#一代文豪茅盾先生的故乡, Wuzhen (II) #站在乌镇的街头, as if walking into history at once. The bluestone paved laneways reveal a kind of vicissitudes, on both sides

#一代文豪茅盾先生的故乡 - Wuzhen (II) #

Standing on the streets of Wuzhen, it is as if you have walked into history. The bluestone paved laneways reveal a kind of vicissitudes, and on both sides are old houses with wooden structures. In wuzhen Xizha neighborhood, you can't see a cement road, all the streets and alleys are paved with bricks and stones, walking on the bluestone slabs that have been polished by the years, you seem to be in dialogue with the long history. The streets of Xizha are long, and there are many lanes, seven turns and eight turns, like a labyrinth. When you are tired of walking, sitting in a teahouse on the street, the feeling is even more interesting.

There are many celebrities in Wuzhen, and Mr. Mao Dun is the first. The former residence of Mao Dun is composed of two parts, one is Lizhi Academy, and the other is the former residence. Mao Dun was an outstanding writer, literary theorist, literary translator in the history of modern literature on the mainland, and the first minister of culture of New China. Mao Dun was born in Wuzhen in 1896, his original name was Shen Dehong, the character Yan Bing, and made outstanding contributions to the prosperity of modern literature in the mainland. In his novels such as "Midnight", "Lin JiaPuzi", "Polyamorous Relationship", "Frost Leaves Red Like February Flowers", "Spring Silkworm", "Autumn Harvest", "Residual Winter" and so on, we can all see the shadow of Wuzhen, read the dialect of Wuzhen, and smell the breath of Wuzhen.

Standing on the small bridge in Wuzhen, I found in a leisurely way that in the dust of the years, few people could guard the mulberry field and become a sea. In the world and the world, people, gathered and gathered, disperse; things, when they look at them, fade; love, attachment, is broken. The changes in the vicissitudes of the sea and the mulberry fields seem to be only a moment in Wuzhen, and the years have been precipitated for this, and time has stayed here. Looking at the small river under the bridge, with the flowing water to wash away the troubles in your heart, wash away the lead of life, look up to feel the oncoming breeze, and accompany the willows to blow through the years that will not look back.