The life of a beautiful girl is a song
A monologue that touches the hearts of millions of people
Tian Wei was born in 1986 to an ordinary family in Beijing.
She loves literature and has left a deep impression on Liang Xiaosheng in class.
Liang Xiaosheng praised her: "Tian Wei is a female student who loves Chinese. She is also a female student who is very suitable for studying Chinese. We teach Chinese, Chinese that advocates germination from the heart of good feelings. Such a heart, Tian Wei undoubtedly has. ”
"Waiting for life to pass, and I'm still here." The days are always unhurried and unhurried. ”
"The man who often looks at death in a calm manner is a remarkable person. Butterflies flew away. ”
At the age of 15, she suffered from a malignant disease called pulmonary hypertension. During her illness, she wrote, painted, photographed, and left many short song-like essays.
At the age of 21, a fairy-like girl left "half an acre of flower fields" and turned butterflies away.
Two years later, the mother wrote down the girl's true feelings about life and life in words before she died, which is "Half An Acre of Flower Fields".
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I blindfolded time and let it guess how much unfulfilled enthusiasm there was in happiness.
At noon in September, drink a glass of sweet wine with the fawn.
Peach-flavored rum, jumping on the tip of the tongue with a hot sweetness, this pink potion.
The shadow of the poplar tree, reflected on the freshly wiped floor, swayed. A day without clouds, suitable for standing on the balcony, alone and obsessively watching the afternoon.
Cheers, then look at our empty and empty bottles and smile at each other. Her face was flushed, but Tian was still pale.
The fawn went to wash her face, and I sat in the room, imagining her days, from here and there, like dreams, or boredom flowing.
Everyone's life, in the most concrete places, between the bookshelves and the bed, seems to be panicked and trivial. The empty bottle, like all containers, opened its mouth wordlessly, a little innocent.
We left the bottle, and the cap. We said that we would put a small flower in the bottle, make a necklace out of the bottle cap, and give it to Miss Rabbit.
I think of myself who used my dad's beer bottle to pick up rainwater. In that childhood, on a distant rainy day, gray clouds were still rolling in place. Children standing behind the window, waiting for the rain to fill the bottles that are arranged in the middle of the courtyard. The rain was pouring down and it was raining for an unknown amount of time. A long summer, accompanied by the smell of grass, fixed the childhood in the courtyard in this picture, like watercolor. The rain in the bottle finally spilled out of the bottle mouth. The rain of time finally flooded the atrium of my heart. The child's game, in the background of a rainy day, is like a clear cry.
I was still standing behind the window, and I was still expecting, a kind of satisfaction. It turns out that everyone will become that beer bottle, from the time you look at it, to yourself standing in the rain and fog, filled with an inch.
There was no need to record the rain, no need to remember the scattered innocence—the big black eyes reflected on the glass windows. Like a bottle, I continued to stand in the rain. Sometimes, I also look forward to drifting. Like those drift bottles.
I would, have a girl, take the young mind, the childish verses, into a letter, and put it in a bottle. I did, and she threw me into the sea. Let those snow-white waves embrace me and send me to the other side of the unknown. Maybe it's another continent, maybe it's a mysterious island. There will be strangers who find the bottle on the beach, unfold distant letters, sit on the beach and read them carefully, smiling. What a great day that would be. The wind would blow away the stranger's straw hat and fly into the clouds, into the distance, and the sky was glaring blue.
I'm the girl, I'm the drifting bottle of happiness.
Tian said, put our love into the bottle. Buried deep in the ground, then, waiting a thousand years. Like the legend in many stories.
When people find it again, our love can enter the museum and be displayed in the window, and the label reads: Bottles made by ancient people. They don't know what we're putting in it.
Those loves, if not dead, will run out like elves running out of the lamp, continuing to live and breathe. Tian was fantasizing about this time and space travel of the bottle.
Drink a glass of sweet wine and the mood turns pink.
Can be confused with nonsense.
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"Half An Acre of Flower Field"
Tian Wei/Author
Beijing October Literature and Art Publishing House
Published in January 2022
Tian Wei was born in 1986 to an ordinary family in Beijing. At the age of 15, she developed a malignant disease called pulmonary hypertension. During her illness, she wrote, painted, photographed, and left many short song-like essays. After her death, her mother sorted out her manuscripts and collected them into "Half An Acre of Flower Fields", which recorded what this flower season girl thought and realized after receiving the fateful judgment, which is the delicate and gentle inner world of a young girl who is about to die.
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Tian Wei was born in 1986 to an ordinary family in Beijing. In 2004, he was admitted to the department of Chinese of Beijing Language and Culture University. In 2007, at the end of her junior year, the illness brutally ended her flower-like life. During the confrontation with terminal illness, she wrote down her true feelings about life and life in words, which were tender and touching. In 2009, his articles were collected as "Half An Acre of Flower Fields: A Beautiful Girl's Life Song", which attracted widespread social attention.
Editor: Xu VV