It seems that Bao Jun, a Qing dynasty, wrote a couplet: "There are inexhaustible books in the world that are difficult to learn, and there is no going on in the heart is a sage", I think it is better to change it to: "There is no unreadable book in the world that can speak of learning; if there is no going to do things in the heart, it is a sage", which seems better. The good books in the world may still be read; the most intact people still have unpleasant things in their hearts. Su Dongpo has a sentence: "The taste of the world is Qinghuan." "Thinking about it carefully, most of the people who have always liked Su Dongpo are people who accommodate and indulge themselves and crawl in the world, and naturally they are also people who are rare and happy. There is always joy in the world, but it is always very trivial. Meichen is an alias for my hometown of Putuo Mountain. The Han hermit Meifu used to refine medicine there. The word "mei" in Metzen took his surname, and this surname was also taken from grass and trees, natural fangzhi, taking advantage. The year before, my hometown lou brother gave me a durian flower stone, which was chiseled from the lotus pond stone of Putuo Mountain. I also asked for a few lumps of rough. The rough is clumsy and dark. Put it on the desk, especially at night, and feel like you are in your hometown. Before Li Bai was far away in the guest land, he liked to watch the moon. This lonely Qinghuan, facing Tangshi, I also have. In the first snow of the previous year, early in the morning I wrote two poems of "Listening to the Snow". At about the same time, I saw the picture in the circle of friends of the hometown Wenyou Fang Jiaoliang. It was he who went to Putuo Temple in the morning and saw Dao Changlao writing. The elder wrote the word "listen to the snow." I asked him for the word. This was the most direct intersection between me and the elders. I have not seen an elder or a Putuo Temple so far. The first snow of the year had just passed, and he was gone. Missed in this life, it is expected that the past life has seen and seen. He and I are both Putuo people, no place to live, ice and snow heart, should be the same. Also the year before, I saw an exhibition in the Shanghai Library and saw Zhang Leping's handwriting. I once heard Huang Yongyu say that he and Wang Zengqi taught in the suburbs of Shanghai in their early years, and they came to the city to rest and come to the city to ask Zhang Leping for dinner. Huang Yongyu wrote Zhang Leping, a long article, to me. I arranged for three issues of Asahi to be published that year.
Zhang Leping was associated with sanmao he created for a lifetime, and in his later years he met Sanmao from Taiwan
Xiao Ding was my leader, and he always invited me to dinner. Say newspaper rules, snacks old. I asked him who he ate, and he said he ate Zhang Leping's. I met Zhang Leping once. In the 1980s, Xiao Ding sent me to interview Zhang Leping. He was admitted to Huadong Hospital, lying in bed, and was very old. I introduced myself and said what I meant. He smiled and asked me, "Do you know Xiao Ding and Xu Yin?" I said, "They are my teachers, and it was Xiao Ding who asked me to come to you..." Also because of Zhang Leping, the writer Sanmao came to the newspaper where he was alive. I had the privilege of meeting her. Sanmao was curious about the fireworks he saw in the human world. She is from the same country as me, and she has the same surname as me. Her expression, the speed of her speech, the rhythm, I felt very familiar. After she came to the newspaper, she went to her hometown to worship her ancestors. Colleague Hong Weicheng accompanied him and came back to write a newsletter. Hong was a seasoned journalist, and the newsletter contained a great deal of detail, all of which he saw in his eyes. Sanmao's ancestor worship this time will definitely be preserved by these details. Sanmao is an olive tree in a dream. Thinking of her, I believe that there are very few beautiful people who live in their own hearts. Still the year before, I remembered Xu Sihai in the middle of the night. He was gone, in a hurry. Thirty years ago, at his home on Yuyuan Road, I interviewed him. I remember that Wang Qisen accompanied me. It was midsummer, and it was hot. We drank tea and talked almost shirtlessly, but we could say that we met each other with absolute sincerity. Before leaving, he gave me a pot he had made himself. In particular, he said: "If someone wants it, sell it quickly, and I don't know if it's worth it later." This can be said to be a polite remark. There are not many people who can say that. He claimed to be a scavenger, and I saw that he was ice and snow smart, and he was a person who could see the future. Just like his teacher Tang Yun. Tang Yun has ambition in his heart, and once wrote a poem saying that "every family has a thousand plans", but when he really said it, he said so: In the history of art, it is good to leave a reference to "and Tang Yun and others". Xu Sihai later did some very good things, such as effectively collecting purple sand pots from the Ming and Qing dynasties. History will record him. He was already part of the pot. If the pot is regarded as a piece of paper with a special interface, he fits it and writes well. In this world, the name is passed down from generation to generation, and it is always accumulated virtue.
There are always some people who have been in our dreams with the mountains and rivers
Then there's the year before. Watch an auction preview and see the handwriting of Liu Haisu. The note for the day reads: "See the letter as it is. Today, I also saw a handwritten letter written by Hai Lao to Zeng Tao in December 1981, which described his visit to Hong Kong. It was two months after this that I met Hai Lao for the first time at the Shanghai Mansion, and I happened to meet Zeng Tao, who was visiting. At that time, he was the president of Xinhua News Agency. Time is too fast, and it has been nearly forty years. I was 30 years old. "Liu Haisu's words, I feel that the older the writing, the better. After he suffered a stroke in his later years, he wrote large characters and slowly wrote a vertical pen with his left hand on his right wrist. The center of the divine power, the real force through the back of the paper. I've seen it with my own eyes. In fact, the Hai school painters after Liu Haisu were almost all shrouded in his majestic atmosphere. Unfortunately, in his brilliant old age, his majestic atmosphere, response and supporters were becoming few and far between. He often couldn't sleep at night, talked to his descendants, and would talk to himself from time to time, repeatedly telling about his early teachers, Kang Liang. I used to say it was his "great loneliness", but now I think it's superficial. Next is the epidemic period, more time at home, dreams upside down, joy is also refreshing. First of all, the ticket to Izukawa was refunded. I have always longed for the weather in Sichuan and want to go to Chengdu. A quicksand river alone makes me deeply convinced. Ten years ago, I annotated three hundred Tang poems, many of which involved literary and historical materials, which used the words of Jin Shengyao. Kim is my fellow countryman. I remember that in the early years, I was introduced by Situ Weizhi and came to the door to make an appointment for the manuscript of "Chaohua". His home is on Beijing West Road in Shanghai, and in the winter, the house is lit by a stove, and Liang Qichao's five words are hung on the wall, talking and talenting. The notes I wrote, partly serialized in newspapers. Liusha River once reported that I pointed out the geographical location of the Stork Tower mentioned in the Tang poem Xiaowen. The article also broke, saying that I followed Jin's statement. The old gentleman was gentle in writing, detailed in his exposition, and read like drinking Ganlin. To this day, I think of my selfishness and lightness, and I often regret having a good relationship with my husband.
Gangnam forever
At this time the year before, I was on the Fuchun River on the Diaoyutai. At dusk, linjiang is fenced. Seven mile taki, except for the faint sound of the tide, is surprisingly quiet. The mountains on the right side are angular and the sunset is glowing, and on the left, you can see where the river flows. The opposite hill is grassy and green, which is the powder copy of "Fuchun Mountain Jutu". Six hundred years ago, Huang Gongwang gladly wrote here and completed the most important painting of his life. For more than twenty years, I often came to admire the spring day of the Diaoyutai and missed a person, Yu Dafu. Unfortunately, I was born a few years late and missed the time to live with him. Fortunately, I knew Yu Dafu's son, Yu Yun. He wrote the Biography of Uddhav. I've seen pictures of Yudaf. The first time I saw Yu Yun, I was surprised. He looked too much like his father. At that time, he often came to see me at the newspaper office and corresponded frequently. I still remember the address of his letter, and his family lived on South Fujian Road, not far from the newspaper. I also have a painting of Yu Mando, with vertical stripes. High cliffs, very peculiar. He is the second brother of Yu Dafu, but like Yu Dafu, he is also a big husband and does not live forever. Yu Feng is the daughter of Yu Mantuo and the wife of Huang Miaozi. In Beijing, we ate and chatted together several times. She is cheerful, atmospheric, a wonderful writer, and a person who will not be forgotten when you meet. Staying at home and listening to the commentary, I feel like I'm back in my childhood. At that time, it was fashionable to learn to sing and comment. My cousin Xiangbao is seven years older than me, and Jiang tunes well. "Which one in the world has no mother-in-law", as soon as I opened my mouth, it made my mother and aunt cry. They had a group of people, three strings, pipas, folding fans, long shirts, and meeting all the time. They are really fond of it. It may be that the age is earlier, they are close to their predecessors, and they sing with charm and affection. I can also sing a few words, but I can't play the three strings, and I am a listener. I like to comment on the lyrics, and I have always regretted not being able to know Chen Lingxi. He is a Native of Guangdong, and he actually writes the lyrics so well. Now that I am free, I suddenly want to write. On the two evenings when the rain was blowing through the window, two opening chapters were written, "Grass Boat Borrowing Arrows" and "Xu Xian Crying Pagoda", both of which were given to Dou Fulong. Dou is an old friend of decades, and he is now a critic lyricist. I heard that he recommended these two openings to the actors, and also agreed to sing in Zhang and Xiaoyang. "Xu Xian Weeping Pagoda", because Bai Niangniang and Mengjiao have both "crying tower", are easy to confuse. Dou suggested changing it to "Lei Feng's Legacy of Hate", and I think it would be okay to change it to "Lei Feng Cry hate".
Su Shi calligraphy stone carving "Summoning Fish Pond"
It appeared after the Tang Dynasty. The reconstructed Baoshan Temple in Shanghai is built in the style of the Late Tang Dynasty. The abbot is exquisite, and the monastery does not put a link. The joint and the Vinaya are similar to each other, but inconsistent. The joint is completed, and the battle is unfinished. The confrontation in Du Fulu's poems can hardly be seen as a joint view. I feel that today people are good to be less connected. Today's people will not be or weaker than writing poetry, and it is difficult to write a couplet. It is like a two- or three-storey single-storey building, and the confrontation is part of the building. The size and scene of the two are incomparable. If only small buildings will be built, the small buildings will be built. Wan He Tang once saw Tang Dalang's writing of The Yang Lian, which was extremely wonderful: "Often after I came to the light rain, I must know that people are in the west of the corridor." "It can be seen that the poetry is unique, and writing the link is a piece of cake." The opening sentence of Li Qingzhao's "Slow Sound": "Seeking and seeking, cold and clear, miserable and miserable relatives", in the past hundred years, there have been many English translations of the text. It should be translated into vernacular first, and then translated into English. I don't know English, but when I read the vernacular text translated back, I felt that each family was talented and had reached the extreme. Idle, put together a few words, for the vernacular translation of this sentence, see the smile: I look for myself / I look for irrelevant myself / I freeze my heart and breathe / I became you and me alone / Fell into the crevices of the human world / I heard sad crying / That's me crying. Words and words have existed since ancient times. Nearly a hundred years of modern vernacular literature, still very young. I think that modern vernacular literature can only rise forever if it has the heart of ancient poetry.
Image source of this article: Xinhua News Agency
Column Editor-in-Chief: Huang Wei Text Editor: Wu Bin
Source: Author: Chen Pengju