Twilight is everywhere, the water is smokey, and some of them stir people's thoughts.
The distant mountains are like Dai, and the shadows of the buildings are enough, like a kind of nostalgia that wants to say goodbye is deep and shallow. The Shanghai hot people in "Lou Ju" are sweating all day, and the mother of Mr. Li who has been sick and coughing up blood for a long time is thinking about returning to her hometown every day, first, she is worried that she is about to die, afraid that the children are tied to such a thing as burying bones, and second, I think it is also the "falling leaves back to the roots" complex. And the gentleman was worried about his mother's illness and the cost of returning to his hometown, "not only the days, everything always occupies my heart, every day when I wake up, I always feel that I suddenly add some weight to my heart", "writing out the travel expenses" is a daily work. In order for his mother to have a place for his mother to retire, Mr. Shen yunlu and his brother Shen Yunlu funded the construction of two attics with other courtyards on the top of Tianning Mountain in Yuanling, and his brother was Mr. Big in the "Yunlu Chronicle", "He himself thought that the most proud thing was that he once ran to Qingdao in the same style six years ago,...... When I arrived at home, I found the impression of a building from a large number of memory impressions. In three months, he designed it himself, supervised the work himself, and a small number of them also adjusted the ash stone by themselves. In the open space next to the original small building, a building with half of the central and half west was created... But in the end, the mother could not see the building, but the love of the children would always be with her.
I have not been to Yunlu, I can only feel such a somewhat legendary building from Mr. Yunlu's text, Lin Huiyin, Liang Sicheng, Jin Yuelin, Wen Yiduo and other well-known people have lived in Yunlu, I can only think of the quiet elegance and the kindness of the owner at that time. I have only read some of Mr. Sir's books, shallow taste, seemingly ordinary stories and plain language, containing the beautiful and simple emotions of the world, and the fresh context seems to reveal the tragic consciousness of life.
In "A Legendary Story", he said: The main work I have to complete is to describe the love and sorrow of ordinary people in ten waterside cities. How much he loved the cities and ordinary people by the water, and the reality concluded was, "All I want is to work hard for another twenty or thirty years, and after completing the process of learning to use the pen, I have the opportunity to get real freedom in writing." When writing becomes a tool for a living at a certain time, the soul and mind are controlled and bound, and in one speech the gentleman said, "I regard writing as a bundle of grass, a broken shipboard, as if I used it to prepare for my sinking." "Such obscurity and helplessness make people faintly painful, behind this pain, have we missed a lot of more wonderful and brilliant chapters? How much of the words that are now flooded can be said to be writing, but at least it is free and joyful, which is the spiritual world that Mr. Wang longs for, right? "Shen Congwen Re" boiled in time with the ancient city of Phoenix, just like the endless crowd in front of me, I don't know how many people are like me, admiring Mr. Fame, coming in love with the scenery of the ancient city, in fact, how many people have really entered Mr. Feng's inner world, if so, the loneliness and loneliness hidden in this landscape is also a kind of pain. When I was quiet, the lights had lit up the night, and the plain face of the day was a little enchanting at night, and the ancient city seemed to have entered another mode of life.
Occasionally there is the sound of paddles rocking boats, passing through the stilts and lights in the water, are the moods carried on those boats the same as mine, as still as the water in the dim lights? The music and song on the stilt floor drifted from a distance and fell on the water, but it was strangely quiet, remembering the story of the stall in the woods in the woods with a lark-like voice to sing to Cuicui's home for a night, the water surface of the creek should be flooded with waves that have never been seen before, and the lonely Cuicui, will it wait for such a night...
Walking and stopping, my mind fell into the ancient city, but I didn't know what to do, and I went deeper. The night is dustless, the moon is as silver, and standing on the rainbow bridge, I seem to be in a trance and awake.