Text 丨 Yang Wanmei
Anchor 丨 Jiangnan Golden Cicada
Often in an ethereal and long guqin sound, the soul is lost.
The heart is as gentle as a cloud feather, and there is a small bridge with blue water to leave a fragrance.
Listening and listening, I just want to go into an empty mountain and thus complete the practice of a lifetime.
The most joyful spring, empty flowers blooming, waiting for a flower to slowly sprout from the old and thin dead branches, slow to close the eyes, you can also hear the sound of the young buds waking up, until the empty valley, split into a grand flower, the water is busy calling for the distant mountains, the paddy fields are full of egrets, and the apricot blossoms in the window eaves are red and white.
Let the grass seeds lying on the side of the road occupy the daily must-walk paths, from the purple mother-in-law to the cordyceps that light up a river of spring water. On days when the warm breeze sways, you can also wear green shoes, tie your hair high, carry a basket on your back, pull up your sleeves, and pick herbs.
Start from the grass and trees around you and re-understand the world. Each kind of grass and tree is a poem in the Book of Poetry, and some even appear earlier than the Book of Poetry.
At night, idle knocking on chess pieces to drop the lights and flowers. If you happen to come, I invite you to cut the lanterns and flowers together, and watch a bouquet of flames beat their own thick emotions, open the buds, and shed tears.
In the haze of light and shadow, your eyebrows are full of wind, and I am pure and happy.
Living in the mountains, there is a lot of time, carving such a quiet day into a moving picture, and then hanging on the eaves.
Since then, the painting has become a skylight. When the sun is shining, there are deep and lofty blue skies in the painting, birds soaring freely, wisps of light, and when you pick up the steps, you can walk back to the depths of time and see a flower event.
On the occasion of the winding moon, any touch of moonlight opens the wooden window, and the moonlight is like snow covering the road when you come, so I cover up the firewood, hold the scroll by the fire and read it, and the silence will be old.
I know that no matter how cold the night is, you will definitely come, just like the midwinter of many years ago, the snowflakes have fallen to the snowy mountains, pushing the door, the moonlight of Naxi is flowing quietly, and the honeysuckle flowers are also blooming warmly.
Even if you can't come and quietly watch the light of a beam of lanterns and grasses fall on white rice paper, like the sound of horses' hooves all the way, crossing the blockade line of time and space, writing poems with lamps, falling full of wind sounds, and ringing bells on snowy nights, it is common.
Between morning and dusk, a river of smoke and rain is greeted, like ink, which pollutes the entire valley. Standing with an umbrella, people also seem to have become a lotus in the south of the smoke and rain, surrounded by milk fish, birdsong is often accompanied.
Listening to the rain, it is as if falling into a green mountain stream, plucking the strings of the stream when braking, singing a gentle and humorous song, which contains the smoke and rain on the painter's paper, and the smoke from the poet's pen.
Walking in to see, everywhere is a small bridge flowing water tea house, the rain is not urgent, as if to slowly fall for a thousand years, the moss on the path, crazy growth into a Shang Zhou madness of madness, passing by the woman, pick a touch, you can dye the thought of a lifetime, never forget.
Bowing your head, you walk on this stone bridge like a cluster of red plums blooming on the brilliant snowy field. Linxi, a lamp of white tea, just forget the hustle and bustle of the world, slowly wait for the wind and rain to wait for you.
On the road of life, from beginning to end, I am walking alone. Don't go to the place where the noise is boiling, just go deep into the peach forest.
Listen to the fall of pine nuts on the empty mountain, feel the weather late in autumn, and see the spring stone upstream. Similarly, only the forest wind, the full boat snow, the half-court moon, the geese in the air, the riverside grass, know that you are as long and beautiful as Meixi.
Wang Xiaobo once said:
I did not come into this world to reproduce, but to see how the flowers bloomed and how the water flowed. How the sun rises and when the sun sets.
I live in the world, nothing more than to understand some truths, to encounter some interesting things, life is an accident, I look for cause and effect in it.
True, life is supposed to be like this. You can let the thoughts of nothingness fill the huts, as long as the smoke of cooking. Let the breeze fall on the fence, bring everything, and sing the most primitive songs, and you can also follow along.
Then, as an ancient poetry collector, one by one, one by one, recorded, in the cold weather, one by one into the envelope, please fall flowers as a postman, with a person's mountain and water length as a postmark, riding a horse, you can fill his 108,000 dreams.
The wind is shining through the moon, and the stars are sparsely leafy. In the middle of the night, the mountains are lonely, and listen to the bamboo leaves falling.
And at this time, all things are silent with you, which is the best practice.
The hustle and bustle of the world is like a torrent, enough to drown a flower bed that a person has painstakingly woven. Lao Tzu also warned the world that "the five colors are blinding; the five tones are deaf; the five tastes are refreshing; and the hunting is maddening." ”
What can be done is to carry a grain of flower seeds from ancient times between heaven and earth, a guqin, a book, slowly walk on the creek path, and then let it sprout in the sky and mountains, with the most authentic appearance of life, return to simplicity and quiet beauty, leaving a gap of poetry.
Sounds good
Source: Anbanlr (ID: anbanlr).
Author: Yang Wanmei, a poem and a flower, a person and a text, a time, willing to return to nature, grateful for the beauty of all things.
Anchor: Jiangnan Golden Cicada, treat each other sincerely, read with true voice, perfect masterpiece, true feelings.
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