Zhang Xiaofeng's Forum on Chinese Studies

There is something that we call "poetry".

Some people think that the poem is on the wall of the poem, on the fan, in the ancient kit of searching Naqi sentences, or in a Mao poem or a roll of Du Zimei. Actually, it's not. Poetry is a fountain. If you dig the ground for several times, it will surge out. < P > As long as a piece is as long as your thoughts, you can draw out a transparent poem with one pick and one load.

According to legend, when the Buddha was born, he went to the ground immediately, and with every step, the golden lotus poured in. As for our ordinary people's

steps, of course, nothing can attract him. In the place where we stand, if we dig down, it will be a universal spring < P >. Being able to step on the hidden spring vein step by step is more shocking than the golden lotus.

reading all the books, I can't help digging. Every time in many of the most simple sentences, there are

thick springs. Ancient books have always been regarded as frustrating and difficult to read, but in fact, ancient books are springing up step by step, which makes people unable to help but be shocked and delighted.

lectures on tiger skins

It is recorded in an episode of famous officials' speeches and deeds that Zhang Hengqu was in the middle of Beijing, sitting on a tiger skin and talking about the Book of Changes, and suddenly one day

he talked with Er Cheng about the Book of Changes, which won him a deep heart. The next day, he removed the tiger skin, making all the students work for Er Cheng.

I don't know why, Neo-Confucianism is always regarded as a boring group by ordinary people, but at least, when I think of

Zhang Hengqu, I only feel poetic.

I like that young man's good sword, which is enough to reprimand the unrestrained Guanzhong young man. Suddenly, one day, he found something stronger than

sword and military, that is reason.

He sat on a gorgeous tiger skin and talked about the Book of Changes with a tiger's eyes.

What a charming and beautiful lecture on tiger skin, because such a person, because such a lecture

, even the dull title page of the Book of Changes is lit up. When I think about it, I think that the lecture on the Book of Changes must be

a poem. A male poem.

What is even more touching is his decision to push away the tiger chair. At that time, his eyes were rotten, and it was green electricity under the

rock. He pushed off a patch of tiger skin, but he has turned himself into a giant tiger with a strong wind. He is more humble, lower and closer to the truth. He is a tiger of Confucianism.

is that story really a poem? Although the book says that it is the deeds of Neo-Confucianism.

The 1,729 cranes

Zhao Zhiqian, a Qing Dynasty man, once dreamed that he entered a crane mountain. In his dream, he looked up at the wings of cranes all over the sky,

and clearly remembered that there were 1,729 cranes. At that moment, he woke up.

Suddenly, he hurriedly opened the book basket, listed all the books and his own works one by one, and compiled a set of "Looking Up to 1,729 Hezhai Series".

what would Freud say if he told such a dream?

1,729 cranes, in the dream, in the blue sky above Heshan!

suddenly, he realized that cranes are flying books.

and books, he understood, books are cranes that can hide.

When he dreams of cranes, he dreams of white-winged volley, which is a gathering of wisdom dancing into the sky.

every bird in the sky is a vegetarian book.

At one time, his book was just a heavy Song edition or something, but when he woke up, there were cranes all over the room, and he found that everyone had his own crane mountain to spread his wings and his own cold pond to cross the crane shadow.

Knowledge has turned into wisdom after a dream.

what a poetic dream that is!

According to Tian Silkworm

According to Tian Silkworm's story, I want to cry when I read it. The person recorded is Fan Chengda, and I

sometimes like Fan Chengda's poems, but sometimes I don't admire them very much. However, the record of his aid to straight books really makes me want to cry.

"In the village, bare brooms, hemp stalks and bamboo branches are used to burn torches and tie long poles to illuminate the fields and rot

everywhere to pray for silk valley."

What a night, what a torch, what a prayer poem belonging to the agricultural nation!

in the twelfth month, the field is cold, so they give him a fire!

in the middle of the night, the field is dark, so they give him light!

It's not so much a torch that shines all over the field as a pair of burning eyes that look forward to it.

.

fields! When we shine a candle on you, we also shine a candle on our hearts, which are fields and fields are hearts. < P > We are the lifeblood of each other!

give us silk and give us grain? We, on the other hand, give you every inch of strength and every

love from head to toe ...

Give us silk, give us the valley, and when the fire gently licks you, the cold December and the cruel empty

are all sentient because of this tongue of fire ...

Give us silk, give us the valley, and you have nothing in this December and winter, but you are alive again.

give us silk like silver, give us valleys like gold, and our land must be dazzling? As dazzling as a dream, as rich as a prayer.

Give us silk, give us valley ...

Reading, reading, I will suddenly be surprised, as if walking on the ridge of the Song Dynasty, and it was myself who murmured prayers in the red light of the torch.

erya

releases the funeral rites, words, training, relatives, palaces, organs, music, heaven, earth, hills, mountains, water, grass, wood, insects, fish, birds, animals and livestock.

I can't remember the last time I read Er Ya. It seems to be my junior year. At that time, I took "Training

Learning". In fact, most students only needed to read notes. I was probably a little more serious. I actually

bought an Er Ya to circle.

Erya is really tiring. Erya is a dictionary. Fortunately, it's so thin that I just read it

.

Many years have passed, and suddenly one day I bought a copy of Er Ya Yin Tu on a whim to read

, not for credit, not for a youthful and strong job, but for an indescribable attachment

. That year, I walked into the classroom of my junior year and faced the blackboard as a student? Now, when I walk into the junior classroom,

I am a teacher with a blackboard on my back. Time flies, but erya is still erya two thousand years ago.

when I turned over the catalogue, I was shocked by it first, and I explained it nineteen times at a time. Why didn't I see this kind of beauty before? At that time, the world was so affectionate that I could see that people in that era were conceited and happy, with mountains, mountains, rivers, sun, moon and stars, plants, insects and fish, and even the most elusive music. The most realistic cowshed and stable were

and the most complicated kinship. Reading Erya, I only feel that the world is so simple and magnificent, so clear and smooth, as clear as this baby. It seems that as soon as people in that era got up in the morning, the world approached him with familiarity. For him, the world was an examination paper with all the answers, and he couldn't think of anything that upset him.

"... there are wild fields in Lu ... there are clouds and dreams in Chu ... The beauty in Southwest China is the stone of Huashan Mountain ... There are flounders in the east, so it's no better than not ... There are birds in the south, so it's no better than not flying ...

" A horse with white front feet is called a horse, and a dog with white back feet, and ...

between being and nothing, between knowing and unknowable? Fish are swimming in the east, and the flying birds are flying in the south ... The Han nationality is growing.

reading erya can be exciting!

One-man Spring

Unity of Ming Dynasty: One-man Spring is at the top of Zhongshan Peak, which can only hold a spoonful, and it is endless, which is also the victory of the real mountain

.

Fujian Tongzhi: In Dongheming Mountain, Longxi County, Fujian Province, its spring is only for one person to suck, hence the name.

"One Man Spring" is found in Nanjing and Fujian.

Maybe just like Ma 'anshan, Jiuqu Bridge, or Taohuaxi and Li Jiazhuang, they are place names that can be found anywhere in the north and south of the Yangtze River.

I remember Rome on the postcard. There are fountains all over the street. They just twist the cross-flow water into a crystal column that bounces against the sky. The western civilization is so noisy and dazzling that people can't help but be distracted.

But in the quiet night, when I looked up the "one-man spring" in my book, I felt that there was a small plug in my heart that was gently uncovered. Not a fountain all over the city. But on an extremely high peak, a small spring, like a heart, can only accommodate one pilgrim, but every pulse, it is the blood marrow of the earth, which has been given to the water spoon for thousands of years.

the pulse is surging, and it is endless, filling the spring of the east. In Zhongshan, in Donghe

Mingshan Mountain in Longxi County, Fujian Province, and on the peak of my heart.