He sells his art mostly on the trail outside the Hof Garden, sometimes under a nearby road bridge, not far from each other.
In his sixties, gray hair, ochre face, rough hands, wearing a dark blue jacket with a whitish color, sitting on a plastic folding stool, pulling an old accordion, shoulder straps are worn, black and white keys are slippery, and the piano is the same as the person.
There are many old people in Eastern Europe who beg, most of them are hired, all dressed in a rustic atmosphere, sitting here, or kneeling there, some people pass by and stretch out their hands and kowtow, and no one passes by and sit still, as if they are homesick. For some reason, this old man made me especially embarrassed.
It's not his piano sound, the Ukrainian guy Ivan on the commercial street (his Facebook account is printed on the piano case), the accordion is played heartily, and they are all world-famous songs, so that the audience is like the city, and the old man is lonely here.
It was the old man's expression, spicy and vicissitudes, and the emptiness revealed universal sadness, and I couldn't help but look back after every time I walked by. I remember it was also October, the sky had turned cold, there was no figure on the path, I was always embarrassed on weekdays, this time I didn't want to go forward, threw a banknote into the jar, got up and met his gaze unexpectedly, his gaze, like an electric current, spread throughout my body, I seemed to be suddenly lit by the light of God, almost crying happily.
I haven't seen the old man again for two years, and there is no area around the city center, and I don't know where he went.
"Eastern European Beggars Group Portrait IV: The Old Man Playing the Accordion" three books
Written by | Three books
Fallen leaves are full of Chang'an
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"Remembering Wu on the River"
(Don) Gia Island
The country of Min sailed, and the toad lost its return.
The autumn breeze blows the water, and the fallen leaves are full of Chang'an.
On the eve of the gathering here, it was a thunderstorm and cold.
Lan Huan has not returned, and the news is cloudy.
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Let's start with the poetic remarks:
In the same season, it was late autumn, we gathered here, it was thunderstorm, and my skin was still cold from that night. Outside Chang'an City, by the Weishui Bridge, you sail away to the country of Min outside the sky. The moon is round and missing, missing and round, and the leaves are falling and long, growing and falling. Last year's autumn wind still blew last year's Weishui water, and the wooden leaves once again fell all over Chang'an. You are gone, I sigh.
Try flashbacks again:
In late autumn, the autumn breeze blows the water, and the leaves fall all over Chang'an. I stand alone at the farewell site, by the Weishui Bridge, looking in the direction you left. Since you sailed to the country of Fujian, the moon has been missing and round, round and missing. You're gone. The autumn wind, the water, the fallen leaves, Chang'an, brought back that night, we met here, it was a thunderstorm, and I remember the cold of the night.
Positive narrative or flashback, which one is better? I think flashbacks are better, time is frozen last year, and poetry seems to turn to thought. However, Jia Dao adopts neither formal narration nor flashback, and the chapter method is better, the magic is non-linear, and all time and space are intertwined in the moment when writing the poem.
In the poem, if you ask which feeling comes first, there should be no priority, and all feelings occur at the same time. Yes, it happens at the same time, this is the real state of life existence, we will feel everything at the same time in an instant, but the brain's processing ability is limited, accustomed to linear thinking, and expressed in words and words, it must be sentence after sentence, as if there is a sequence.
If based on phenomenology, the way this poem is generated, the second link, "the autumn wind blows the water, the fallen leaves are full of Chang'an", is an opportunity to trigger memories, it seems that it should be used as the first link, but the time of the chanting is at the water's edge, and the friend is still in the present, so he first said "the country of Min sails away, the toad loses and recovers", and then recalls last year from Chang'an, and even finally looks forward to the sky. After such an analysis, it is as if there is an order, easy to understand, but the interest will be lost, and after analyzing for a long time, writing these many words is a momentary thing for the poet.
Before Jia Dao entered the army in Chang'an, he met a reclusive friend Wu Shishi, who later left Chang'an and took a boat to Fujian. Are you really missing Master Wu? If we examine Jia Dao's collection of inherited poems, we will find that he actually longs for retreat, and the concentration is full of poems such as the hidden seeker, the sending person, the Sushan Temple, the inscription seclusion, and the traveling immortals, and he may miss himself.
The title of this poem "Remembering Wu Virgins on the River" can also be playful, Jia Island still recalls Wu Virgins when he left by boat, why? Because that was the last image left to him by Virgin, something he longed for and could not do, he was stranded in Chang'an, full of fallen leaves, year after year.
Qing Wang Gai "Late Autumn Pole Diagram"
Quiet nights, no world
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"Autumn House on the Bashang"
(Don) Ma Dai
The wind and rain in Bayuan are fixed, and the geese travel frequently in the evening.
Deciduous trees, cold lights lone night people.
The empty garden is white dewdrops, and the isolated wild monks are neighbors.
Lying in the suburbs for a long time, what a year to this body.
/ /
Since ancient times, autumn has been sad and lonely. Blue clouds, yellow leaves, tight west wind, northern geese flying south, especially rain, these celestial phenomena and phenology, all make people homesick and make people feel dusk.
Ma Daike lived on the bashang, his home was in the East China Sea, and he came to Chang'an to seek merit, but he stayed for a long time and did not find the step to advance. On this autumn night, he was lying in a deserted country temple, bitter and lonely, feeling that his career was uncertain and his life was hopeless.
What exactly trapped him? The poet does not introspect further. We who do not have to learn and excel can clearly see from onlookers that the bitterness of the ancient literati, the so-called huaicai does not meet, is actually a false proposition. What talent did you have, and what did you meet? Relying on literature and art to make a career is a great misunderstanding, and I made a mistake at the beginning.
It is the poet himself who traps the poet, who does not know the falsity of this proposition, or who knows that the meaning of life has nothing else. In essence, today's people are not, but the propositions are different and the game version is more. You might as well ask yourself: Why does life have to be externally given meaning, isn't the meaninglessness of the present moment meaningful?
The autumn night in Bayuan, if you can live in the moment, can also be very beautiful. After the wind and rain, I saw geese walking and flocks flying by. The tree is falling its leaves, as long as you want, the tree is the hometown, where is the so-called "other country tree". The light is not bright enough, even if it is a cold light, it can also be accompanied and talked. "Cold Lantern Lonely Night Man", if not blindly self-pitying, but seeing that life in the world is only "a wren nesting in the deep forest, but a branch; The rat drinks the river, but the belly is full", will you not be liberated from the next!
The night was very quiet, and he could hear the "white dew drops of the empty garden", and he was alone, next to the wild monks, and felt too quiet, so quiet that the world seemed empty. Just let it be empty, however, the outside world is easy, the external thing is difficult, the external thing is easy, and the external body is difficult. "This body", clinging to this body, disturbs all things, as the 13th chapter of the Tao Te Ching laments: "I have a great patient, for me to have a body, and I have no body, what affliction do I have?!" ”
Southern Song Dynasty Xiao Zhao (Biography) "Danlin Poetry and Chart"
Desolation is because of whom after all
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"Qingping Le"
(Qing) Nalan Sex
When will the brocade be sent?
I remember holding back tears in front of the lamp, but asked if the Ming Dynasty was OK.
Don't come a few times like a pile of fallen leaves.
A kind of cold and shallow dream, desolation after all.
/ /
This is a memorandum of memory. Since being appointed as a third-class bodyguard, Nalan has been driven from outside the Saiwai many times, I don't know how complicated his real feelings are, and every time he walks to the bank of Guanshan, his dream of the old garden cannot be fulfilled.
"Saihong is gone, when will the brocade be sent?" It was autumn, the wild geese flew south, and his wife didn't know how to miss herself. When Du Fu was stranded in Chang'an, on the night of the moon, he also had this lovesickness, and his poem was better: "Tonight in Xiaozhou Moon, only look at it alone", together with this bright moon, not only there is no time and space barrier, but also no one and me.
When parting, the memories are mostly frozen at a certain moment of parting, or an expression or action of a character, or a certain scene or sound of the environment. "Remember to hold back tears in front of the lamp, but asked if the Ming Dynasty was OK." We have also seen this scene in Wei Zhuang's "Female Crown": "April 17 is last year's day, the time of farewell." Hold back tears and lower his face, half frowning shyly. I don't know that the soul has been broken, and there are dreams with me, except for the moon in the sky, no one knows. ”
There is no need to say that Nalan imitates or uses Wei Zhuang, it should be said that this is everyone's common feelings, and it is very interesting to read the two words together. There is also a moon in the next piece of Nalan words, "don't come a few times like a cloud, scattered and fallen leaves pile up", the moon here is only a unit of time, autumn is just a bleak atmosphere, but in Wei Zhuang's words, "except for the moon in the sky, no one knows", the moon is a mysterious witness, a god of mercy.
Let's look at dreams. Probably because it is too cold outside the plug and the scenery is too different, Nalan's dream can not be fulfilled, "A kind of cold and shallow dream, desolation after all, who is it." "Shallow dreams, difficult to defeat Xiaohan, after all, desolation because of whom, because of whom? Because of the wife, because of the weather, because of the service, because of the body? Maybe both. Wei Zhuang's dream is not only made, but also the dream is long-standing, with the feeling of a girl leaving the soul, "empty", is sad, but also joyful.
Northern Song Dynasty Guo Xi "Pingyuan Map of Rocks"
The edges are scattered, and the leaves are falling
What is a dream and what is real?
After reading so many years and encountering simple people and things, I still don't know how to deal with it. It is easier to cope with the world than to deal with a person, and it is easier to do a job than to perfunctory one thing.
For example, the beggar outside the corner café, the Romanian man, my little brother, since he regarded me as a friend, I used to walk around the other side of the street, and sometimes he saw him, beckoned and smiled, like a thief being caught red-handed. It's not that I don't want to give anymore, but I don't know whether to give it or not.
He is thin, but he is still so young, begging here, sitting for years, it seems that he will always sit down, is alms helping him or harming him? Maybe this, maybe that, analysis comes, analyzes, I still have no answer, it can be seen that reading is useless.
A few days ago, passing by the street corner, walking opposite as usual, I saw him still sitting there, changing into a black cotton suit, sitting in a pile of yellow leaves, which was really a natural picture. Taking cover from a parked vehicle on the side of the road, I quietly watched from behind, and beside him was a linden tree, with yellow leaves slowly falling, falling on him and all around him. If he sees me and greets me, this solemn beauty will disappear.
Written by/Three books
Editor/Zhang Jin He An'an
Proofreader/Lin Zhao