This year marks the 200th anniversary of the birth of the musician Smetana. I think of late autumn many years ago, in Prague, my companion and I went from Hussite Square to the famous Charles Bridge. The hosts went out of their way to take us on a walk in order to get a good look at the Vltava River, which is one of their proudest rivers.
At that time, Prague was not so hot for tourism, and the streets along the Vltava River were quiet, without the crowds of people like a crucian carp in a tourist city. At one of the corners of the street, I came across a blue street sign that even if I didn't know Czech, I could spell Smetana from the letters. I was pleasantly surprised, could it be Smetana Street? I asked my host, and they nodded, and they didn't have the feeling of being in a foreign country like me.
However, I was faintly excited about this discovery at the time. It's fitting that the street was named Smetana. And, on Smetana Street, the scale of the name is also extremely pleasant. On top of that, Smetana wrote a song about the Vltava River, which is right next to it.
The old Charles Bridge always attracts tourists from all over the world. Photo by Fang Hua
Walking on this street, it was as if I had met Smetana, and suddenly I felt that this street was so beautiful.
On that day, we passed by at dusk, with a street of golden leaves gently swaying overhead, and a street of golden leaves rustling under our feet. The island in the middle of the Vltava River is even more beautiful, surrounded by clusters of golden trees that form a wonderful oil painting, the leaves freeze into leaves made of gold, and the breath of the trees and the ripples of the river turn into a melody. A pair of young people are hugging and kissing as if no one is around, becoming the most touching stroke in the picture, seamlessly melting in the golden rhythm, making people feel that if love is unparalleled here, even ordinary kisses will be sandwiched with the golden rhythm, romantic, and become a golden kiss. The golden leaves of the trees whispered, accompaniing them, accompanying us, and at the same time, accompaniing Prague.
Of course, the melody of this accompaniment should be the most famous "Vltava River" from Smetana. The golden leaves of the tall trees on the street swayed in the autumn breeze to the graceful notes of Smetana's "Vltava River".
At this time, the melody of Smetana's "Vltava River" sounded in my heart: the flute and clarinet played beautiful notes at the beginning, then the violin gently echoed and the harp brought jumping overtones, and then, rhythmically, the whole orchestra set off, one after another, countless clear streams poured in from all directions, merging into this Vltava River. This river, because of the music of Smetana, is always rippling with such a moving melody. Under the glow of the sunset and sunset, this familiar melody and the Vltava River in front of you are flowing together with gold and silver, as if flowing from the bright and moving fairy tale of the water nymph.
"Vltava River" is the second piece in Smetana's symphonic poem suite "My Fatherland". Visitors from all over the world who come to Prague do not know other Czech musicians, not even Smetana, but walking along the Vltava River will not fail to know the song "Vltava River". It is great for a country to have such a musician to compose such an enduring piece of music for such a river in this country.
Especially when I think of Smetana's composition of this "Vltava River", it is when the heavy blow of sudden deafness in both ears comes, and another kind of feeling will swell up for this "Vltava River". Think of what kind of mood and scene Smetana must have felt when he sat in the concert hall when this piece was officially performed, but he could no longer hear the melody he had composed? He had walked through this familiar street more than once, and he could not hear the sound of the Vltava River in front of him, he could not hear the golden sound of the autumn wind stirring the leaves of the trees in the street, and he could not hear the warm greetings of his familiar friends and the cordial conversations of strangers walking on the street...... What pain he must have been. Sometimes, beautiful scenes and beautiful melodies are closely related to the painful life and the painful heart, deliberately creating this strong contrast, allowing us to enjoy the beauty and digest the pain at the same time.
The setting sun shines on the Vltava River with golden light. Photo by Fang Hua
At the end of Smetana Street is the Charles Bridge, which is not too long to pass the National Opera House, the May Day Bridge and the club named after the great Czech painter Manes. But Smetana must have walked this road many times, because from 1861, when he returned from Sweden at the age of 37, to his death in 1884 at the age of 60, he lived in Prague for 23 years, and many of his great works, including the most famous symphonic poem "My Fatherland" by the Vltava River, were written in Prague, which was the golden age of his musical creation. He was also involved in many of the work that created Czech national music, and the magnificent National Opera House we passed by was founded in 1868 with a fundraiser from many others.
Walking on this street fills your heart with poetry and a sense of Smetana. With the autumn breeze blowing in your face, the fallen leaves rustling under your feet, the Vltava River whispering in your ears, and the beautiful melody of Smetana gently rippling in your heart, it is truly a beautiful part of the road.
The sunset was gently drifting, twilight was falling, a haze enveloped Smetana Street and the Vltava River, and the Charles Bridge was in front of you, showing a black silhouette across the Vltava River, clinging to the already tiled blue sky. Everything became blurry, and the street lamps suddenly lit up, like lotus flowers that suddenly bloomed on both sides of the street. Smetana Street, which drifted into the night, immediately changed into a different shape, and under the silver light, the whole street was like an undercurrent river, fluctuating and shining, floating in the sky, as if many active elves had suddenly emerged. Probably because the Charles Bridge is a tourist attraction, even if it is night, there are still people in front of it, and the noisy atmosphere is blowing in the face, without the tranquility and poetry just now. Sometimes, man is the creator of beauty, and sometimes, he is the destroyer of beauty.
Only the leaves on Smetana Street in front of me were still faintly visible, and the echoes were as clear and loud as metal. We should be glad that we have come at the right time, and the autumn makes these golden leaves shake and resonate with a golden symphony, which is bigger than all the bands of the Prague Spring, and plays the most glorious symphony of the year. Listening to such a glorious symphony on this street of Smetana, the conductor must be Smetana, whose fingers can be seen dancing in the evening breeze. He can't hear it, but we can all hear it.
Source: Financial Times
Author: Xiao Fuxing
Editor: Duan Jiaxi
Email: [email protected]