The Complete Works of Xu Zhimo's Classical Prose

Chapter 2 Catching Duckweed on the Edge of Autumn Dream (1)
Qiu Si in the Indian Ocean

Mid-Autumn Festival last night.At dusk, a large curtain of mica screen was hung in the western sky, which covered the light tide of the setting sun, integrated the sea and sky into a dark blue, and was as silent as a black-clothed nun praying silently in front of the holy seat.After a while, I heard weeping on the stern cloth tent, the low-pressure clouds interspersed with the fascinating rain color, forcing the sea line to be as narrow as a lake, and the black shadows along the edge could not tell whether it was a mountain or a cloud, but weeping The traces of it are all over the air and water.

It's autumn again!The sound of the rain was in a hurry, with a sense of desolation and a gloomy atmosphere, just whispered in my soul's ear: "Autumn!" My originally unhappy state of mind could not resist such gentle infiltration , It also opens up the autumn thoughts accumulated in spring and summer, combined with the external resentment at this time, and produces a weak baby "sorrow".

It was already dark and the rain had stopped.But the clouds that had just been weeping were still loosely covering the sky, revealing only some pale twilight, which foretells that the bright moon is already fully dressed and waiting for the opening ceremony.At the same time, the smoke from the ship is puffing and puffing, forming a long bridge with python scales, directly connected to the end of the western sky, and contrasting with the first-class emerald green waves and white foam from the ship, nostalgic for the traces of the west.

In the gap between the clouds in the northern sky, a bright emerald star eagerly came to inquire about the news first, like a maidservant of a newly married daughter-in-law, and she was also dressed brilliantly.But the bride is still not out.

When I was young, every Mid-Autumn Festival night, I sat outside the building window and waited to watch the "Moonlight".If there are clouds and mist in the sky, I will worry about the "bright moon".If I see the scale-like clouds, my heart will be happy, and I pray silently for the moon to bloom soon, because I often hear people say that as long as there are "corrugated" clouds, there will be moonlight; but before the moonlight shines, My mother has already forced me to go to bed, so Yuehua is just an unrealized imagination in my mind until now.

Now the sky is full of corrugated clouds, which suddenly aroused many interesting memories of my early years, but my pure childlike innocence is gone now!
Moonlight has a mysterious gravity.She can make the sea waves roar, she can make the sorrow tide.The breath under the moon can gather into mountains, and the tears of love under the moon can cultivate hundreds of mu of orchids and thousands of stems of Zilin.I suspect that sadness is an innate inheritance of human beings. Otherwise, why would we sometimes weep sadly in the face of the brilliance of the brilliance during the years when we did not know how to feel sadness?
But I didn't cry tonight.It's not that there are no tears to shed, nor is it that civilized education has purged my purest instincts, but it's because I feel the divine sorrow that arouses my curiosity of understanding, and I want to learn from Chigut Baiden to dissect this mysterious "eye" Cold and tired".Cold intelligence is always the enemy of hot emotion.They are incompatible.

But on such a romantic moonlit night, it seems unreasonable to come to practice cold analysis, so I changed my mind and repeated my sharp intelligence, let the intoxicated tears flow naturally, and listened to what music he produced, so that The lingering poetic soul wanders back to see what dreams he finds.

The bright moon was in the middle of the cloud rock, surrounded by a circle of yellow halos, and bursts of light mist were pulled in front of her.The hundreds of undulating silver grooves on the sea are all chirping with sad syllables, and the wave field that is not cleared by the light is secretly indignant and ups and downs, not knowing whether it is resentment or admiration.

While seeing part of my emotions into the phenomena of nature, I held a pen and paper and stared at the moonlight, trying to see the traces of autumn thoughts on the ground tonight from her bright and clean radiance, and hoped that they would be in my heart. Condensed into the essence of noble emotions.Because of her bright feet, she traveled all over the world tonight, and the grievances and grievances in the world, which one did not pass through her insightful eyes?
There is a small village by the Ganges River in India. Outside the village is a lake embroidered with banyan velvet. There is a couple of intoxicated men and women. There is an ancient bronze incense burner on the grass between them, burning high-grade water. Breath, the gentle and loving smoke seal, the deep and fragrant heat, is the symbol of their love. Kissed, smiled slightly, repeatedly boarded her cloud boat, and sailed forward.

Upstairs in a courtyard, the curtains have not been lowered, and a few plump tung leaves are swaying on the glass, and the moonlight glimpses a small mosquito bed in the window. Inside the purple gauze curtain, there is an angel-like child sleeping peacefully. She leaned into her body lightly, and stroked for a while on his soft eyelashes and tender peach-like cheeks.Then she straightened his umbilical forehead hair with her silver slender fingers, smiled lightly, and went back to her sea of ​​clouds.

A disappointed poet, sitting on a stone by the river, with a gloomy expression written all over his face, the shadow of his lover flows in his chest like a river, and he cannot squeeze a little nectar from the dross of disappointment. He opened his hands, raised his head, let the merciful moonlight, who was passing by at that time, wash his swollen eye sockets with tear glands, he seemed to feel the comfort of a pure heart, immediately took out a pen, and wrote on the white skirt:

"moonlight,
You are the wet nurse of disappointed children! "

The contents of the house can be seen through the window lattice of a wood house on the sea: half a piece of bread and a few cold meats are placed on a small table, the rest of the dinner, a home Bible is open on the table in front of the window, the stove There were two burning candlesticks on the rack, weeping unceasingly, and an old woman with a crepe face sat beside her, her eyes half-closed on a weeping young woman lying on her lap, her long skirt Scattered on the floor like a big butterfly.The old woman turned her head and looked out the window, only to see the undulating waves of the sea in the distance, embracing and kissing the kindly moonlight. She sighed and whispered to the moonlight slanting on the Bible:
"I'm desperate! I'm desperate!"

She was alone in her elegant study room, with all the lights extinguished, leaning against a wicker chair by the window, the moonlight slanting down from the shoulder of the east wall, enveloping her whole body, creating a slender figure on the vase Qianying, her two braided hair tips, her slightly flattering lips, and the tall magnolia flowers standing in front of the courtyard trembled slightly in the quiet moonlight. She took her breath and exhaled a delicate fragrance, Not only the nearby flowers and plants, but even Yue'er couldn't help being intoxicated after smelling it. The natural dimples around her cheeks have not been perfect for several days: she has lost weight.But what was she thinking?Moonlight, can you take my dream soul and put it on a magnolia branch three to five feet away from her.

Near a mine in the western border of Wales, three workers sit in the moonlight, smoking heavy pipes.They have finished all the words they can think of, but this strange moonlight adds an indescribable charm to the pine forest opposite them and the stream on the left, only their tired eyes are closed, and they agree with each other Tonight they smoked two more pipes of cigarettes than usual, but their mine fires are blackened, and their faces blackened by coals, show that their hearts are weak. Apart from the pleasure pipes, although the halberd thorns of the autumn moon stream, there is no exquisite emotion. disgusted.When the moon shadow moved to the west, they silently threw out a bucket of ashes, got up and entered the room, and went to bed each.The moonlight looked in from the back of the house, and saw that they were all asleep; even if they had dreams, it was nothing more than the scenery inside and outside the mine!

The moonlight crossed the Irish Channel and climbed the peak of Halflin, facing the silent red pool.The water in the pool was frozen like a large piece of ice, iron blue in color.The slanting small peaks around are all covered with crab blue and white rock fragments, and there is not a single dwarf tree.There are some clumps of grass along the pool, and the overall situation is just like a big green bowl, which is now full of clean moonlight. It is very quiet, no insects are heard in the grass, and no fish jump in the water; only the stones are diving. The sound of the stream dripping and drizzling intermittently, as if a small fire was lit in a cathedral, contrasting more and more with the tranquility and serenity. Thinking of her Yinxie, she went over the mountain.

After the ship left Singapore yesterday, the direction changed from due east to northeast, so the stern of the ship was facing the sunset a few days ago, and since then the "Sunset Factory" has gradually moved to the left hand of our ship.

Last night, when I was on the deck after dinner, there was a sea of ​​silver waves on the right side of the ship, with a mysterious color in the sharpness, and a desolate expression, which caught my gaze.The ball emitting silver light is hanging on your head, as if you were leaning on the bow and looking up.She is not very bright tonight; her delicate and round face seems to be covered with a layer of taupe-gray tulle; there is a sad tone rippling lightly; a few tears of dew are lightly stained.She is not very bright, but in her clean and gentle light, it is like the sideways glance of a young girl's light blue eyes; like the tender color reflected by the spring sun melting on the white clouds on the top of the mountain, it contains incomprehensible fascination and coquettishness. Sensitive people, as long as they are exposed to her brilliance, they will have an incomprehensible reaction, which will cause the tension in the hidden inner realm. Like the strings of a piano, the most subtle emotions in life will vibrate the noble and precious creations contained in life. Impulse.Sometimes before or at the same time as the mental state, shake the tissues of the body, make you feel the icy flow protruding from the blood, the unstoppable sourness of the olfactory nerve, the turbulent beating inside, and the sudden heat and moistening of the lacrimal gland.That is Qiu Sichou raised by Qiuyue.

Last night's moonlight was the source of autumn thoughts, more than that, it was a symbol of sadness, sorrow, resentment and depression, the most mysterious and natural scene in the great drama of seasons, the most desolate and subtle news in the world of poetry and art.

Tonight, Yueming people are looking forward to it, and I don't know whose house Qiu Si is in.

Chinese characters have a unique charm, and the structure of several characters, in my opinion, is purely the ingenuity of the artist: this is also one of the quintessences of our country.For example, the character "Autumn" is already a very beautiful character; the character "Sorrow" is a masterpiece in the history of writing: there are stones opening the halo of the lake, and the beauty of the wind sweeping the pine needles. Seal script, Michelangelo's sculpture, Chopin's sense of spirit; like using a scientific analogy to the structure of atoms, shrinking the great force of the rotating universe into an invisible electric nucleus; the symbols created by these thirteen strokes seem to be It is the purest and most precise crystallization of the tragic phenomena and experiences of the universe and life, sighs and tears, full of the mysterious power of fascination.If you have Gautier's extraordinary perception, you can definitely dream that the word "sorrow" is transformed into a transparent jade with autumn clouds and dark green. If you lightly hit it with a silver mallet, it will spit out a silver pharynx like an electric snake. into the sky.

I am not looking at the moon for the purpose of looking for autumn, let alone looking for new sorrows; deliberate immersion in a sad life is not allowed by Dande.When I see the moon, I feel the autumn colors, and because of the autumn window, I feel new worries: people are a bunch of fragile and reflexive nerves!

I repeatedly returned to the real scene, the autumn moon lightly wrapped in the brocade, like a girl covered with veils, her reunion and clear appearance is like a bride, but at the same time, the color of her strings is lotus root gray, she hesitates His heels, the traces of weeping, make people suspect that it is Lishu who is going to mourn.So I have said:

"Qiuyue!

I don't expect you to be reunited. "

This is the characteristic of Qiuyue, whether she is the new scythe hanging by the afterglow of the setting sun, the eyebrow hook that competes with the "Dawn of the Dusk", the golden bowl in the middle of the night, the silver bed among the nebula, or even a plump round. A full Mid-Autumn Festival, regardless of whether it is full of prosperity or inferiority, is always sprinkled with what I can only call "a light mist of sorrow" and "an ether of sorrow" in the original clear and bright autumn.Even if you have no worries at first, seeing this, you can't help being contaminated with the "gray tone" and gradually become excited!

Qiuyue!

Who can resist silver fingertips
Scratch romantically!

I don't believe it, but looking at the light waves of the sea, it's not like she can't help touching her jade fingers, lingering and weeping there!that's it
boring smoke,
The beauty of the autumn moon,
The smoke warms the heart and cold eyes,
And coolly put on light onyx clothes,

come to this
Happy marriages and funerals.

october six diary
Originally published on August 1922, 12, "Morning News Supplement"

Time and Times in Italy
We often hear that the sky in Italy is different from other places: "Italy with blue sky", "Italy with bright sun" and "Italy with light".When I was not here, I often imagined the sky in Italy. Words such as haze, obscurity, fog blindness, and drowsiness are of course not applicable here. Needless to say, even rain must be as interesting as summer showers, but The charm of the sky is added before and after the rain; I think there must be many days without clouds, and there is only a blue dome above the head, and the ground is just gorgeous sunshine, which is roughly several times brighter than our winter Beijing.When there are clouds, they must be the loveliest clouds, as white as goose feathers, hanging in the blue sky, or the most colorful sunset clouds, roses, amber, agate, coral, emerald, pearls, everything; Looking at such a sky (I think) people who are worried in their hearts will definitely forget their worries, and those who were originally happy must be twice as happy...

That is the sky and the sky of Italy in the imagination, but it is always too much to hope; the most beautiful things in this world are still a few steps away from the ideal state: the sky in Italy, although better than other places, is not the same after all. "Dongtian".Remember later, don't expect too much. Fortunately, I stayed for a few more days, otherwise I was not only satisfied, but almost never very disappointed.

I dare say that the impression I made when I first entered the country must be very strong. I remember that day when I got out of the foot of the Alps, the chain of snow peaks receded straight back.Lombard's Pyongyang spread like a carpet to the horizon ahead. At that time, the sky above was indeed different from the sunshine. I couldn't tell what the difference was, except that the sky was bluer than usual, and the white clouds were whiter than usual. , the sun is brighter than usual.The traveling companion standing beside you said "Ah, this is Italy", and you blurted out "Ah, this is Italy", your heartbeat will naturally increase, your eyesight will naturally increase, and the grass in the field will naturally increase. , the trees by the roadside, and the water in the lake seem to respond to you with a smile, ah, this is Italy!

But in the first two weeks of my arrival, from Milan to Venice, via Florence to Rome, what do you say about the days of Italy, it is simply absurd!Venice has never seen the shadow of its famous sunset, Emerald is just not clear, Rome is the most shameless, it has been raining continuously for four days, April is as cold as the first month, all pleasures are ruined, and when the time comes, flee to I couldn't help cursing that day.

Originally published on August 1925, 8, "Morning News Supplement"

Claws of Paris

Cough Paris!Those who have been to Paris will never miss heaven again; those who have tasted Paris, frankly speaking, do not even want to go to hell.The whole of Paris is like a mattress of wild duck down, which makes you feel comfortable all over your body, and your hard bones are crisped by smoke, and sometimes it is too hot.That's all right, as long as you can stand it.It is superfluous to praise, as it is superfluous to praise heaven; nor is it superfluous to curse, as it is superfluous to curse hell.Paris, the soft Paris, only gently enjoins you when you leave: "Don't forget, come again!" In fact, even this is superfluous, who doesn't want to go again?Who can forget?
Vanilla is at your feet, spring breeze is on your face, and smiles are all around you.Don't restrain you, don't blame you, don't supervise you, don't embarrass you, don't annoy you, don't rub you.It holds you, but does not bind you: it is a gentle arm, not a rope.It doesn't prevent you from running away, but its teasing fingertips are always dangling in your memory.What a light step, the mercerized silk of the socks can be stained with the color of your memory at any time!
But Paris is not a monotonous comedy.The Louvre is hidden in the soft waves of the Seine River, and it also holds the last breath of many frustrated people.Flowing, gentle water waves; flowing, lingering grievances.Café: There are soft words exchanged with each other, hearty laughter, and mourning of the shaggy-haired boy sitting in the corner thinking about self-destruction.Dancing Hall: With the whirling tunes and the mellow aroma of wine, there is a young woman living alone thinking about her future.What floats on the upper layer may be light, joy, happiness, sweetness, and harmony; but what settles in the bottom and cannot be illuminated by the sun is the essence of human experience: if it is heavier, it is sorrow, if it is lighter, it is melancholy; Who doesn't want to be rippling in the brisk current forever, but pay attention to what you find when you go deep!
One day, a friend from Paris came to chat with me, and the conversation was lively, without drinking tea or smoking, from dusk to dawn, and then went to bed for a rest, and I returned to Paris as soon as I closed my eyes , the situation my friend mentioned just now vaguely entangled myself in it; this dream of Paris is really mellow, mellow your heart, mellow your will, mellow your limbs, and taste it unless you have tasted it yourself. Who can imagine!When I woke up, I was still in a daze and forgot I was there, and a child came into the room and stood beside my bed, smiling and calling me, "What dream did you have, my friend, why are your eyes wet like crying? "I stretched out my hand to touch it, and sure enough there was water in my eyes, and I couldn't help laughing. But the dream of Chaolai, a poet said, has the same sad feeling, and I don't know which dream the tears are shed for!
What is written below is not an article, it is not a novel, it is not realistic, and it is not a dream. The people I write are just casual songs, and the people in the south say "go out and don't accept the goods", it is up to your tolerant readers.

People who go out can't be too careful.There has to be something adventurous about the walkway.Most of the fun of life lies in unexpected discoveries. If all tomorrows are rigid incarnations of today, then what are we living for?Just as children go to the mountains to pick flowers, go to the beach to search for shells, nerds go to the library to find new wisdom and go out, and people go to Paris to think... Your criticism can't be too serious, can it?What do you say when you are young and mature!Growing old is the privilege and duty of the elderly; they are not willing to say it, they have to when they are old.How can young people grow old?It's strange to be old!

To put it loosely, life is just a coincidence; don't look at the smooth flow of daily life like a river, there are many undercurrents in it, and there are many whirlpools who can hide and get caught in it?That is when you are worried, when you ascend to immortality, when you discern sourness, and when you taste sweetness.

Paris is not necessarily different from other places: the difference is that the undercurrent in the current of life is stronger there, the eddy is more urgent, so you have more opportunities to get involved.

(End of this chapter)