Seeing Mount Tai from the train, there have been many times in decades. Every time I think of the phrase "Confucius climbed the East Mountain but was small, and climbed Mount Tai but was smaller than the world", I feel that I owe a debt to a long-standing cultural tradition. Du Fu's wish: "Climb to the top, and you will see that other mountains are dwarfed under the sky." Me too, but I miss it every time I come and go in a hurry.

Now it's really time to climb Mount Tai, but the weather is not beautiful. It began to rain, like falling to the ground, but in my heart. The sky is gloomy and my heart is heavy. We made an appointment to start early in the morning, and everyone arrived, but it rained harder and harder. Wait until it clears up? At first, I feel depressed when I think of the vague word "wait". Looking forward to half past eleven, the sky turned white, and I couldn't help shouting, "Let's go!" " "The young man drove, took up his backpack, and set off happily for the arch of Daizong Square.

Whether it's smoke or fog, we can't tell, it's just gray, and the boss's mountain is wrapped up. The ancient Mount Tai looks more and more Cui Wei. As soon as we passed the memorial archway of Daizongfang, the deafening roar attracted us to the dam of Hushan Reservoir. Seven floods jumped out of the bridge opening of the reservoir, like seven flashing yellow brocade, rushing down, touching jagged rocks, stirring up a piece of snow-white water droplets and scattering them on the rolling water. It is called Qiuzai Bay: It is said that Qiuzai has been rowed to the sky by Lv Dongbin, but looking at it, it seems that Qiuzai has returned to his former residence.

We bypassed the Tiger Mountain and stood on the dam bridge. On one side is calm lake water, facing the oblique wind and drizzle. We are lazy and just want to move forward. On the other hand, we are dark and evil, just like thousands of troops hidden under beautiful yellow brocade. Gold is a convenient metaphor. In fact, it is a kind of fine yarn with no warp and weft. Transparent white gauze lightly presses transparent beige pattern. Perhaps only the Weaver Girl can weave this magnificent scenery.

It rained heavily, so we turned into Qizhen Temple behind the Queen Mother Temple. There are seven statues here, Lv Dongbin in front, his friends Li Tie and He Xiangu on both sides, and his four disciples on the east and west sides, so it is called the Seven Treasures Temple. Lv Dongbin and his two friends are fine. The two children standing in the niche and the old man opposite the willow essence are really rare and vivid works. Generally, the statues in temples are either flat or grotesque, with beautiful shapes occasionally, and unlike China people, they can't keep up with the vividness and kindness of the elderly. Unknown sculptors have a deep understanding of the differences in age and appearance, and the image will be so vivid. It's not that young people remind me that it's time to go, but that I will continue to be grateful.

Jun Qing's Ode to Autumn Colors

Just after the autumnal equinox, I feel cool suddenly. Going for a walk at the seaside in the morning seems to feel that the blue sea is bluer than before; God, it's a little higher than before.

Looking back at the Gu Mo Ridge, oh, the autumn colors are getting stronger. What lovely autumn colors! I really don't understand why Ouyang Xiu described autumn so cold and gloomy when he wrote Ode to Autumn Sound. In my opinion, the bright spring scenery of flowers and trees is lovely, but the autumn colors of fruits and vegetables are even more gratifying.

Autumn is more prosperous than spring.

Autumn is more colorful than spring.

Look, the persimmon trees in the western ravine are so beautiful in red. It's like a fire, bright red. Many poets and painters in ancient and modern times praised the color of maple leaves. However, compared with persimmon trees, maple leaves are not inferior.

There are apples, the famous red banana apples at home and abroad, which are also so red, so bright and so lovely; Dajinshuai Apple is glittering with the color of Huang Chengcheng; Hawthorn trees are covered with red fruits like red agate; On the other hand, grapes are more colorful. The kind called "Crystal" is long, green and crystal clear. It really looks like it is carved with crystal and jade. There is also the red rose, which is bright in purple, round and lovely, like a string of purple pearls. ……

Oh! What a charming autumn scenery!

I like this gorgeous autumn color, because it represents maturity, prosperity and prosperity, and also represents happiness, joy and prosperity.

Ah, what charming and brilliant autumn colors, what an exciting and prosperous scene! Here, we simply can't see the bleak scenery described by Ouyang Xiu as "its color is bleak and the smoke is getting thicker" ... its meaning is gloomy and the mountains and rivers are lonely ",and we can't see the sad autumn artistic conception of" the brave man is a tree and the black man is a star ".

What I see is colorful harvest scenery and vigorous prosperity. Because here, autumn is not a symbol of aging, but a symbol of prosperity. Writing here, I suddenly understood why Ouyang Xiu described autumn so sadly, because what he wrote was not only autumn in the season, but also the reflection of the author's time and social thought. I can boldly say that if Ouyang Xiusheng were alive today, his Ode to Autumn Sound would definitely be another content and another color.

I like autumn.

I love the autumn of our time.

ba jin star

In a collection of Belgian short stories, I came across this sentence:

"Stars, beautiful stars, you are rolling in boundless space, so am I, I know you ... Yes, I know you ... I am a person ... a person with feelings ... a painful person ... stars, beautiful stars ..." I understand the sad mood of a Belgian station employee. Many people have talked to the stars in the blue sky in this way. They are all unfortunate people in the world. The stars always give them great comfort.

On a small stage in Shanghai, I saw Turgenev written by German musician Meng. He either sits in front of the piano, pinning his noblest feelings on music and presenting them to a person; Or standing under the blue sky, shaking his white-haired head and admiringly saying, "You beautiful star, you pure star." Looking at the countless stars shining like pupils in the blue sky, his eyes were moist.

I know the old musician's tears. This should be the spring rain that irrigates the soul.

Outside my room, there is a blue sky that is not covered by roof tiles. I looked up and saw some stars embedded in the sky. I often stare at those beautiful stars with ecstasy. They are like a person's eyes, looking at me affectionately and never getting tired. Every moment these eyes move, it's like giving me a blessing.

The stars will not fall in my sky. My eyes are moist at the thought of this.

Ba Jin Gou

I was afraid of dogs when I was a child. I remember one Chinese New Year, I went to my uncle's house to play. In his garden, a big black dog chased me and ran across several flower beds. Later, I went to the foreign building to escape this robbery and didn't let the dog bite my leg.

When I see a dog in the future, I always run, it always chases and often looks at my shadow and barks. The more scared I am, the more fierce the dog is.

Fear of dogs has become a disease of mine.

I'm growing up. One day, for some reason, I suddenly felt ashamed of being afraid of dogs. When I saw the dog, I stopped running.

When I stopped, so did the dog. It looked at me and cried. It opened its mouth and made it look like it was going to pounce. But it's not a step forward for me.

It glared at me, and I glared at it. It always keeps me away from it.

After a while, I turned and left. The dog caught up at once.

I look back. The dog stopped at once. It looked at me screaming, but did not dare to jump on me.

"That's all you can do," I thought, feeling bolder. I looked at it contemptuously, stamped my foot and cursed it.

It took two steps back, but this time it showed a scared expression. It will still bark, but its bark is not as "evil" as before.

I hate this tangled cry. I picked up a stone on the ground and threw it at the dog.

The stone hit the dog, and the dog whined as if it hurt somewhere. He immediately turned and ran away, with his tail between his legs, before my second stone hit him on the head.

I looked at the escaped dog and sneered contemptuously.

From then on, the dog ran away as soon as it touched my stone.

Yu's Book of Changes

Or the pyramids.

According to the correspondence and foresight of various building data contained in the pyramid and the operation law of celestial bodies, some modern scholars assert that this is a kind of wisdom will of the ancients for future generations.

This, in my words, is that they are like the Book of Changes made of huge stones. Future generations can read well, but if they can't, they will be alone in a corner, waiting for more distant future generations.

When the impossible has become a reality, it may be said that the pyramid has a local subversive energy for the common sense of literature and history that we have already talked about. At least, it points out that we should have more grammars to explain the meaning of civilization, not just the increase of vocabulary under one grammar.

Maybe it can be partly explained, but unfortunately, Europeans have done two unforgivable bad things.

First, in 47 BC, when Caesar captured Egypt, he burned 700,000 books in the library of Alexandria, including the famous History of Egypt.

The second thing is worse. More than 400 years later, in 390 AD, the Roman emperor banned paganism and dispersed the only priest class in Egypt who could read ancient Chinese characters. As a result, all the ancient books and monuments soon became unreadable.

If the first thing is similar to Qin Shihuang burning books, then the second thing is just the opposite, because Qin Shihuang unified the China script, which is equivalent to establishing a "universal code" covering the land of China, and ancient history is no longer partially annihilated because no one interprets it. It should be noted that the greatest annihilation is not the loss of books, but the loss of their ability to interpret words.

Here I have seen at least one technical reason for the interruption of Egyptian civilization and the continuation of China civilization. On the first day of junior high school, writing is just a tool, but China is so big, its composition is so complicated, its dialect system is so strong, and its regional concept, ethnic concept and gate concept are so strong that even agricultural tools, tools, accents and diet cannot be unified. How difficult it is to unify words! In other civilized places, the biggest trouble faced by modern archaeologists is the recognition of ancient Chinese characters. It often takes decades to guess a few, some of which are basically unreadable today, but this did not happen in China, and even Oracle Bone Inscriptions quickly deciphered them.

I think that the so-called broken civilization was not the abandonment of the ancient city crib at first, but a large piece of black ancient characters that I didn't know what it meant at all. For this reason, standing by the Nile, I miss Qin Shihuang a little.

When Pharaoh mummified the corpse, Egyptian history was mummified, but Qin Shihuang kept the history of China alive. We are now reading thousands of years of ancient books, just like reading letters just sent by friends who like classical Chinese, which is unimaginable in other civilizations.

Standing in front of the pyramid, my greatest feeling about Egyptian culture is: I only know how it declined, but I don't know how it was established; I only know how it left, but I don't know how it came.

Just like a giant who came out of nowhere, he fell to the ground silently after several wonderful tricks, touched his pocket and left no name, place of origin or will. How awesome!

People are forbidden to climb the pyramids, but no one can stop them from climbing the next eight and nine levels. I climbed a few steps, looked up close to my body and looked up for a long time. After thousands of years of "doing the old", it has lost the neatness of any details, all right angles have become stiff, and all straight lines have become trembling pens, so it is like a natural product falling from the sky, but on the whole, uneven details are still integrated into the straight pen.

In silence, the pyramid opened two strokes, and China wrote the word "person". The two strokes are steep and neat, with the top pointing directly at the sun, which is dazzling, and only white clouds are politely set off on the half slope.

I heard Xu Gehui say "forever" in front of the camera, as if he mentioned that they would do the same in five thousand years. This inspired me to think that the pyramid still refuses to reveal why it should be so eternal, but it reveals what eternity is.

Always simple, always bumpy, always firm and straightforward, always occupied by the intersection of desert and aquatic plants, and always accepted and declined by the Millennium sandstorm.

Interpretation is the tragedy of Egyptian civilization, but for the pyramids themselves, it is more permanent than those cultural relics that are easy to interpret. Popularity is the channel for others to invade, and logic is the ladder for future generations to step on. Simply put, it is indifference and silence, which also builds a barrier. Therefore, it can be added that permanence is the burial of intention, which makes complex logic simple.

19991On the afternoon of October 9th, I stayed at les 3 pyramides Hotel in Cairo, Egypt.

Ba Jin's fire

There was only a slight snoring on the boat, and the small square light hanging on the ceiling suddenly went out. I sat up, pushed open the small window next to me and saw a gray light. I don't know what time it is or where the ship is parked. I seem to be still dreaming, and the nightmare is weighing heavily on my head. My eyes are all red. I put my head out of the window, a light blue river quietly crossed the window, and a mountain shadow painted in ink rose in the distance. I just looked at the water. My head surfaced. At first it was a dark shadow, and then it was covered with a bright red. I wiped my eyes and my head was reflected in the water. There is no light, and everything seems to be asleep. The sky looks low. Some stars are especially bright. The water flowed slowly at the bottom of the boat. I put my hand into the water, which was very cold. I looked around for a long time. At these times, the scenery in front of us seems to have never moved; It's just that the air is getting colder and colder, and only a red light shines occasionally, but when I concentrate on capturing the red light, I only see a pile of sleeping mountain shadows.

I put my head back into the cabin, it was dark inside, and the breath of people rushed into my nostrils. It smells like a hand scratching my chest. I took a breath out of the window and closed the small window. Suddenly the friend next to him spoke loudly: "Look, what a big fire!" " "I looked at my friend in surprise. I can't see anything. My friend is still sleeping. He just moved, as if he turned over. At this time, there was not even a sound.

The hut is a dark world, with no light and no fire. But why do friends also shout "Look at the fire"? Did he have the same dream as me? I want to wake him up and find out. I'll push his arm. He just snorted and turned to sleep on the other side. The friend who sleeps next to him has been snoring. Snoring is not high or urgent, as if sleeping well.

I felt uncomfortable with my eyes, and my eyelids seemed to be getting heavier and heavier. It was a little hard to keep my eyes open, so I fell on the deck and planned to close my eyes and sleep. I just closed my eyes when I suddenly heard that friend shout out the word "fire"! I was taken aback again and held my breath before listening. His mouth shut again.

I leaned my head on the pillow and looked around the hut. My eyes are getting familiar with the darkness. I can see several shadows, and I can tell the colors of blankets and thread blankets. The basket hanging at the stern swayed slightly with the hull in mid-air, as if there was a white man snooping there. The cabin is stuffy. Snoring gradually increased, covered by the canopy, unable to rush out. It seems that they are all piled up in the cabin and filled the whole cabin. They are coming at me with unpleasant smells, which makes me breathless. I can't close my eyes or calm my heart. I want to struggle. I started to turn over and keep turning. It's no use. I feel more embarrassed and suffocated.

Then the same sound "fire" sounded in my ear again! My eyes are red again. My friend slept soundly and didn't speak. This is my own voice. The fire in my dream is still chasing me. I can't take it anymore. I immediately pushed open the quilt and fled outside the cabin.

There is a man sleeping outside the hut. He seems to be sleeping quietly, and my footsteps didn't break his dream. The boat floats on the calm water, the water is sparkling, surrounded by pale Moshan, protecting the river and two or three sleeping wooden boats like a screen.

I stood in the hatch. The river touched the bottom of the boat and kept whispering. A gust of wind blew head-on, and the canopy wept gently. I feel more comfortable breathing. But with snoring, the word "fire" was issued in the cabin.

I made a cold silence, which was my own voice again, the "fire" in my own dream!

It chased me for four years!

On the day when Shanghai fell four years ago, I once looked across the river at the fire on the other side. I look like I'm watching the burning city of Rome. Houses were reduced to ashes, lives were destroyed and land was ravaged. There is a boiling sea of fire before my eyes. I have never seen such a big fire. It destroyed everything: life, hard work, wealth and hope. But it has something to do with me. The burning land is where I live; Those who suffer are my compatriots and my brothers; What is ruined is my hope and my ideal. The ideals of this country are suffering. I looked at the red light all over the sky and felt a knife cutting my heart. I remembered the famous saying of a western philosopher: "A few minutes like this will arouse hatred for ten years and revenge for a lifetime." I gritted my teeth and swore in my heart that one day we must return to this place with our heads held high. We will open a beautiful garden on the fire. When I left the river bank, I was swallowing tears, and I seemed to see a new phoenix in the fire.

Four years. Tonight, on the wooden boat back from Yangshuo, I had that terrible fire dream again. On the calm river, I saw the fire scene in Shanghai four years ago. In the past four years, I have never forgotten such a day, and there has never been a time when I don't want to come back. Is the day of victory near? Or is my enthusiasm beginning to fade and I need fire to help it burn? Is the word "fire" read by my friend in his sleep a warning or a prophecy to me? ……

I looked back at the hut in fear. My friends are asleep, and no one gives me an answer. As soon as I turned my head, I caught a glimpse of a bright shadow flying over my head towards the saddle-shaped hill ahead. This is the phoenix in the fire: my eyes follow the illusion in my head. I think, I thought of our suffering land and people, and I smiled with tears in my eyes. At this moment, it seems that the whole river, the whole sky and countless hills are illuminated.

1941came back from Yangshuo on September 22nd and wrote it in Guilin.

Autumn Night (Lu Xun)

In my backyard, you can see two trees outside the wall, one is jujube, and the other is jujube. The night sky overhead is strange and high. I have never seen such a strange and high sky in my life. He seems to be leaving this world, so that people will never see his back again. However, now it is blue, with dozens of stars flashing, and it is cold. He laughed off his quarrel as if he thought it was meaningful and sprinkled countless frost on the wild flowers and plants in my garden.

I don't know what the real names of those flowers and plants are and what people call them. I remember a little pink flower. It is still in full bloom, but it is smaller. In the cold air at night, she timidly dreamed of the arrival of spring and autumn. She dreamed that the thin poet wiped tears on the last petal and told her that although autumn came, winter came and then spring came. Hu Die flies around, and bees are singing the songs of spring. She went on laughing, and though her face was red with cold, she still winced.

Jujube trees, they just lost all their leaves. Before, one or two children came to pick up dates left by others. Now there is not a leaf left, even the leaves have fallen. He knows that the dream of pink flowers needs spring after autumn. He also knows that the dream of falling leaves is to go to Qiu Lai in spring. He lost almost all the leaves, leaving only qianzi. However, he took off the arc when the tree was full of fruits and lush foliage, and he was very comfortable. However, some branches are still low, protecting the skin injury he got from the tip of jujube, while the straightest and longest branches have been stabbing the strange and high sky silently like the subway, making the sky shine; Stabbed the full moon in the sky, making the moon pale with embarrassment.

The sky in the ghost's eyes is getting bluer and more uneasy, as if to leave this world and avoid jujube trees, leaving only the moon. However, the moon also sneaked to the east. But qianzi, who had nothing, still stabbed the strange and high sky silently like a subway, bent on killing him, no matter how many pairs of bewitched eyes he had.

Wow, a bad bird that swims at night flies by.

I suddenly heard laughter in the middle of the night and ate all over the floor. I don't seem to want to disturb the sleeping people, but the air around me should smile. In the middle of the night, there is no one else. I immediately recognized the voice in my mouth, and I was immediately driven away by laughter and returned to my room. The ribbon of the lamp was immediately turned over by me.

The glass in the back window is ringing up and down, and there are many small flying insects bumping around. Soon after, a few came in, probably from a hole in the enough paper. As soon as they went in, they ran into the glass lampshade. One crashed into it from above, so I met a fire. I thought the fire was real. Two or three of them leaned against the paper cover of the lamp and gasped. The cover was just changed last night. It is made of snow-white paper, folded with wavy lines and painted with a scarlet gardenia in one corner.

When the scarlet gardenia blooms, the jujube tree will dream of a small pink flower, which will bend into an arc. I heard laughter in the middle of the night; I quickly stopped thinking and looked at the little caterpillar wrapped in white paper, with a big head and a small tail, like a sunflower seed, only half a grain of wheat, and the color of the whole body was lovely and pitiful. I yawned, lit a cigarette, exhaled smoke, and silently paid tribute to these green and exquisite heroes in front of the lamp.

1September, 924 15.

Autumn (Li Guangtian)

Life has been like this prose in the past. Although there was a so-called "surge" in that early spring, like the first lover's mood, after that, the ship floated on the slow current forever. Summer is the most common season. People will feel full of energy when they look at the dark green Woods and even the flowers as red as their remarried mother's lips. This enrichment is tantamount to "ending", and people will not stare silently or meditate. It seems that the scorched sun is like driving people into the cracks in the wall, which is even more annoying than winter.

It's autumn now. Compared with spring, spring is the road to "life", which makes me feel extremely uneasy, because I am too weak to even resist the changes of natural seasons. Why don't I work after listening to songs in the street? Why did you run out the door when you heard the sound of raindrops? A bud, a wet cloud, why do you feel crazy? I hate that I can't get along with it. This makes me too unstable. I love it, but I also hate it, that is, I don't miss it until summer is mature. But now, this autumn, I don't remember what kind of love spring is. Only when I saw the yellow leaves on that branch, I was still thinking: this is also like the phrase "green willows and yellow are half uneven", in fact, it is all like this. I don't want to say that autumn is the road to death-please forgive my careless arrangement-Yining can add a "dead end" to summer, but autumn, even the dark winter, is not the road to life. Compared with spring and summer, I say it is the road of "life".

I would say that fallen leaves make a living by falling, and the branches under the ice and snow are brewing the liquid of life. And their calm power, their performance for the future and life, how does this make me feel? This season is my favorite.

But I prefer autumn to winter. Yes, now. I think it's just the rhythm of my song. I can hardly tell why autumn is better than winter. Maybe it's because a few yellow leaves on that branch, or a few residual flowers on that hedge, are more vivid than winter. Otherwise, it reminds me of life. A yellow leaf and a remnant English are connecting the past and the future. They will make people stare, ponder, think and have hope for life. In this way, people feel the real existence. Past, present and future, the world is real, life is real, everything is real, all dreams and fantasies are useless, and useless things are thrown away one by one. We should silently pray for life and plan some real things.

In my mind, I often think that life is not easy, but we are happy to do this difficult job. It's really difficult, but maybe it's because of it that it makes sense. I don't think the so-called "love life and hate death" means: "I would rather be born in the world than die underground." If it's not funny, I think I should say, "I'd rather walk on the road than stop on the road." Death is nothing to fear, not evil, terrible and hateful, and it is the most meaningless. Isn't that just a stopover? In this way, life is on the road. There is hope in the future, and the road is long, but it's Xiu Yuan. I hope the little people are blessed, because they can rest early, but they are also the most unfortunate, because they stopped halfway, so they might as well go underground. What about those who have great hopes? Are they also blessed? By no means, they are even more unfortunate. However, the happiness and misfortune of city people have no absolute significance. Who knows happiness and misfortune? The road is long and there is great hope, but the thorns on the road and the disadvantages of hands and feet are what we call human suffering. But this road is to go, because people are walking on the road. Only those who have really tasted the hardships of life can truly know the happiness of life, and those who deeply feel such suffering and happiness truly mean "real survival". Isn't that enough? If you don't think it's enough, or you don't need it, then I don't know what you're looking for-a fairy or a demon?

It's a bit far, but fortunately my article has no purpose. Now I try to pull it back. Life is on the road, and hope is the beacon on the road. However, what is pushing forward behind, or what often spurs people behind? Here, let's take a look at this autumn! Really, unconsciously, autumn has arrived. The red flowers have turned purple and gray, and the gray ones are about to fall. A yellow leaf is swinging on the branch, and you will feel that it is in danger of falling down immediately. When you stumble on the dead leaves on the ground and hear the rustling sound, suddenly a fallen leaf gently slides over your shoulder and flies down. Maybe you will only read, "I left it behind!" " When you walk into the wilderness and see withered grass, you may just say, "withered!" " "However, my friends, you may not have thought that the west wind will come so early and should not be so cold. However, your thin clothes are hard to stop. " The whole family is in the autumn wind, and the clothes are not cut in September. "Here, it is the off-season every year, and it is backward every year. It's no use complaining about the ruthlessness of time, what's more terrible is the accident of life. At this time, people can't help tilting their heels and craning their necks to see the "lighthouse on the road". "Right here, the whip comes from behind. The name of this whip is "terror". The vitality is weak, and I haven't cut my clothes for my life, but the west wind is cold enough!

I really don't want to see that leaf fall, but I know it is an "inevitable" thing, so I will cherish that yellow leaf more and be more kind to autumn. When people find their hair falling off gradually, don't they cherish it? Similarly, it is in this autumn that it means our life. Spring once gave people hope, but autumn gave them more distant hope. Autumn gave them a sense of stability and a terrible whip, because when people saw Mr. Qiu's face, they couldn't help looking in the mirror.

It is this dying autumn that gives people further hope, spurs forward, realizes the reality of life and gives people the power of "calmness". I suffer from autumn, and I have been a friend for many years for this bleak autumn.