In March, when the flowers were in full bloom, I went south to Yangzhou.

Xiong zhaozheng

When I was a child, I recited the quatrains of A Farewell to Meng Haoran's trip to Yangzhou by Li Bai, a poet in the Tang Dynasty. When I was a child, I just felt good and couldn't say it. After middle age, I realized that the beauty of this poem lies in the sentence "Fireworks descend in Yangzhou in March".

Yangzhou was called Guangling in ancient times, and people also called it Weiyang. Before the Qing Dynasty, Yangzhou was always known as the hub of North and South and the famous country of Huaizuo, because it was close to the Grand Canal. According to today's geographical concept, Yangzhou is in northern Jiangsu, not in the south of the Yangtze River. But the ancients came by boat from the north, and when they entered Yangzhou, they felt Jiangnan psychologically. Emperor Qianlong visited Jiangnan six times, and his first stop was Yangzhou. Jiangnan is bounded by the Yangtze River. In this sense, Yangzhou is not Jiangnan, but located in the south of Huaihe River, which is a land that is neither south nor north. Yangzhou's humanistic atmosphere and landscape are all near the south and far north. Du Mu's poem in Yangzhou, "Twenty-four Bridges on a Moonlight Night, Where do Jade People Teach Xiao", is by no means a situation that can be produced in the cold north.

In the history of Yangzhou, from the Sui Dynasty to the Qing Dynasty for more than a thousand years, although it was repeatedly killed by soldiers, it did not hide its prosperous and splendid weather. Generally, a city, like a person, has different fates, good and bad. Some people have been down and out all their lives and have been poured cold water; Some people are successful when they are young, but they will not be blamed when they are old. Yangzhou belongs to the category of "how difficult it is for noble people". Compared with Hangzhou and Suzhou, it was ravaged the most. But every time you are ravaged, you can always regain your vitality. I'm lucky to be alive. These eight words are also suitable for Yangzhou.

There are many books and records about the prosperity of Yangzhou in ancient times. But the best one is "Painting a Boat in Yangzhou" written by Mr. Li Dou during the Qianlong period of the Qing Dynasty. Hangzhou and Suzhou are paradise on earth, and there are more events worth recording than Yangzhou. However, Zhang Dai's Dream of the West Lake and Lu Gu's Leaning on the Bridge are not as good as Li Dou's. Although Zhang Dai is a very talented person, as a recorder of a city, his textual research and explanation are not as hard as Li Dou's. After Li Dou, another Yangzhou man, Jiao Xun, wrote A Collection of Yangzhou Paintings, which is also a good book. But the taste of history is too strong, and it is probably difficult for people who don't specifically review the past to understand.

The most desirable places in ancient Yangzhou are Little Qinhuai and Slender West Lake. Its prosperity, its beauty, its romance and its tenderness are all described in detail in Yangzhou Painting Boat. The name of the West Lake was borrowed from Hangzhou, and the name of Qinhuai was borrowed from Nanjing, but the word "thin" and "small" was added in front of it, which became the characteristic of Yangzhou. I have been trying to figure out the psychology of Yangzhou people. There are so many loud words in the world. Why do they prefer "thin" and "small"? These two words are used for people and things, and they are not taboo. We say that "this man is thin and small", which is a bit unfavorable for his reuse; Saying "he is good at small things" implies shortsightedness. At present, there is a general trend, whether it is to name the company or to attract investment for the project, the name has been raised. Three people set up a table and a computer, but the business card issued was "Asian consulting company"; The hall with two or three tables is called "food street". In short, blow as hard as you can. According to this principle, Slender West Lake can be called "Great West Lake" or "Golden West Lake", and small Qinhuai can also be called "China Qinhuai" or "Silver Qinhuai". In the ancient city of Yangzhou, although there are many merchants who turn the stone into gold, the smell of copper does not cover up this book. They are responsible for naming the landscape tower. They must be scholars like Li Dou and Jiao Xun. These two names are the most intriguing: when the West Lake is thin, it has a delicate taste; Qinhuai is small, but also has the feeling of small jasper. In this way, the landscape has become a beautiful family, and Yangzhou City is particularly poetic.

If so, the topic goes back to "Yangzhou Fireworks in March". Knowing the geography and history of Yangzhou, you will know when is the best season to go to Yangzhou. Because there is no red maple, there are no magnificent winding peaks and valleys that match the red maple. It is of little significance to go to Yangzhou in autumn. Du Mu said that "the grass in the south of the Yangtze River has not withered in autumn", and not dying does not mean hiding and losing the smell of vegetation. The March of Yingfeiyan's language is different: the people in the water town on the bank of Yangliu, the Jianghua Cao Jiang in the depths of the blue waves; Gardens, pavilions, temples and boats are all shrouded in misty rain. At this time in Yangzhou, the outlines of those hard houses were softened by hazy rain and fog, and the fragrance of bluegrass flowers floated in the winding alleys. It turns out that the boat on the lake, the clock in the Buddhist temple, and every detail have made Jiangnan's articles to the extreme.

The phrase "480 halls in the southern dynasties, misty rain and terraced fields" makes our oriental aesthetic interest like a dream. In Yangzhou in March, we can find this dream.

For this dream, I had the idea of setting off fireworks in Yangzhou in March. Last year, I asked where I could rent a boat, and invited Eelsen Friendship to set off under the Yellow Crane Tower, to sing poetry and paint all the way, and to listen to the piano and play the flute to Yangzhou. As a result, I was told that there is no waterway from Wuhan to Yangzhou. Later, it was found that starting from Hangzhou or Suzhou, Yangzhou could be reached from the canal. I'm interested again. I want my friend to find a painting boat. Things didn't work out, because although this section of the canal was clear, except for the merchant ships carrying goods, the sails of passengers had long since disappeared.

It occurred to me that it was impossible to visit Yangzhou in the Tang Dynasty by boat on the misty and rainy river. The prosperity of Yangzhou is still there, but the romance of the Tang Dynasty is gone. If you want to appreciate today's vibrant Yangzhou, you can only drive by car from the expressway.

Books on rainy days

Zhang Xiaofeng

⒈

I don't know why it began to rain for no reason. The thin mist separated the mountain from the trees farther away, leaving only a vast space outside my window.

I think it must be very cold there, right? Another kind of fragrance. The water drops rolled on the blue roof, and the dripping sound was monotonous and dull. Do you feel lonely?

Your letter is still on my dresser, folded into a square, still the handprint of that day. I haven't seen you before; I can't find you anymore. All I can have is this vague trace. The other party, what about you? You don't have a word from me. I pick up a pen and no one can pass it on for me.

In winter, Nan Xin came with your letter. Oblique handwriting, elegant and gentle writing. I am glad to read your letter. I put it with some other letters. They always give me encouragement and confidence, and let me know that when I write under the lamp, I am not really lonely.

Fangfang, I didn't answer your letter right away. I am old and busy. What's the use of regret? If I had known that you wrote that letter before you died, I would have talked to you, accompanied you out for a walk and watched the sunset together. But how can I imagine? Seventeen, how can it have anything to do with death? Death, such a cold and gloomy word, should never have sex with you. The play ended too early, and the audience had to look at the closed black velvet curtain in the later stage.

It's still raining, banging on my window frequently. Rain makes the world gloomy, and I can't help but imagine you holding an umbrella. Never walk on the grass road without legs, through life, through death, through eternity.

There was a winter vacation at that time. Fangfang, I have been thinking about you in my heart. I just can't find Nan Xin, and no one has sent a message to her. When school started, I found Nan Xin. She cried when I asked about you. Fangfang, I have never hated myself so much. Fangfang, which street should I send you a letter to now? Who knows your new address?

Nan Xin sent the last note you left her. Take it and let me die. The other party, what am I? Like you, I am a guest sent to this world for sightseeing. I am surprised to see the green mountains and green waters, life and knowledge. On the other hand, what am I particularly worth seeing? It's just that when I look at these things, I am more impulsive than others, so I can't help but record them.

What am I really worth knowing? None of those maddening things were created by me or managed by me, and my only records were fragmented and almost completely out of shape. Why do you want my letter?

"When she died, she had no regrets," Nancy said, "except that she didn't receive your letter. Can you write her a letter? -I believe in Jesus, and I think Jesus will give it to her. "

She is so naive that I want to write to you. I have always wanted to write. I gave her my letter, but I don't think you need it anymore. What are you doing at the moment? Are you playing with a winged angel? Or take the soft white clouds as a portrait? Have you ever shaped mine? Otherwise, you must be listening to Jin Qin's tapping in Mao Mei Garden.

On the other hand, in my imagination, you are a delicate and sad shadow with delicate light yellow skin, heavy eyebrows and eyes, and thin lips (but not talkative), right? I often wear a light blue dress, and I like to watch the rain outside the curtain and get lost in thought, right? On the other hand, maybe we really shouldn't meet, so that I can imagine you more truly.

On the other hand, the rain is still falling, and the faint sadness is falling in the rain. The grass on the cemetery should have been green long ago, but you didn't see it this spring. Imagine a small white flower on your grave, transparent and pale, sobbing weakly in the rain.

And in the sky, in that splendid spiritual realm, is there sunshine, fallen flowers and music? Fangfang, please lower your face and look at us and the place where you grew up. Maybe you'll find it funny. Turn your head away at once. You will be surprised to say to yourself, "How could I be so stupid in those years?" Actually, don't all those things look funny? "

Look, Fangfang, I have written so many letters. Yes, actually, writing these letters is also very funny. You'll never need these. But I still want to write. I promised to write.

Or, tomorrow morning, the little angel will put a small white flower in front of your window with countless silver raindrops rolling on it.

"What is this?"

"We found this on the ground. A man wrote you a letter. We don't want to bring such a bad word in, so we have to turn it into a small white flower-you see, everything she wrote is in it. "

That little simple white flower is shaking in your hand. On the other hand, what did you think at that time? It said everything, and at the same time, it said nothing. It is white, vaguely shaking, vaguely shaking the color you loved before your death.

At that time, I want to see your smile, faint and shallow, reflected in the water drops between the flowers-that I have never seen or imagined.

⒉

Outside the detailed curtain in Hunan, there was a gurgling sound, and the rain curtain was intertwined vertically, thus weaving such a hazy and gloomy afternoon.

Two children carrying schoolbags are running, jumping and chasing on the mountain road. They don't look like pedestrians in the rain, but they seem to be celebrating the water-splashing festival. After a while, they disappeared behind the bushes, and the wet green fields and low sky reappeared in front of me.

With a pen in his hand, the paper is full of heads. Wang, who studied psychology last time, said that what people draw is mostly a portrayal of themselves. My portraits are all meditative, with a sympathetic smile on my lips. So, are these all me? Are these people wearing long skirts, holding a folding fan in their right hand and a small flower parasol in their left hand? Hey, am I like that?

A piece of writing paper is spread on the glass plate, white and thin. I owe too much. Who will return it first today? The rain at dusk is so sad. Thousands of soft fingers touch an invisible string, gently fiddling and winding it, and always touch a desolate and sad place.

So, who is the letter for today? Who wants to see the gray misty rain? However, LAN is not in front of my eyes. How should I write this letter?

Tell you what, send it to yourself, the lost self. Give it to the girl who listened to her little brother talk about Cinderella, and give it to the middle school students who read Xinfeng Folding Arm Weng with their father. To the dreamer who sits quietly by the water, to the person who meditates in front of the window.

But where is she? Just like those two children who were playing on the mountain road just now, suddenly, they couldn't catch up. What about me? Where are you hiding behind the bushes?

Listen, it's raining so softly. Isn't this the rain you want? I remember that time, you stood in the backyard and looked up and let the rain fall on your open mouth. It was really funny. You like to get up early in the morning and go to Xiaoye to look for rain beads. I carefully put it on the chemistry mat where I was writing arithmetic. I was as happy as a plate full of jewels. You are a very rich boy, really.

When did you walk into the middle school campus again? Listening to the long thunder and watching squirrels jump from branch to branch under the old trees that cover the sun, you suddenly become happy. Your joy has a kind of simplicity and enthusiasm, which makes you feel like dancing. But when the sky suddenly turns black and the storm comes with rain, you suddenly calm down with a pious awe. You like rain. You always do.

That summer, the flower trees at the back of the classroom were particularly beautiful. You and Zhi both found them at the same time. The twig was hung down by a string of yellow flowers to the window of the small building. Whenever it rains, those flowers become transparent and beautiful. When class was over that day, you and Zhi stood at the window. Flowers are in the rain, rain is in the flowers, and you are reversed by those sounds and colors. But gradually, those sounds and colors fade away quietly, and you are lost in the dreams of the early years of your life. When I came back, the classroom was empty, and I remembered that music class, and all the students had left. Fortunately, the teacher scolded you that day-but he shouldn't have scolded you. You are listening to the Summer Rain and Flowers suite!

Gradually you will be sad. At night, you can't help listening to the faint rain of bamboo leaves; At the beginning of autumn, you barely read "Leaving Residual Lotus to Listen to the Rain", and you vaguely pieced together some sadness for yourself. What are you worried about? You can't answer-you still can't answer. You can't help liking those bleak scenery, and you can't protect yourself from that melancholy infection. Actually, you don't have to be so sentimental. You see, other people are busy with their own affairs, but you have to worry about that irrelevant worry.

As you grow older, you will meet some people, but rarely see that you are calm and always look at those who have to be calm with disdain. In you, love is blazing, hate is frozen, sympathy is deep, and sadness is layered. But who knows? People always say you are quiet, but they think you are gentle, and they will never understand, so you love the sunshine and appreciate that kind of light; You like rain so much because you are eager for it. But who knows?

When you read the name "You must know why" in The Analects of Confucius, your blood suddenly overflowed and you couldn't settle down for a few days. You have never experienced such a heavy rain-in your mind and heart. You seem to see the saint wandering all his life, so you have a partial hunch about your own destiny. But at the same time, you can't help feeling gratified, because a long time ago, an idea you wanted to express appeared in an ancient book two thousand years ago. Until now, when I think of this sentence, I can't help but be excited. You're ridiculous, you.

Looking through the window, the sound of rain is unclear and dusk has passed. It's just that the clear sound continues, like symbols extending from the music score. So, tonight is another rainy night. Where are you? Do you want to sleep tonight? Take me to some old place for a walk! Did the ancient city wall of Nanjing slide? Have the mountains and waters in Liuzhou peeled off?

When is the next letter? I don't know. When I am old one day, I may write you a long letter! I don't want you to receive a letter of condemnation. How I look forward to writing a thank-you letter and a compliment letter! Just, were you worth it at that time?

The rain is ticking, sparse and beautiful. In a casual glance, I suddenly found that the light in the small room was so gentle; At the same time, in a casual review, your childish brilliance also shines in the distance. What about me? Where is my lamp? Really, where's my light? Many years later, when the lamp on my desk burned out, is there any other light in the world? Oh, my friend, I don't know that much. I only hope that you and I will still shine at that time, in every dark and cold rainy night.

Qing Tang he yun

ji xianlin

There are several acres of clear ponds in front of the building. I remember that when I first moved here more than 30 years ago, there seemed to be lotus flowers in the pond, and there were still some broken shadows of green leaves and safflower in my memory. Later, things changed, and the years passed, but the pond became "half an acre of square pond opened, the sky was high and the clouds were light", and the lotus flowers were never seen again.

I keep a lot of old ideas in my mind. Every time I look at an empty pond, I always feel as if something is missing. This is not in line with my aesthetic concept. There should be something green in the pond, even reeds are better than nothing. The best and most ideal is of course the lotus. In China's old poems, there are simply too many descriptions of lotus flowers. Zhou Dunyi's "

Ailian said.

What readers don't know is probably unique. His famous phrase "everyone knows that the fragrance disappears and the jade dies." It can almost be said that there is no one in China who doesn't love lotus flowers. But the pond in front of our building is the only one lacking lotus flowers. Every time I see or think about it, I always feel that I am a heart disease.

Someone came from Hubei and brought some lotus seeds from Honghu Lake. The shell is black and hard. It is said that if buried in mud, it can be preserved for thousands of years. So, I used a hammer to crack a crack in the lotus seed, so that the shower head would break out of its shell and never be buried in the mud. These are subjective wishes, and it is extremely unknown whether the lotus buds can come out. Anyway, I finally tried my best to put five or six broken lotus seeds into the pond. This is my destiny.

In this way, I have one more job every day: go to the pond several times more. I always hope that one day, suddenly, "Xiao He shows sharp corners" and green lotus leaves grow out of the water. However, contrary to expectations, in the first year of throwing, nothing appeared on the water until the autumn leaves fell. After a lonely winter day, the next year, the pond was full of spring water, green willows and weeping willows, and there was a beautiful scene. However, there is still no lotus leaf on the water I expected. At this time, I was completely disheartened, thinking about those hard-shell lotus seeds brought by Hubei, probably because of unexplained reasons, there is no hope of planting lotus seeds anymore. My eyes can't suck lotus leaves out of the mud.

However, in the third year, a miracle suddenly happened. One day, I suddenly found that there were several round green leaves where I threw lotus seeds, although the color was very attractive; But it is thin and pitifully lying on the water, like the leaves of water hyacinth. Only five or six leaves grew at first. I always feel a little too little, and I always hope to grow a few more pieces. So, I look forward to the stars and the moon, and go to the pond every day. There are farmers outside the school to catch aquatic plants. I always ask them to be merciful and not to break the leaves. But after a long summer, sad autumn came to the world again, leaving only five or six lonely leaves floating in the pond. For me, this is another hopeful but still depressing year.

The real miracle appeared in the fourth year. After the severe winter, the pond overflowed with springs. When the lotus grows leaves, a large green leaf suddenly grows in the place where there were five or six leaves last year. However, it seems that the lotus has not stopped its activities under the severe winter ice, because leaves have also grown in the middle of the pond far from the original base of five or six leaves. The speed and range of blade expansion are amazing. Within a few days, a large part of the pond has been covered with green leaves. Moreover, the leaves that used to lie flat on the water like water lilies gathered strength from somewhere, and some actually jumped out of the water and grew into slender lotus leaves. It turned out that I had been suspicious for a long time, fearing that water lilies were growing in the pool, not real lotus flowers. In this way, the doubt in my heart was swept away: the descendants of Honghu lotus really grew in the pond. I was ecstatic, and these years have finally not been in vain.

Everything in the world is born, and animals and plants, including people, are always endowed with an extremely amazing survival force and an extremely amazing communication force, which is too great to resist. As long as you are willing to take the trouble to observe, you will certainly admit it. What is in front of me now is the lotus in the pond in front of my building. As several brave blades jumped out of the water, many blades followed. Overnight, dozens of branches appeared, and they spread quickly. In less than ten days, lotus leaves have covered half the pond. From where I planted my seeds, I spread to the east, west, north and south. I can't know how the lotus moves in the mud in deep water. Anyway, judging from the lotus leaves above the water, it takes at least half a foot to form this situation.

Planting lotus leaves is definitely not enough. Lotus flowers come one after another. According to experts who know lotus flowers, the lotus flowers in the pond in front of my house are different from those in other ponds in Yanyuan. The color of lotus flowers in other places is light red; And my lotus here is not only red, but also has many petals. Each flower can produce sixteen compound petals, which certainly looks different. These dazzling red lotus flowers, hanging high above the lotus leaves, pose in the wind as if dazzling everything. When I was young, I read an old poem: "After all, in mid-June, the scenery of the West Lake was different from that at four o'clock. The next day, the lotus leaf is infinitely blue, and the lotus color is different. " I love the beauty of his poems and deeply regret that I can't go to Hangzhou West Lake to enjoy them in person. Now the pond in front of my house is the scenery of the West Lake. It was I who moved the West Lake from Hangzhou to Yanyuan. Isn't it great and satisfying? Mr. Zhou Yiliang just moved to Longrun Garden a few years ago and was named "Jihe". I find it interesting and grateful. Shall I pass the lotus?

The year before and last year, when the lotus flowers were in full bloom in Xiayuetan, I walked around the pond at least several times every day, sitting on a stone and quietly sucking the fragrance of lotus flowers and lotus leaves. "Cicada is quiet in the forest, and Tonggong Mountain is more secluded." I really feel quiet around. I sat there silently, and what I saw on the water was lotus green manure and red manure. The reflection is reflected in the water. When the wind blows, a lotus petal falls into the water and falls from above, while the reflection in the water falls from bottom to top, and finally touches the water surface. The two become one and float there like a boat. I once read two sentences in a poem: "The pond flowers fall in shadow, and the sand birds fly with the sound." The author deeply regrets that the second sentence is no good. No wonder, how many people can understand the realm of "a pool of flowers falling into a shadow"?

In the evening, my family often sits on the stones by the pond to enjoy the cool. One night, the moon in the sky was bright and bright, and a piece of silver light was sprinkled on the lotus. I suddenly heard a voice. Mao Mao, my little white Persian cat, jumped into the water. He probably thought there was a white jade plate in the water and wanted to jump on it and catch it. As soon as it entered the water, it probably felt something was wrong. It quickly returned to the shore and smashed the reflection of the moon. It took a long time to recover its original shape.

This summer, the weather is extremely sultry, but the lotus flowers are in full bloom. Green covers the sky, red flowers reflect the sun, and a pond that is not too small is so full that even the water surface can hardly be seen. A neighbor who loves lotus flowers counts the number of lotus flowers cheerfully every day. Tell me today that there are four or five hundred flowers; Tell me tomorrow that there are six or seven hundred flowers. However, although I know he is meticulous, I don't believe he can really count the exact number of flowers. There are many corners under the lotus leaves and in the crevices. I don't know how many children are hidden, which is hard to see on the shore. It is roughly estimated that there will be nearly 1000 flowers this year. This is really a magnificent view.

These days, the weather has suddenly turned cold. It seems that it suddenly turns from summer to autumn. Although the lotus leaf in the pond is still green, it seems that the day of becoming a residual lotus will not be too far away. In another month or two, even the residual load will disappear without a trace when the water freezes. At that time, the lotus will probably hibernate under the ice and dream of spring. Their dreams will surely come true. "Winter has come, can spring be far behind?"

I wish my "Jihe" all the best.

1997