of the bath of the beauty." The lotus flower is delicate and gorgeous, and can be compared to a beauty. The Song Dynasty poet Yang Chengli's poem "Lotus Flower" has the sentence "Just like the Han Palace of 3,000 women, half of the thick makeup and half of the light makeup". Hazy moonlight to see the lotus as a beauty, and is just out of the bath, the sense of haze is appropriate. On the contrary, if not in the hazy moonlight, and the lotus flowers compared to the "pearl" and "stars" is also a bit far-fetched. The article describes the fragrance of the lotus: "the breeze, send wisps of fragrance, as if far away on a high building, like a faint song." This kind of intermittent, seemingly absent feeling will never be produced in the morning of the sound of books, will not be produced in the sunshine at noon, can only be produced in the "wall of the road on the children's laughter, have not heard," the silent moonlit night. Let's look at another sentence about the scent of flowers: "Here, in addition to the luster, there is a faint fragrance, and the aroma seems to be mauve, too, and dreamily gently envelops me." ("Wisteria Falls") This is the scent of flowers in the bright sunshine, purple flowers are "teasing each other with the sunshine", full of dazzling purple stimulate the author to give birth to the "aroma is also lavender" such a feeling seems very natural. Only one sentence directly describes the moonlight, this article is mostly to write the moon in shadow, which is also praised by generations of writers performance techniques. "The high clumps of shrubs, falling unevenly mottled black shadows; the curved willow's shadow, but like a painting on the lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond was uneven; but light and shadow had a harmonious melody, like the famous song played on the Van Alen." The dark shadows here are jagged and mottled, giving a sense of swaying and undulating movement. Why? Because it falls in the lotus pond. Lotus pond "breeze over the ...... leaves and flowers also have a tremor, like lightning, suddenly passed over the lotus pond over there, the leaves are shoulder-to-shoulder densely next to each other, it will be like a condensation of blue wave marks." The black shadow falls on the wave mark above, of course, more obvious differences and mottled. It is also because the pond is in this dynamic, willow shadow is like "painting" rather than "print" on the lotus leaves. It is also because of that condensation of the blue wave marks, light and shadow is now a quintet of curves, reminiscent of "Van Alen on the famous song played".
Plum Yu Qiuyu
One
People are really strange, snail room, full of mind is a thousand miles of reverie, and when I write around the famous mountains and rivers travelogue, but often there are often some static in front of the small point of vagueness, perhaps a chance encounter with an old man, or maybe it is always parked next to me to catch up and can not be removed by a bird, or maybe it is a haystack that I dozed off once. Maybe it's a haystack that made me doze off once. Sometimes it may not be the journey, but wherever you go will surface the memory of the highlights, a flash of flash, so that the fluttering line of life dropped a few stitches.
Yes, if life is a line that passes by, then what remains valuable can only be some points.
Omit those long, withered threads, and remember only those few points, which are really rich enough.
For this reason, I'm going to make an exception in my travels by focusing on one flower. It is a waxflower, located not far from a hospital in the western suburbs of Shanghai.
It is a quiet point of light in my busy schedule that is often bright in the heart.
Two
The footsteps of the people again toe will be sick, live in the hospital for a fulfillment may be the biggest psychological contrast of a thing. To have no physical strength, to have no space, waiting in the constraints and helplessness, I do not know when I can step out of the next station in life.
It seems that heaven rewards and penalizes hard work. Your usual footsteps are too sprightly, so drive to this small courtyard to stop for some time, one by one. Whether you like it or not, get used to it or not.
The hospital where I stayed that time was the private residence of a rich foreign businessman, and there were many trees in the yard, but unfortunately it was winter and they were all withered. Used to seeing the landscape on weekdays, both eyes are all hungry, all day long in the bushes to find green. However, to see only the earth brown interlaced, just a cluster of the same style of wardrobe in repeated circles, the more you look at the heart the more annoyed. Patients occasionally stop to talk a few words, three sentences do not leave the disease, out of politeness and do not dare to ask each other more questions. Only two patients were talking and laughing loudly every chance they got, and the nurse said that they were terminally ill. Their cheerfulness was respected, but everyone knew that it was supported by a very hard spirit. Their laughter was seldom listened to because people couldn't muster so much as a comforting response, a forced laugh. Often a nurse accompanied them on their walks, and people watched their backs from afar.
Patients like to go to bed early and get up early, and at dawn, the courtyard is already crowded with people. Everyone rushed there to take a deep breath and move their hands and feet, fearing that the day will dawn, see the bare branches and leaves and sickly face. Just this time, everything will wake up yet to wake up, the air is cold and refreshing, open mouth and open nose, grab a corner of the shadow of the morning.
Day after day, so passed. Suddenly there was this morning, we all feel that the air is always a little strange, alarmed look around, found that a corner of the yard has been clustered with a group of people. Hurriedly walked over, tiptoe look, the crowd is in the middle of a plum, light morning sunlight reflecting the tender yellow petals have just grown. Walked into the past people are still in the mouth chanting its name, once it came to its side, no longer make a sound, a kind of elegant light clean fragrance has been everyone all deterred. Deliberately inhaling breath to smell, smell nothing, not smell when the nose is full of, all of a sudden dyed through the body and mind.
Flower, just a freshly bloomed flower, but here, is the desert camel's bell, is the desert mountain gazebo, is a long drought see rain, is a long rain clearing. The patients watched for a while, slowly sidestepped, gave way to the crowded people behind, paced around the yard twice, and stopped here, waiting patiently behind the crowd. From then on, the hospital walk, all into a circle and a circle to the center of the arc of the waxberry.
Three
Hospitalized patients are more or less a little nervous. Heaven and earth is small, fragile body and mind, want to live with what happened how to exclude the legacy can not be. I heard people say, many hospitalized patients will have a little emotional involvement with the warm and pretty nurses, which can not be blamed entirely on the patients play, but a natural projection of a fragile state of mind. When they are discharged from the hospital and their bodies and minds return to normal, it all goes out the window.
Now, all the patients' emotions are projected on Lamei, with a kind of supernatural obsession. Two of my fellow patients woke up early in the morning and said they smelled the aroma of the plums, one even said he was woken up by the aroma, and in fact our ward is not close to the plums, at least 40 to 50 meters away.
It seems to me that the plum can really stand up to the obsession of the patients. All kinds of trees and branches in it around the side of the give way, it stood in a big way in a clearing, so that people can see its full posture. Branches and trunks gnarled pale, black wrapped with the wrinkles of the years, just look at the branches and trunks, as if long dead, only here to stretch out a pathos of the history of the shape. It is difficult to imagine, in such a branch at the top of the trunk, and violently sprung up so many vivid life. Petals yellow without a trace of turbidity, light without texture, only pieces of color, timid and transparent. The whole yard no longer have other colors, as if the leaves fall branches yellow fall in the fall, the sky and the cold ground in the winter, all for this plum paved. Plum petals in the cold wind slightly trembling, this trembling can be the whole sky blue sky shaking. Sick people no longer loathe winter, in front of the plum, everyone understands, under the sky of the most colorful and fragrant, can only be accompanied by the cold. The concept of aesthetics here is reduced to one word: cold eyes.
It adds a few more every day, and so counting the blossoms and buds becomes a major event in all wards. Arguments were frequent, and when they couldn't be settled they went together to the branches of the flower and counted them carefully. This sometimes happened at night, and the patients would even get up and bury their heads in the branches of the flowers under the cold moonlight. Lapis lazuli under the moonlight is particularly holy, surrounded by darkness, only the crystalline petals and the moon remote opposite. The only thing that I can say is that I'm not sure what I'm talking about, but I'm sure that I'm not sure what I'm talking about.
One morning up, the weather is very cold, push the window to see, snow, the whole yard a silver. Lapis lazuli became more eye-catching, curly and elegantly stood, by the silver and white world baked into the immortal style of the Taoist bones, the air of luck. Several young patients want to brave the snow to rush to watch, was stopped by the nurses. Nurses whispered, are patients, which can withstand this kind of wind and cold? Still not fast back!
Standing on the ground floor porch and the second floor balcony of the patients, are tenderly looking at the plum. Some said that such a heavy snow must have knocked down a number of petals; some disagreed, saying that the snow would only push open more buds. This argument finally moved a nurse, she volunteered to brave the snow to count. The nurse was young and slim, and just as she stepped out, her white dress melted into the snow. She walked lightly to the front of the plums, stroked her hair, then lowered her head and tilted her head to count up. She must have learned to dance a little, counting flowers in a figure reminiscent of the "Heavenly Maiden Scattering Flowers". Finally, she straightened up and smiled slightly at the building, and reported a number to the snow, causing all the patients upstairs and downstairs to cheer. The number proved that, after enduring a night of heavy snowfall, the plums had instead gained many more blossoms and had not withered.
At the end of the month, the hospital asked patients to select the best nurses, and the nurse who braved the snow to count the flowers got a unanimous vote.
In a few days, it suddenly rained heavily, Shanghai's winter is generally not so heavy rain, all the patients and all of a sudden crowded to the gable, in front of the balcony. Anyone who understands, our plum this time really suffered. A few sharp-eyed, clearly have seen the flower branches underground pieces of petals. Rain is getting bigger and bigger, some petals have been washed to the eaves, the sick people look up at the sky with a sad face, sound sighs of regret. Just then, a clear voice rang in the ear: "I'll go set up the umbrella!"
This is the voice of another nurse, the nurse who braved the snow to count the plums did not work today. This nurse, although her figure is long and happy, is still a bit childish, with a red silk umbrella in her hand and her eyes turning around. People looked at her as if she were a savior, and forgot to thank her. One patient suddenly stopped her, saying that the red umbrella is too harsh and does not go well with the plums. The nurse pouted and smiled, turned back to her office work and brought out a yellow silk umbrella. There was another objection among the patients, saying that yellow on yellow would cover up the waxberry. Good thing the nurses use umbrellas in a wide range of colors, the best finally picked out a purple silk umbrella.
The nurse, wearing cream-colored rain boots, came to the flowers with the purple umbrella and took a piece of string to tie the umbrella to a branch. When she had finished tying it, another nurse went forward with the umbrella to meet her, and the two girls returned with their arms around each other's shoulders.
Four
Spring came, and the waxberry finally withered. The patients were discharged from the hospital in batches, and before they were discharged, they all went to the plum tree to look at it for a while.
All the trees were sprouting green buds, the grass on the ground was beginning to shake, and the patients' faces and eyes were brightening. Soon many of the flowers here would be opening, and bees and butterflies would be coming in through the walls.
The hardest part of the ward is the winter, and in winter we have had a waxberry.
This time, the plum shriveled up and shied away, mottled and old, like a dead branch.
Several patients are betting: "This winter, I'm going to die to break in and see the plums again!"
The nurse said, "You won't be back. And we don't want healthy people to come and fool around. It's proper to be healthy and hurry. This waxberry, it only blooms for the sick."
Said the nurse, blushing slightly.