Preface
The Tang Dynasty was a brilliant period in Chinese history, and since the founding of the country by Tang Gaozu Li Yuan, the country's economic prosperity and national strength have created a good foundation for the vigorous development of culture. In this era, literati and artists sprung up like mushrooms after a rain, among which great poets such as Li Bai, Du Fu, Wang Wei, Li Shangyin and other great poets left a rich literary legacy for future generations.
However, among these many literary giants, there is a person who is respected by later generations as a "poetic ghost", and he is Li He. Li He's poetry is unique and full of bold and unrestrained atmosphere, which adds a lot of color to the literature of the Tang Dynasty. One of his masterpieces is the famous sentence that has been passed down through the ages: "If the sky is loved, the sky will be old".
Interestingly, after the Tang Dynasty, no one was able to successfully connect this eternal quatrain, and it once became an unsolved mystery in the literary world.
The Son of the Poet: Li He's Life Trajectory
Li He was born an anachronistic child. Born into an aristocratic family, he has a cold personality and sharp words, which is very different from the ornate language of the nobles. Because of this, he was out of place in a high society that only focused on form and red tape.
Only when he gets together with a few bosom friends will Li He take off his cold appearance and become enthusiastic and unrestrained. This also prevented his talent from being fully displayed in the hierarchical social structure of the time.
In the era of political turmoil, Li He's laughter and scolding often offended the powerful. Because of this, his career is full of ups and downs. After several court banishments, Li He's pent-up resentment in the officialdom finally exploded, and his bold and outspoken criticism caused the emperor's dissatisfaction. As a last resort, he had no choice but to leave the capital and return to his hometown, looking for the last peace in the countryside.
When Li He finally returned to the vast countryside from the bustling Chang'an, he was greeted by a world that he had almost forgotten. This land holds all his childhood memories. In the distance, the figures of several gray-haired old men busy in the fields reminded him of his ancestors.
Under the old locust tree at the entrance of the village, I don't know how much children's time is playing. All these familiar and unfamiliar scenery became Li He's only solace in the last years of his life.
In a simple thatched hut, Li He entertained himself with poetry all day long. Occasionally, a few old friends come from afar to visit and bring new things from the city to his paradise. The children of the village often come together to listen to him tell the stories and legends of the city. Li He finally found the long-lost peace in poetry, and began to truly examine the world.
If there is love in the sky, can the years be bearable?
On a thunderstormy night, Li He sat alone by candlelight. He stared out the window at the pouring rain, which continued to beat on the lattice, echoing like a beep.
I don't know when it began, Li He was extremely obsessed with the sound of rain. Perhaps, this is the music that God has given him; Or perhaps, this natural sound full of grievances is a portrayal of his inner world. He likes to rest on the windowsill, listening to the sound of the rain motionlessly, letting his thoughts drift into the distance.
In front of him, a piece of manuscript paper was as white as new. It was late at night, but Li He's heart was always haunted by an inexplicable throbbing that could not be calmed down for a long time.
He hesitated for a moment, and finally picked up the pen lightly and dropped the first word on the manuscript paper.
This is a poem entitled "The Song of the Golden and Bronze Immortals", in which Li He tries to express his infinite nostalgia and regret for today's prosperous world. But when he wrote the last sentence, he couldn't continue for a long time.
He wrote: "If there is love in the sky, the sky is also old, and the smoke and rain are desolate in the twilight of spring......
The tip of the pen swirled on the paper, but he could not spit out a word. Li He looked out the window in a daze, and there was a kind of sad grievance in the sound of the rain. The artistic conception in this sentence seems to surpass everything he can depict in his pen. It opened a door to the depths of his heart, and the end of the door was filled with unspeakable pain.
Perhaps, this is the shadow that Li He cannot dispel in his life. The recognition and understanding he longed for were nowhere to be found in reality.
Li He put down his pen and looked out the window. The rain was still falling, and they smashed into the dirt, stirring up a splash.
He said softly: "I use words to create an ideal world. But this world, after all, is still so indifferent and cruel. ”
The Death of the Poet Ghost: Li He's End
Li He spent his last few years in the countryside in a short but peaceful manner. However, the good times did not last long, and eventually there was a death before liberation.
One early summer, Li He fell ill in his humble hut. This time the illness came without warning, but it was unusually rapid. The village is helpless. Li He clearly realized that the Grim Reaper had come to his side.
The battle against illness was consuming the fire of his life. Li He knew that he didn't have much time left.
On that day, several old friends came to visit. They looked at Li He on the sickbed, their eyes full of regret.
"Brother He, you can be called a genius, if you can live for a few more years, you will definitely be able to write a book and become famous. ”
Li He smiled weakly, which seemed to exhaust the last of his strength.
"The long years I've lived are enough. Now I only hope that my words will be passed down and remembered by future generations. ”
After speaking, his eyes slowly closed, and there seemed to be a hint of relief in his expression.
That night, Li He passed away quietly in his sleep. The next day, a last word was found at his bedside:
"If there is love in the sky, the sky is also old, I only wish the mountains and rivers are evergreen, and the sun and the moon are bright. ”
The wine is intoxicating and the poetry is intoxicating
Hundreds of years later, the Song Dynasty.
In this prosperous era, literati and scholars often gathered to enjoy tea and compose poems. Today's wine party gathered one of the best lyricists in the Song Dynasty, and the scene was very grand and lively. Among them, the most eye-catching is Shi Yannian, the leader of the world's poetry world.
Shi Yannian is Chinese New Year's Eve eight years old today, which is the time when his lyrics are the most accomplished. His writings are very clever, and they are also the most popular among the literati. What's more, he is usually kind to people, and he can make people laugh the most when he tells jokes. This makes him well-connected in the literary world, and he is the first of the four great families of Song Ci.
After a few rounds of drinking, Shi Yannian's expression gradually became trance-like. He stared at the bright moon outside, his eyes seemed to have traveled through thousands of years of time and space, as if he had seen the prosperity of the Tang Dynasty.
An old friend saw that his thoughts were no longer in the middle of the banquet, and asked with a smile, "Brother Shi, what are you thinking in your heart?"
Shi Yannian came back to his senses and smiled lightly: "I'm missing an old friend who has long passed away. His name is Li He, the word is too white, and he is a great poet with wonderful words. His words carry too much pain and expectation, and I often sigh for what happened to him. ”
Speaking of this, he took a sip of the wine in the glass, looked at Haoyue, and whispered:
"In the sky, the full moon is round and uncomplaining; In the world, this room is poetic and mellow. Li Taibai, I wish you good luck in the spirit of heaven with this glass of wine!"
Everyone present was moved by Shi Yannian's sudden groan. Some people sighed, some people echoed, and they were solemn. The crowd raised their glasses and paid homage to the distant name with wine.
Li He and Shi Yannian, it seems that at this moment, their hearts have reached an aesthetic resonance.
Shi Yannian said with a smile: "Today I am inspired by the light of this full moon. I hope you will review my new work. ”
Then he began to sing:
"The sky is evergreen, the sun is everbright. Laughing at Penglai in the world, it is Li Hezi's bright moon and bright stars......"
The psalms are written in one go, mellow and clear. Everyone was overwhelmed by this wonderful work. It turns out that this new poem inherits the feelings of Li He's "Golden and Bronze Immortal Song of the Han Dynasty", and at the same time continues to create a new literary style, which perfectly highlights the poetic soul of the two generations.
Seeing everyone's amazing looks, Shi Yannian's heart was suddenly satisfied. The jade cup in his hand was gently raised, and he smiled and said, "This poem, I dedicate it to the old man Li He!"
The years are like a song, and the love is truly immortal
In the middle of the night, Shi Yannian sat alone by the window, staring at the bright moon outside the window. The word "Li He" was lightly turned in his hand, and his expression was extremely profound.
"I don't know where Mr. Li He is now, but have you seen the psalms I have written for you? Are you satisfied with my words?"
Shi Yannian muttered to himself, as if he was directly talking to the Tang Dynasty poet who had long been a human being. With a light smoke, he imagined that Li He's soul was beside him, listening to his chanting.
He sang his new words, and he was sincere. The sound echoed in the night, as if it had penetrated the boundaries of time and space, wanting to convey to a soul from a thousand years ago.
After chanting, he waited quietly, hoping to get a response from his ancestors.
At this time, a familiar and unfamiliar voice seemed to come to my ears.
"Good words! Good words! Brother Shi Yannian, I, Li He, am flattered......"
Shi Yannian stood up excitedly and looked around. He knew that this was just his wishful thinking, and Li He's soul couldn't really be here.
However, the illusion is so beautiful. Shi Yannian is willing to immerse himself in this dialogue that spans time, even if it is just a castle in the air.
"Mr. Li, I have always admired your talent, your words are so simple and upright, straight to the hearts of the people, and the narrative is subtle. If you are here, sir, I will ask you for advice on the art of words. ”
In the void, there was a voice that seemed to be real and illusory: "Hahaha, Brother Shi is a false praise! I was already a down-and-out poet in the Tang Dynasty, where do I dare to be everyone's teacher? Now I see that Brother Shi's words are graceful, and Li is ashamed of himself, and he is willing to bow ......down."
The two continued this conversation under the moonlight, which transcended time. Although it is just Shi Yannian's wishful thinking, through this castle in the air, the hearts of the two poets who have spanned thousands of years have reached a resonance. It is precisely because of this that Shi Yannian's new words found the most beautiful sequel in Li He's pen.
epilogue
Li He and Shi Yannian, two souls who transcended time and space, finally completed a spiritual shocking dialogue through their words that have been passed down through the ages.
"If there is love in the sky, the sky is also old, and the moon is like a hateless moon and the moon is full." This transcendent verse has achieved a legendary story spanning thousands of years on the magnificent picture scroll of Chinese classical literature.
It carries not only the literary brilliance of the two talents, but also their spiritual pursuit that can still communicate with each other through the changes of the years. This is also an important reason why the swan song of the ages can maintain its vitality forever and endure for a long time.
Whenever we look at the words of the ancients, we seem to be able to hear the deep cry of their souls in a trance; Every time we listen to the voices of the ancients, we will eventually find resonance in our own life journey. This is the infinite charm of literature, and it is also our eternal nostalgia for that fleeting time.