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Interpret the classics with sound and awaken love with reading
Welcome to Listen - "Just Love to Read"
"Just Love to Read"
This week I recommend three excellent works for you
They are
Excerpt from "The Moon is hometown Ming"
Excerpt from "Ordinary Tea Talk"
Excerpt from The Tale of a Stranger
By Xiao Yang, Wan Hui, Fang Yuan
The three moderators read aloud
Classic works
Plus great renditions
It will definitely give you a special listening experience
Reader: Xiao Yang
Host of Xiamen Comprehensive Radio
Works and authors
Works: Excerpt from "The Moon is hometown Ming"
Author: Ji Xianlin, an internationally renowned master of Orientalism. In his early years, he studied abroad, knew English, German, Sanskrit, Pali, could read Russian and French, and was especially proficient in Tocharian. His works were compiled into the Collected Works of Ji Xianlin, consisting of 24 volumes.
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Author/Ji Xianlin
Everyone has a hometown, and everyone's hometown has a moon. Everyone loves the moon in their hometown. That's about it.
However, if there is only one moon alone, it may seem a little lonely. Therefore, in ancient Chinese poetry, the moon always has something as a foil, the most is the mountain and water, what "the mountain is high and the moon is small", "the moon is printed in three pools" and so on, innumerable.
My hometown is on the Great Plains in the north-east and west of the mountains. When I was young, I had never seen a mountain, and I didn't know what a mountain was. I had fantasized that the mountain was probably a round, thick pillar, standing tall against the sky, so mighty. Later, when I arrived in Jinan, I saw the mountain and suddenly realized: The original mountain is like this! Therefore, I looked at the moon in my hometown and never had contact with the mountains. Like Su Dongpo said, "The moon comes out of the east mountain and hovers between the bulls", which is completely unimaginable to me.
As for water, my hometown village has a lot of it. A few small reed pits account for more than half of the village. In the eyes of my little child, although it cannot be as grand as the "August Lake" of Dongting Lake, it is also quite a bit of smoke and waves. In the summer, after dusk, I lay on the ground in the yard by the pit, counting the stars in the sky. Sometimes it is much easier to light a campfire under the ancient willow and shake the tree, and the flocks of zhizhi fly down, which is much easier to stick than to chew rotten wheat grains during the day. I enjoy it every night, and every day I look forward to the early arrival of dusk.
Later in the day, I walked to the edge of the pit and looked up to see a bright moon in the clear sky, overflowing with clear light, and the appearance of the moon in the water was in the air. Although I didn't know what Shixing was at that time, I was also happy with it, and something was stirring in my heart. Sometimes I play by the pit for a long time before I go home and sleep. In a dream I saw two moons stacked on top of each other. The clear light is more crystal clear. The next morning, I got up and went to the reeds by the pit to pick up the eggs laid by the ducks, and in vain flashed a flash, and my hand reached into the water, and it was an egg when I touched it. At this time, it is even more enjoyable.
I only stayed in my hometown for six years, and then I left my hometown and wandered to the end of the world. He lived in Jinan for more than ten years, spent four years in Beijing, returned to Jinan for a year, then lived in Europe for eleven years and returned to Beijing again. During this time, I have been to nearly thirty countries in the world, and I have seen many moons. I have seen the moon on the beautiful Lake Geneva in Switzerland, in the vast African desert, in the turquoise sea, in the majestic mountains. These moons should be said to be wonderful. But when I saw them, I immediately thought of the little moon above the reed pit in my hometown and in the water. In contrast, in any case, I also feel that these great moons of the vast world are nothing compared to my beloved little moon. My little moon, I will never forget you!
I am now in my old age and live in the Langrun Garden resort. To exaggerate, there are lush forests and bamboo trees, green water circulation, and several earthen mountains dotted among them. The scenery is undoubtedly superb. A few years ago, when I came back from Recuperation in Lushan, an old friend who was also recuperating in Lushan came to see me. When he saw such a scenery, he said indignantly, "You live in such a good place, why are you still going to Lushan?" "It can be seen that Langrun Garden is very impressive. Since there are mountains, water, trees, flowers, and birds here, every night, a round of emptiness, the moonlight shines on the blue waves, up and down, a blue number of acres, and the lotus fragrance overflows, the birds sing, it really can not be said that it is a moon-viewing resort. The wonder of the moonlight in the lotus pond is just outside my window. Whoever comes here, can they still be happy?
However, every time I value such a beautiful day, I still think of the ordinary little moon in the reed pit of my hometown. Seeing moonsickness has become a regular experience for me. The disease of homesickness cannot be said to be bitter or happy, there are memories, there are sorrows, there are nostalgia, there are regrets. The streamers passed, and the time did not come again. There is sweetness in the slight bitterness.
The moon is my hometown, when will I be able to see the moon in my hometown again! I looked forward to the southern sky, and my heart flew to my hometown.
Reader: Wan Hui
Host of Xiamen Economic Traffic Radio
Artwork: Excerpt from "Ordinary Tea Talk"
Author: Wang Zengqi, a representative figure of contemporary Chinese writers, essayists, dramatists, and Beijing writers. Wang Zengqi has achieved great success in the creation of short stories, and has also studied drama and folk art. His works include "Ordination", "Supper Flower Collection", "Passing Water", "Evening Cuiwen Talk" and so on.
Author/Wang Zengqi
I'm really an outsider to tea. The tea is drunk, and it is drunk very diligently, changing the leaves three times a day. The first thing I do when I wake up every day is to sit in the water and make tea. But it's not exquisite. Not picky about tea. Green tea, green tea, flower tea, black tea, tuo tea, oolong tea, but there is a convenient drink. Most of the tea leaves are sent by others, after drinking a barrel, and then open another tube, after drinking the Biluochun, you can drink the crab claw daffodil the next day. But no matter what kind of tea, it must be better. Too many tea leaves, so they had to keep boiled tea eggs. Some people think that drinking tea is just "quenching thirst and making a lot of fun and urinating", and I think there is another function, which is: to refresh.
My grandfather lived frugally, but his tea was quite elaborate. He drank Longjing, soaked in a dark maroon flat belly Yixing sand pot, and poured out a small porcelain cup to drink. He drank tea very strongly, and he had to put more than half a pot of tea at a time. Drink it slowly, take a sip, and have to taste it. Later, when I went outside, sometimes drinking Longjing tea, I would think of my grandfather.
My hometown has a habit of "drinking morning tea", or "going to the tea house". Going to the tea house is actually eating dim sum, buns, steamed dumplings, roast selling, mille-feuille cake... Tea is naturally to be drunk. Before the snack arrives, serve a bowl of dried shreds. We didn't boil dry shreds there, only blanched shreds. The dried silk is piled up in an open bowl in the shape of a tower, and before eating, the don will pour the ingredients in a teacup — soy sauce, vinegar, sesame oil. Drink hot tea and eat dried silk, a must!
Kunming tea houses sell green tea, and the tea leaves are not graded and soaked in a covered bowl. Wenlin Street later opened a "modern" tea house, using glasses to sell green tea, black tea - Dianhong, Dianlu. Yunnan green is like raw green beans, Yunnan red is like "Chinese red" wine, and the tea leaves are very thick. Dianhong is especially brewed, and after three openings, there is also a brown color. I think DianHong is better than Qi (Door) Red and Ying (German) Red, which may be my prejudice. Of course, it is worse than the Sri Lankan "Lipton" - some people can't drink the "Lipton", saying that the taste is very strange. People like and dislike, can not be forced.
In the winter of 1946, the Enlightened Bookstore entertained guests at The Green Poplar. After the meal, we went to Mr. Barkin's house for Kung Fu tea. Several people gathered around the pale yellow old-fashioned round table to watch Chen Yunzhen "perform" maundries, blazing charcoal, water injection, pouring pots, and sifting tea. Each person drank three small cups. The first time I drank Kung Fu tea, I was impressed. This tea is too strong to drink three small cups.
I had a good cup of tea in Hangzhou.
In the spring of 1947, I went to Hangzhou with a few colleagues who were teaching in a middle school. In addition to the "West Lake View", what made me unforgettable was a cup of Longjing that Tiger Ran drank. The real Shifeng Longjing rain before the new shoots, each bud is a flag and a shot, soaked in the glass, the tea leaves are upright, the load is floating and sinking, the tea color is quite light, but the entrance is fragrant, straight through the lungs, it is really good tea! Just too expensive. Shifeng tea is worthy of the name, but it is impossible for the tiger to run water to have such a taste. I have learned since then that drinking tea, water is crucial.
Old Beijing had to drink tea in the morning, and had to drink the tea "through", which was only comfortable on this day. Rich or poor, this is true. In 1948 I worked at the Noongate Museum of History. There were several guards in the museum, all of whom were very old. After they went to work, they first roasted the pieces of nest heads they brought on the stove plate, and then took turns to make tea with water. After drinking enough tea, I went to sit in the exhibition room of the Noon Gate City Tower. They drank flower tea. Beijingers love to drink flower tea, thinking that only flower tea is considered tea.
Gong Ding'an thought that Biluo was the first in spring. I once drank a freshly picked Biluochun in the "Carved Flower Building" in Dongshan, Suzhou. But the tea is brewed in a large bowl, which I think is a bit of a mess. Later, when asked by Lu Wenfu, Wenfu said that BiLuochun was drunk from a large bowl. The tea is extremely fine, the instrument is extremely coarse, and it is also strange!
I drank tea once in Taoyuan, Hunan. Tea leaves, ginger, sesame seeds, rice, and salt are placed in a bowl, and the sticks of hardwood are "beaten" into fine powders, and rinsed with boiling water.
Tea can also be eaten and made into food. There are Longjing shrimp in Hangzhou, and Qiu Shengrong once used Longjing tea to wrap dumplings, which can be described as ingenious. There is tea porridge in Japan. Sichuan's camphor tea duck is made of cypress branches, camphor leaves and tea leaves as smoke, and it has a tea aroma but no tea taste. Every place has food served with tea, so I won't list them here.
Reader: Fang Yuan
Works: Excerpt from "A Tale of a Foreign Land"
Author: Zhang Ailing, a modern Chinese writer. His major works include "Half Life", "Love in the Fallen City", "Golden Lock" and so on.
Excerpt from The Tale of a Stranger
Author/Zhang Ailing
I've never traveled much; in my, train station has always been a very bizarre place, in short there are many life and death partings, and the most serious things happen here. And the train is always at five or six o'clock in the morning, and there are two small yellow lights perched on the roof beams, like a cold bird, holding its wings. In the dawn, the trains that came from afar were roaring. Anyone in the middle of it is inevitably a little rushed—it is always as if something has forgotten to bring it.
The small window of the ticket office is studded with a circular wall clock. I see that Mr. Min easily bought a ticket back, which is similar to buying a movie ticket. When I got on the train, I saw a modern young woman timidly climbing the door of the car, and the slender ankles were exposed under the wide tweed coat, which made people think that this was just a picnic.
Chinese travel is always a picnic, eating all the way to one stop with specialties such as dried orchid tofu, sauce sparrow, and rice dumplings. Rao is like this, a couple of men and women standing near the door are still there quietly, talking about eating endlessly. The woman tilted her head and asked, "Guess what I ate this morning?" The man said, "Is it sweet or salty?" The woman thought for a moment and said, "Light." The man said, "It's hard to guess!" But porridge?" The woman shook her head and smiled. The man said, "Light... Lotus porridge is sweet, ham porridge is salty—" The woman said, "Tell you it's not porridge!" The man said, "I can't guess that." The crowd smiled disdainfully, probably thinking they were too bored, and at the same time listening with their ears open. A man from Guanshengyuan carried a plate of cake and squeezed it out for sale.
When you arrive at your destination, you will spend the night at the village's house. These two days and nights, they all make rice cakes. A square patio, two or three places on the surrounding corridor are lit with candles, grinding rice noodles and scooping rice cakes. There was another longboard table, surrounded by many people, and at this end stood a long worker, playing with a large white ball the size of a watermelon, because he was afraid of heat, he hunched over, rolled it around very fast, and a strange smile appeared on his face, making people think that he was doing a kind of arduous masonry- nuwa refining stone, or carving of primitive peoples. He carefully coiled the hot stone, and sometimes cut off a small piece, and threw it at the girl who threw it at the bottom, and the girl rubbed the small pieces out of the long strips one by one, and then the housewife incorporated them into the wooden model, slowly put them in, carefully pressed twice, and then smoothed the edges, and looked at it for a while, before turning over, tapping them on the table, and pouring it out.
She was not in a hurry, not so much that she was doing work there, but rather that she was being an example for everyone to see. She smiled and groaned, and her movements were very neat, dipping the rouge water with a small brush made of five goose feathers, and each piece of rice cake was three points, becoming three red plums, vaguely imprinted on the original convex and concave pattern.
Suddenly, all these people who were hanging around the long table were gone, the red candle in the middle was cold and half-cut, and there was a foreign iron can left on the table, which was soaked with water and a piece of cotton rouge. The housewife held her arm and watched from a distance as the servants carried the piles of rice cake strips to the hall on the other side of the courtyard, and she and her master calculated dozens of pounds of rice to make a total of several hundred.
At noon the next day, pass by a larger village and stop for dinner. There were two or three restaurants in a row, and the roofs were full of all kinds of food hanging down, cabbage, long strips of fresh meat, mostly tofu skin, and a kind of blistering pale yellow translucent, a large sheet of it - I don't know what. It all looked delicious. At the same time, the running hall is also on the stove, rustling vegetables at the gate, grabbing salt with exaggerated big movements, sprinkling some green onions, and then from another pot, the water is dripping with water to fish out a ball of soup noodles, "stabbing" a sound into the oil pot, more and more like flying sand and stones.
After walking another twenty miles, we arrived at Zhou Village. There was a candlestick shop with a cluster of small red candles hanging high, like long red fruits, hanging down tiredly. There are also many lanterns, each of which has the word "week" on it. The sedan went to buy a small lantern with flowers, hung it behind the sedan bar, and smiled: "I bought it and took it home, and after the New Year, in the first month, I will play with the children." Along the way, this little red, red, green and green lantern swayed behind us, and there was a warm feeling of family.
"Is to love reading" this radio boutique program launched the fourth season, the column will continue to uphold the original intention, the ancient and modern Chinese and foreign famous classics this cultural feast presented to the majority of listeners, to convey the charm of reading to us. The new programs on the fourth season will be broadcast on all frequencies of Xiamen Radio, welcome to the fixed point punch card to listen!
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