I saw my hometown again, and though she was just a faint silhouette, across the Pacific Ocean, in a strange land, the gentle and immortal silhouette could still bring me to tears.
My hometown, the hometown that has arisen from the Western Zhou Dynasty and is still blooming to this day.
Since I was a child, I have known the breadth and depth of the roads inside, the Pingchuan River and the Yanggu Trail crisscrossing, and the Sword Pavilion is next to the rivers and rivers, of which the flowers I can step on in a day, and I can slowly return. But I also know from childhood that whenever I, a wanderer, is wandering and confused, my hometown will always be there to caress my dust, like a tired bird in the woods embracing the return, the ocean embraces all the streams, I am impressed by the charm of my hometown, and I am also at ease because of the comfort and peace of my hometown.
My hometown changed with my age. When I found the road to my hometown, I was so surprised and surprised. So I poured countless afternoon yellowing sunshine on my hometown, and the rhythm flew into the bluestone alley of my hometown, and built the pink tile wall of my hometown, and the hometown at that time shone with gold-like colors. "Crystal clear as the new opening of the mirror and cold light out of the box also." I walk in the ink fragrance of my hometown, the hometown gives me the Spring Breeze cut the February blue willow, the yellow oriole sings in it, the egret soars up; the hometown also gives me a quiet and inky late night color, a clear spring, and the moonlight condenses into bright frost and snow on the bedside well rail. I am very happy with that time now, because although I did not understand at that time, whether I raised my head or bowed my head, or even closed my eyes, I did not need to think about it, and I knew that I was already in my hometown.
- "Come, how about memorizing a poem for us?" ”
- "Okay, good, good." ”
Hometown belongs to me, I suppose.
The land of the homeland gradually expands with age. I had long been aware of her vastness and infinity, and my cognition was so shallow in front of her that whenever I thought I had understood her whole picture, she smiled slightly and could unfold a period of willow and dark flowers. Whenever I climb the mountain pole of my hometown and look at the distance, I can find that her border has been spreading to the sky, the autumn water is long, and the clouds are dyed with a unique style. It was a spectacle that I could never see in my entire life, and I was always immersed in my hometown forever at this time – but I had to leave.
I can't see these landscapes where I'm going. I said sadly to my hometown.
Then remember them all well and well. Hometown replied, a look of regret and sadness in his eyes, and he remembered to come back often to see it.
I promised with all my mouth, but the days of returning home became less and less frequent, until I did not return for a few months and half a year. In ancient times, there was a great Yu Zhishui who passed through the door of the house and did not enter, and when I was wandering outside, sometimes I was even too busy to remember the opportunity of my hometown. I painstakingly unraveled the shadow of my hometown from the twenty-six strange symbols, and tried to forcibly remember the strange streets in the same way that I remembered my hometown. The image of my hometown in my heart seems to be unconsciously diluted and diluted, and when my suffering and attempts turn numb, the unfamiliar street becomes familiar. No one here mentions the hometown, and even few people remember the hometown, and when I staggered forward here, I also tried to master those new symbols, using them to depict the fiery sunset in my memory, the rivers and rivers with big waves, talking about the ambition and pride behind these scenery, sighing, talking about the touch, heartbreak and intoxication I could get from it, but the response was empty and perfunctory.
Oh, these people don't know my language, and naturally they don't know my hometown.
I felt sorry at first, gradually became accustomed to it, and in the end I rarely mentioned my hometown in order to integrate with them. Life in a different place is more like a piece of unexplored and excavated land, I use the symbols that are gradually becoming more and more skilled, I am busy, there is no time to take care of him, only when the night is quiet, looking at the bright moon, I sometimes suddenly think of my hometown, and then after a slight shyness, as if to coax myself, I reiterate my love for her.
The moment of trepidation was fleeting, and I didn't even realize that there was a small string in my heart that was gently plucked, which would shock the gap between me and my hometown now.
- "Shall I read another poem?" ”
"Forget it, I just finished my English homework and I have to go to class tomorrow."
As the journey kept going, I suddenly realized the importance of my hometown, because someone began to tell me the proportion of my hometown in the world- she is so old, so full of brilliance, fascinating, and not to be ignored. I once again threw myself into my "hometown" with a surprised mood, and I was envied by the people around me. I began to talk to them again and lightly about there, about the heavy mountains and mountains there, about the Saibei Shuo wind there, everything can become the capital I talk about- I am indeed joyful, but is this my initial joy? I don't have time to think about it, I just mention my hometown again and again in this place where the letters are made up.
I haven't actually been back in a long time.
But doesn't my hometown belong to me? I was born and raised in Slovak, will I still forget my hometown?
My hometown actually began to shift to my mouth, accumulating over time, and I finally found myself shocked to find myself one day in shock: when I said I loved her, I did not hesitate to remove her from my heart first. That ancient and vast land had finally become a strong capital for me, but when I wandered, I found that I could not find my way back to my hometown.
- "The Lone Moon Wheel in the Sky... Wait, what's next? ”
"I remember there was a poem that said this... But slowly, how is it written? ”
When I realized this moment, I was shocked and frightened, and the whole person even fell to the ground. I finally understood the sad and sighing look in my hometown at that time—she had watched how many wanderers like me had left, who had read thousands of sails and traveled around the world, but few of them could remember their hometown after this, or were willing to return to their hometown. How many years have I been in my hometown, those grasses and trees, mountains and rivers should have been transformed into my blood, so why did I just leave these days, and now I cut open my body, crazy to peel off my soul, filter through the drops of blood, but I can't even find the shadow of my hometown?
I hurriedly turned my head to look at my "capital" again, only to find that the "hometown" was hanging there like a specimen, only the empty shell outside the golden jade, looking at my body refilled with words ironically. But I know that I only have an empty shell, which seems to have a clear purpose, but in fact, I have left my hometown aimlessly and forever. I have no more picturesque poetry in the moonlight, no infinite emotion in the face of the spring breeze, and perhaps I can use my newly acquired language to exclaim and praise as before, but I know from the surprised or hesitant eyes of the locals that this language has a place where he belongs, and that place has his own children, and I know only the fur and not the same.
So what about my hometown, where is my hometown?
I saw that there was no moon in the boundless night, and there was no sun in the vast sky. I only know that my hometown has taken root in my heart, but I don't know that my hometown will make me full of trees and flowers. And now that the flowers have not yet bloomed, I watched myself numbly absorb the nutrients of a foreign country, the whole person had long been split in half, and my spirit began to cry to the body, but the body ignored it.
It turned out that my hometown did not belong to me, but I belonged to my hometown from beginning to end.
I carefully withdrew the apparition of my hometown from my mouth—it seemed as if I could discard it at will, but now it was my only warmth and comfort— and began to walk back. I didn't ask anyone for directions, because I knew that only I could find my hometown. I am also afraid that the unintentional words of others will make my hometown ten thousand feet away from me. Every step you take, you have to look left and right for a long time, for fear of ignoring the shadow of the half-silk hometown.
I kept looking, "the little boy left home and returned to the old mane, the hometown voice has not changed the sideburns", I seem to have walked out of half a life, but before I found my hometown, I did not dare to admit that I was still the teenager who poured sunshine into his hometown.
I don't know how long later, I seem to see the outline of my hometown. The weary bird chirped helplessly in the vast world, but she could only feel her feathers hovering above the woods, and even the breeze sweeping over the tail wing, she had to carefully identify whether there was a familiar smell of book and ink.
I don't know how long later, I seem to see the silhouette of my hometown. The birds flapped their wings and flew into the sky, flying high and low over the river of time. In her heart, she remembered the place of her childhood over and over again, where the smoke willows whisked out of the bluestone tail alley, the Horse ran to the end of the world, the frost and snow rolled into the luminous wine glass, and the bright moon lifted Chan Juan for thousands of miles.
Then, I finally saw my hometown again. The ink fragrance drifted in the sunset afterglow, like weeping, together with my tears, flowing into the small stone pond stream with tailed fish swimming in the air, flowing into the eastbound river that exhausted the wind and currents of the ages, flowing into the thousand-foot waterfall of the Nine Heavenly Milky Way, flowing into the white dew of the unsightly, flowing into the candle window flowers, and flowing into the night rain of Bashan. Convergence into my hometown.
Hometown, hometown, it turns out that you have been smiling in my heart as ever, but I have forgotten you.
I still have to be in a different place, I still have to move forward, but I will always be your believer, and you will always be my hometown. Let me be confident in the reckless red dust not to let the green shirt get wet, only because you will weave for me with that ancient and brilliant text, or Qin Huai's poetry or the desert smoke and snow dreams, embracing the river flowing into the sea, so that the tired birds can return home.
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About author:Wang Jue,Gender:Female,Date of Birth:2003/10/31,From Wuhan, Hubei Province,School:MoreauCatholic HighSchool,Author's Words:Hi,Hello, I'm Wang Jue,I'm currently in the twelfth grade of U.S. High School in California, and it's a pleasure to meet you.
Speaking of writing, it is not so much an interest to me as a habit that has been formed over many years. When I recorded my first sentence with a pen when I was young, I was deeply impressed by its charm. When I was in elementary school, I tried to write scripts and short stories, and in the third grade, I compiled all my works into a book; after coming to junior high school, with the improvement of literary level, I founded the literary club and developed it into a very popular club in the school, and then I participated in the "Wuhan Evening News" and published my works; although I came to the United States before, I never gave up writing, and always published my words on the Internet, and through a long period of hard work, I had more than 9 million hits. For me, words are the extension and embodiment of people's thoughts, and also the bearing and inheritance of people's spirit. I have had a love for them before, and I will continue to do so in the future.