Listen, the piano sounds like a complaint

In the movie "The Longest Day", the British, American, French and other Allied forces use Verlaine's poetry as the Morse code to convey the signal of the Normandy landing.

"The autumn violin, that long whimper with monotonous melancholy, stabbed me in the heart."　

Sad spring, hurt autumn. Foreign countries can't get rid of such a tone. But the violin can be more abundant and diverse.

I remembered an autumn last year, on the weekend, at the Changsha Wanjiali Hotel for a meeting. In the unprepared free time, sneak out and look at this palatial place: there are wax figures, murals... The cinema is playing Jet Li's version of "Jingwumen".

On the 21st floor, there was a little girl playing the violin, her mother waiting by, and grandpa correcting her from time to time.

She pored over the thick sheet music. When she was getting better, her family changed from serious to relaxed, showing a happy smile.

Gradually, the number of tourists increased, and the little girl played alone and reveled in the sound of the piano. This should be a completely different feeling from the closure in the classroom, right?

I can't hear what the track is. Like not being able to see what the little girl's expression is, indifference? indifferent? Like some swordsman, she only has a sword in her eyes, and she only has a violin.

After a while, she chose a familiar song "Liang Zhu", the music is silky, clear and lingering, like a pair of butterflies in the air. It's hard to imagine an eight- or nine-year-old girl being able to fit in, and it's hard to tell if it's a skill or a natural expression.

At the end of the song, I couldn't help but applaud with the audience.

She was very diligent, and when I walked through the cloister, I felt that the sound of the piano was pervasive, like the sound of crying slowly, slowly reverberating, and the world was suddenly quiet, perhaps the illusion of music.

The sound of the piano is the grain of sand in the hourglass, the whisper of time. "The moon is full of golden pots, and whispers in the middle of the night." At that time, the moon was still napping, but there was a feeling of whispering.

In the afternoon, the leaves were swaying in the wind, and the sunlight was faintly soaking me. I sat on a marble bench and began to feel sleepy.

The conference is still open, and there is no sign of an end, like the lanterns have not yet come into the night.

In my sleep, I felt that I heard some kind of music, like falling from the sky, and like it was slowly rising from the sea level, which was so pleasant that people briefly forgot their busy time.