As long as my hair reaches my waist, marry me

Chapter 14 Streaming Night Snow (2)
It's just that the scenery remains the same, and I don't see the people from last year, so I can't help crying.

Every family competes to sing "Drinking Water Ci", but no one knows what is on Nalan's mind. After 300 years of wind and rain, the crabapples in the West Garden bloomed and withered; the tourists by the Lushui Pavilion came and went.Today, the bright moon in the atrium still obliquely shines on the bright open Yehe tree back then.

For a moment, I seemed to see someone leaning against the vermilion fence, singing in a low voice: "Who wants the west wind to be cool alone? The yellow leaves are rustling and the windows are closed. Meditating on the past, the setting sun stands!"

The singing voice was sobbing, illusory and disillusioned, like the thinning moonlight; like a love that ended abruptly, it flickered before my eyes, and my heart fell into endless grief.

And put chrysanthemums all over the head

The cold flowers are exhausted, and the chrysanthemum is full of branches.

The old picking people are frequent, and the light fragrant wine is temporarily accompanied.

——Tang Du Fu "Nine Days in Yun'an"

Butterflies are flying at the head of the stream, and unknown birds are flying and stopping in the fields. Your rural childhood is dormant on the back of your mother or in the basket, and the flying shadows are constantly in front of your eyes. Hovering, like drawing that colorful time.

When the distant mountains behind turned into a touch of gloom, the daisies in the back basket grew more and more, and they began to compete with you for territory.You get restless and throw them out of the basket nastily.Mother leaned over to pick it up, and her strands of blue hair slid down from her shoulder blades, falling and fluttering gently in the wind.A few strands float across your smooth and soft cheeks, itchy, you grab them to enjoy them.The hair is thin and wet, and you can't tell whether it is the dripping sweat or the dew that has not yet melted in the morning.In the backlight of evening, they are as bright as pearls.

When you get home, your mother will use the newly picked daisies to make tea for you, saying that it can clear away heat and detoxify.Amidst the mist, blossoming petals emerged from the bottom of the cup.You took a sip, and a bitter taste entered your throat, and you spit it out all at once.Then mother adds honey or goji berries and does everything she can to get you a drink.

Swallows come and go, rapeseed flowers turn yellow and green again, and in the bitter fragrance of chrysanthemum tea, your childhood drifts away like paper kites and the sound of gongs and drums on an ancient stage.But the years grow like joints of wheat, you get restless, and you start to yearn for the other side of the mountain—that wonderful world.

In the mother's leaning on the door and staring, you stepped on the golden daisies all over the mountains and plains.The mother's figure became smaller and smaller, and you finally disappeared at the other end of the mountain resolutely.

The outside world is just opened Pandora's box.You have seen the sun and the wind and rain.You feel the indifference of human feelings and the coldness of the situation.More and more people trample over you, more and more secular things make you unable to straighten your back, you are lonely, you are helpless, you are hopeless, you are helpless, and occasionally you will be in a sleepless night , Open the rucksack, use the little daisies dried by the mother, make a cup of chrysanthemum tea from your hometown, and warm the chill in your heart in the dark.

In the neon city, you try your best and work hard.Later, you finally got your wish, got your own residence in a certain corner of the city, and started a decent life.With the confidence and freedom of a successful person, you look down at every street scene in front of you, or taste the Longjing before the rain or the Biluochun made by the palace with the expert sense of smell, and you start to feel the depth and meaning of the landscape.

However, you still feel that something is missing in your life.You rummaged through the box, and you found the little daisy that your mother entrusted someone to bring.The silver tea set, slowly stretching petals, the faint chrysanthemum fragrance lingers on the tip of the tongue, and a long-lost feeling emerges in my heart.Large tracts of daisies also begin to appear in your mind, all over the mountains and plains, laid out one by one.You start to become calm and calm, less aggressive and aggressive.

You took your mother to live in the city.Mother is always restless, tidying up the kitchen and mopping the floor. After finishing all these tasks, she starts to make chrysanthemum tea for you.The chrysanthemums are still the little daisies in my hometown, thin and one by one, like the memories condensed by the years.Mother was not used to life in the city, so she went back alone.Her back was getting more and more curved, and silver threads had already floated from her temples at some point.Before leaving, I did not forget to ask you to sit for a long time, and when you have nothing to do, you should make an extra cup of chrysanthemum tea, so as to refresh your mind and detoxify.

Finally, one day you become a mother too, or a father.You take your children across the criss-crossing city network, and go to the far suburbs to look for the plant called daisy.You look at the little daisies all over the mountains and fields, look at your hometown at the end of the sky, and stand there for a long time.

You think of the last time, when your mother heard that you had a precious son, she hurriedly took a long-distance bus for more than ten hours to see you.That time she brought a big bag of daisies, and she wanted to make chrysanthemum tea from her hometown for her grandson herself.She lifted the kettle tremblingly, but her back bent like the old jujube tree in her hometown.

The children chased heartily on the grass, like happy butterflies.They took your hand and asked strangely, mom, mom, what are you looking at.You look at them, but there are clearly tears welling up in your eyes.

Later, you got used to making a cup of chrysanthemum tea in the middle of the night, ups and downs in the past.The hot water washes down slowly, the petals stretch slowly, and the implication of the distant mountains comes roaring.Finally, you couldn't hold it back and burst into tears.

Dancing lightly
Don't listen to the sound of Lin knocking leaves, why not scream and walk slowly.Who's afraid of bamboo stick shoes lighter than horses?Ren Pingsheng was born in a misty rain.

When the spring breeze awakens, it is slightly cold, but the hilltop is shining obliquely. Looking back at the bleak place, there is no wind, rain or sunshine when I return.

——Song Su Shi "Ding Feng Bo Mo listens to the sound of passing through the forest and hitting the leaves"

The water is murmuring.The music is ethereal, and the surrounding fields are empty and silent.The stretched limbs were like stretched petals, and in an instant, they floated gently off the ground.It was as if the body no longer existed, only a vague consciousness remained, cruising in the air.

Is it the morning fog, or the late wind?My body stretched lightly in this way, without the noise of the world, everything was quiet.The petals stretch in the air, the breath is like an ancient drumbeat, slight and faint, the heart dances with the graceful music, and the bird of thought flies farther and farther.In the state of mind of yoga, my heart can always fly far and far.

At that moment, it seemed to be walking shallowly under the shade of flowers in classical poems and songs.The lotus steps move gently, and there are wonderful rhetoric below my knees.The wind flute and the sheng are moving, that is the parallel four li six of the beautiful mouth; the falling flowers are in the neck, that is the small order with long and short sentences.

I sing all the way, all the way forward.From time to time, I meet those poets who are surly and naive. That is Wang Wei who sits in meditation and recites Buddha in Nanshan; . "When the moon is full on the west building, I go up to the orchid boat alone", and the one who "only lowers her brows but caresses her heart" is the woman holding "Shu Yu Ci" in her hand.The elegant rhyme of clear words, the curl of sandalwood, wandering back in the state of yoga, my heart can always encounter a lot of beauty and grace.

Qingqing said that we are born in the world of mortals, and we are disturbed by countless worlds every day.Fame and fortune, that kind of hustle and bustle can indeed give people a kind of satisfaction of success and a reason for existence, but it can also make people lose their original clarity and simplicity, nature and peace.Some people like the joy of banquets with high friends and gatherings of cups and cups, but who ever thought of the desolation and loneliness of the end of the song, the mess of the cups and plates, and the empty buildings?You must know that "lively" is just a momentary entertainment after all, and separation is the ultimate destination of life.

Therefore, the life that grows quietly and exists silently moves me even more.I like to hold hands with you to look at the orchids in the yard, the orchids with faint, small, but unobtrusive flowers; I admire the little daisies that grow on their own by the roadside, and the ones that are busy but no one pays attention Every time I observe them carefully, my heart is filled with awe for such silently existing life.

I like the feeling of relaxing on the recliner late at night. I open a piece of Chopin's "Serenade" at random, and the melodious and melodious music flows under the night.Some pieces of music are hung on the treetops, pouring the brilliance around like a crescent moon.Some movements were sent to the ears by the night wind and floated into the heart, so the heart became peaceful and peaceful.

At this time, there happened to be the fragrance of unknown flowers and plants outside the window, faintly floating, the dark fragrance floating, and the shadow of the moon whirling. In the clarity and tranquility of the night, the whole person seemed to be immersed in a picturesque situation.This is the moment I enjoy the most, and it is also the joy and joy that music and books bring me after the busy and restless day.

Hold a copy of Thoreau's "Walden Pond" and take a walk in the garden path to experience the life of the log cabin completely integrated with nature described in the book, or read Haizi's "Facing the Sea, Spring Blossoms" ".Facing the sea and turning my back to the world, I can always find peace and tranquility in my heart.Or find the comfort of the soul in Kawabata Yasunari's "Flower Never Sleeps". A flower blooms in the long silent night. Only those who understand life with heart can see the splendor of life.An instant is eternity, and eternity is an instant. At this moment when he is in full bloom, he has achieved a journey of life without regrets.

The ancients said that the world can be seen in a drop of water.Only the silent life can breed the charm of the explosion and brew the gorgeous and dazzling light.Because I understand the bleakness and desolation behind the splendor, I know how to accumulate and cherish when I am humble.The real eternity is never a lively life, but a person with strong tension, the charm of the soul, a plain, open-minded and broad-minded person who can deeply understand the true nature of life.

I like to walk alone in the state of mind of yoga, and I like to wander in the world of imagination, because it allows me to see the true face of life when my heart leaves the body and is completely in a spiritual state. "The wind comes to sparse the bamboo, and the wind passes by without leaving a sound." Wandering in yoga and books is to be in the world of the true self, to get rid of the chaos and fetters of the world of mortals, and to dance lightly with the innocence of life.

Encounter the most beautiful love
Don't drink more red powder and tears, which leads to sorrow and drunkenness.Smiling and chanting slightly when meeting each other, provocative and lingering.

The flowers are untied and attached to the ears, and the good times are deeply remembered.The Qinghan boat is steadily embroidered with quilt fragrance, whoever forbids it to flow eastward.

——Song He Zhu's "Jade Chain"

Some people say that the most beautiful scenery is always on the road.So, in the season of warm spring and flowers blooming, I packed up my luggage and went on the road alone.Go to Fenghuang, go to the ancient city thousands of miles away, and look for the scenery in my dream.I walked all the way and wondered whether there would be many unexpected encounters and beautiful things along the way.

There are eight sceneries in Fenghuang, Dongling Yinghui, Nanhua Emerald, Qifeng Tingxiu, Xiqiao Night Moon, Longtan Fishing Fire, Vatican Pavilion Huitao, Mountain Temple Morning Bell, Lanjing Qiaosong.Before I arrived, I was eager to try and vowed to enjoy the eight scenic spots all over the place.

But after arriving, looking at the Tuojiang River, I couldn't move anymore.The Tuojiang River is gentle and tender, like a classical woman, simple and unpretentious, quiet and beautiful.On the contrary, the rapeseed flowers by the river are golden and blooming extremely brightly.Just like the Baili Gallery, it is so beautiful.Occasionally, when the wind blows, the rape blossoms dance with the wind, the waves undulate, and the green figure is reflected in the river water, with various styles.

Small boats are rippling on the river, and there are many tourists on the embankment.I walked slowly along the bank of the river, and the intermittent laughter could be heard faintly from the flower field somewhere, hidden by the blue sky and white clouds, so I didn't feel the noise.

I don't know how long I walked, but the figure of an old man beside the road attracted me.He sat alone on a folding fishing chair, with an open picture folder on his lap.His eyes wandered back and forth across a large field of rapeseed flowers in front of him, and the paintbrush in his hand didn't stop for a moment.I quietly admired the scenery by the river, and also appreciated the persistence of the old man.

In about a cup of tea, a unique sketch has been drawn.I talk to old people.From travel and painting to flower art and antiques.It turned out that the old man was an art teacher at the university, and his wife loved rapeseed very much.Every spring they come to Fenghuang to enjoy the flowers.Qingqing me, love is added.It has been going on for decades without interruption.Until his wife died the year before last.

There was no trace of sadness in the old man's tone, but in his eye sockets, I saw a wet memory.The rapeseed flowers on the drawing paper are blooming luxuriantly, but I am the only one who feels a little sad, just like all the flowers that are everywhere, they will eventually wither.I seem to have fallen into a beautiful dream, and I can only sigh for it before it is shattered.Before the old man left, he wanted to give me the painting, but I hesitated and refused to accept it.He said that spring will come again next year, and he wants to paint the scenery of spring every year.Live up to their promise back then.

I burst into tears suddenly.It turns out that the most beautiful love comes from our deepest touch.

Time is like sand between fingers overnight.No matter who you are, you will eventually grow old.The most unbearable thing for the ordinary you and me in this world is the prehistoric time.Who can meet the right person at the right time?In the love handed down from generation to generation, how many two loves last for a long time and spend the full moon.Then take advantage of the good times, do what you want to do, love who you want to love, regardless of right or wrong, regardless of the result.

The wind is blowing, the flags and banners of the ancient town are fluttering, and the mountains in the distance are continuous, like a wonderful landscape painting, presented in front of my eyes.In the verdant fleeting years, if we can't love each other passionately, then leave the warmth and touch to the person we meet.

(End of this chapter)