Gorynya: Fifteen torches

Fifteen torches

Gao Lingya

The torch of the fifteen is long gone, it exists only in our memories, the happy times of childhood.

On the night of the fifteenth day of the first month, the moon is as big as a disk, the moonlight is bright as silver, it quietly illuminates the village and the wilderness, obsessed and lonely! It burst into laughter as it waited for the children to pick up torches on the hill.

Fifteen nights with torches, which has been a tradition in the countryside for many years. We little children look forward to it early, and the light of the fire often appears in dreams. The old brooms and old brush handles at home, we have long hidden. There were many sisters, and there were not enough seedlings and brooms, so they used wooden sticks to make their own torches, and tied old cloth and cotton wool to the sticks.

In the evening, my mood became excited, and my heart was pounding, which was not an exaggeration, and I think you must have felt it once. After a few hasty lanterns, we walked out of the house with torches. There are many friends in the village, at this time, you call me, suddenly east and west, the village becomes lively. The place where the torches were picked was in a wasteland on the east side of the village, which was a graveyard, but there were many of us, and we didn't feel afraid. Some adults also come to join in the fun and experience the joy of torches!

After the torch was lit, we played with it to the fullest, throwing it into the air again and again. Torches flew in the air, like dragons, rising and falling, sparks splashing around. Everyone exerted all their strength to compete for whose torch was thrown the highest. The torch field is very noisy and very messy. As we rolled, we shouted, "Tie the winter melon to the east, the pumpkin to the south, the watermelon to the west, and the melon to the north (we call it raw melon there)", over and over again. When the torch falls, one accidentally burns the eyebrows or hair, and everyone throws the torch and looks at the torch with their heads held high. If someone else's torch falls on oneself, everyone does not care. After each torch, our faces and hands were black, and our clothes were burned into many small holes by Mars. Anyway, the clothes are worn, and we don't care.

In a few neighboring villages, fire dragons flew, but we couldn't hear the shouts because of the distance! When we leave the torch field, we always feel sad, as if we are not finished. But soon rejoice and talk about the exciting moments of torch-picking along the way! Next year's Lantern Festival, we are looking forward to it.

The Lantern Festival passes every year, the torches are thrown every year, and the happiness is every year. I can't remember when the kids weren't keen on torches anymore. Fifteen torches in the township are gone!

Now the children are no longer aware of the fifteen torch festivals.

20220214 (written on the 14th day of the first month)

Author Profile: Gao Lingya, pen name Tiandu Feng, Anhui Dingyuan people. Senior middle school teacher, member of Dingyuan Writers Association. Editor-in-chief of the micro-journal of Tiandu Literature. Certified editor of Urban Headlines, editing columns such as poetry and prose of "Urban Headlines • Tendo Literature". "Today's Headlines" is certified as a creator in the field of high-quality culture. Certified columnist for Blog China. Editor-in-chief of The Chutian Fenghua Micro-journal, Executive Editor-in-Chief of Jianghuai Poetry, and Member of the Editorial Board of Dingyuan Literature. Editor of Jiangshan Literature Andia Xiaohe. He usually loves to write, and several poems have been published in qilu literature, Anhui poetry, Chuzhou Daily, Xinchu Weekly and other media. His works have been included in shandong poetry journals, Chinese style, twilight poetry journal, Chinese poetry endowment and other paper journals.

Dingyuan, China

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