Approaching the Spring of "Old Capital"

Prose Title: Spring Approaching "Old Capital"

Keywords: Approaching Exquisite Prose

Prose classification: exquisite prose

Composition source:/three articles

Yu Dafu traveled thousands of miles from Hangzhou to Qingdao, and then from Qingdao to Peiping, just to see the autumn of his old capital. He made several classic comparisons between the autumn in the south and the autumn in the north. I have been playing: "Compared with Qiu Lai in the north, the autumn in the south is like rice wine dried in vain, porridge boiled in white, bass white hairy crabs, yellow dogs and white camels." He is willing to exchange two-thirds of his life, just wanting to stay in the autumn in the north.

It can be seen that the predecessors' love for the autumn of the old capital is endless. For me who only loves autumn, because of his articles, I often have the yearning to go to Beijing in late autumn.

However, at noon in spring, I watched a tea tree stay in the corner of the garden after a rare freezing torture last year. When the new leaves urge the old leaves to fall one after another, the sunshine seems to be divided one by one, and it floats with the leaves, with some autumn gestures. It suddenly occurred to me that I want to see the spring of the "old capital" from a corner of the south of the Yangtze River. What effect will this have on the south?

In the eyes of ordinary people, spring is probably the last place in Jiangnan, which is why Jiangnan women are so gentle and lovely, especially Wu Nong's soft words are the most worrying. If the spring breeze is rippling, I meet a hairpin, a low eyebrow and a floating skirt, and the spring on Liu 'an will be stuck in that person's heart for life. In this way, the spring in Jiangnan is exquisite and graceful, full of provocative thoughts.

In your spare time, Meng Gong's "I wake up in this bright spring morning" will also let you appreciate the charming charm of spring in the south of the Yangtze River. Yan Chun's feelings are deepest in the morning and afternoon, and I often have the longest dream at this time. If I can, after waking up, I often let myself close my eyes again in the song of birds and continue those unreasonable dreams, even though I don't know the people inside. What is rare is that this spring day will also make me love autumn and pick up some long-lost sweetness in my dream.

In Jiangnan on rainy nights, spring is a pity. "But now I remember that night, that storm, and I want to know how many flowers were broken" is not to hurt spring, but to cherish spring. I often think that those flowers fall in spring and most of the leaves are yellow in autumn. When they left the aircraft carrier, did they leave in the same way? In my opinion, they have spring and autumn alternation and detachment. Although, I still can't help bending down, picking up a few pieces and staring at them for a long time.

It is also a long way from spring in the south of the Yangtze River to spring in the north. Looking at the word "old capital" is not like looking at autumn. It may be that the gate of the Summer Palace is mottled scarlet, revealing an empty space, just like the scars on the branches after autumn leaves fall to the ground. But I didn't feel any sadness. I just felt something heavy piled up in my heart. In spring, this splendid but deep garden was crowded with tourists.

There is a shadow in front of the door, fixing my typical Jiangnan woman's smile here. The background is the crowded spring of the "old capital", the mottled prosperity on the door, and the heavy time that has passed away.

Spring in the north and south embrace and cherish each other here.

When I went in, I thought I was in the wrong place. How can I return to my hometown? The waves on Kunming Lake reflect the shadow of Jiangnan, the willows on the shore kiss the water, and the small yachts on the lake, although far less than the ancient charm of Jiangnan ships, are spectacular because of their richness. Men and women pedal boats and look at each other from time to time, and their feelings are like ripples.

Thinking of the high-rise buildings and traffic outside the park, I really can't smell the spring in Jiangnan along the way. Spring in the north is so dry. So it was hiding here.

Sweep away the swaying willow branches and turn into the main courtyard of those temples with the wind. Prosperity was once extremely obvious here, and Haitang was still blooming, more beautiful than Li's peach skin. I narrowed my eyes slightly, and there seemed to be the sound of skirts in my ear, climbing flowers and folding willows, passing through the hall and piling up on my eyebrows. How much is the spring? How much has the blush subsided? Nowadays, spring doesn't just stay under the eaves of monarchs. Compared with the static prince, showgirls and jade steps, the spring on the faces of the tourists below is much more vivid.

Along the shore of Kunming Lake, following the sound, all the way Beijing dialect rhymes, all the way singing and dancing, all of which spontaneously let the spring flow freely in everyone's heart. What makes me a little homesick most is that in the pavilion on the shore of the lake not far from Wanshou Mountain, a group of old people are dancing folk dances, jazz dances, sailor dances and hula dances from all over the world. Those exaggerated movements, those strange clothes and that kind of unscrupulous cheerful laughter can make a shy Jiangnan woman feel a stomachache and her legs and feet swing involuntarily. You can't help laughing, because the old man who plays musical instruments wears a straw hat askew, staring at you, staring at you knocking, staring at your ass, until a group of people around him bend their backs and cover their stomachs with laughter. The residents of Beijing really made a scene last spring!

Holding back endless smiles and looking up, the Wanshou Palace on Wanshou Mountain is still at the top of the mountain. In the past, this festival was only held on a woman's sixtieth birthday. When she bent down to pray for her, who could be so happy about the most exquisite song and dance in the world? It was at this time that I suddenly felt deeply sorry for the portrait of the queen's concubines hanging on the wall. Have they ever seen such a spring in the garden before their death?

Go to Zhou Su Street, step on Su Causeway Xiao Chun, awkward, with strength to carry a Jiangnan to this point. On the broken bridge, only people can imagine that the white snake is holding an oil umbrella in the distance and then coming back quickly. Spring in the north should not be stolen, just as northerners are notoriously honest, I think so.

Spring here has a far less flavor than Jiangnan, and it is generous.

When leaving the garden gate, tourists are getting thinner and thinner, and the sunset has restored some dignity, tranquility and grace to the spring of this "old capital". Looking back, the garden full of begonia stood still in the sunset, like a gorgeous maid-in-waiting, holding spring and killing time. There is still a trace of bitterness on the threshold of this ancient temple.

Then I wonder if those dancing old people in Beijing have gone home early? I think so, too. It's time for my grandchildren to go to school.

Although taxis in Beijing can't be compared with rickshaws in the old society, the driver who pulled me back to the hotel is really like Xiangzi camel. I like the simple and steady voice of northerners, which makes people feel safe. Unlike some southern men, when talking to you, their eyes are going round and round, and the rhythm of language is faster than their eyes, which always makes people feel uncomfortable.

A sentence full of Beijing flavor "Here you go", like a spring breeze, still fresh in my memory when I entered the house. It began to rain in Mao Mao at night, which is the spring rain in the north! I'm holding an umbrella. It's called finding a restaurant. In fact, I looked for magnolia everywhere in the rain. Because a blogger photographed magnolia flowers in several places in Beijing in the rain a few days ago and sent them to me just to let me read his mind with some small poems. This time I came to Beijing, although he inquired about it several times, I decided not to tell him, which was inconvenient. However, at the moment of rain, white and purple magnolia bloomed in my heart, and the falling raindrops were like a crystal heart. Let's think of it this way. The rainy night in the spring in the north turns out to be so soft that you feel fragrant when you touch a drop. I really can't lament "I don't know how many flowers I have folded."

Sure enough, the next morning, there were no fallen leaves in the hotel yard. The sun was shining, and when I crossed the wide Tiananmen Square, I suddenly felt a strange feeling of spring. When I walked across the Jinshui Bridge, those flying red flags made people proud. There is a sudden impulse to fly here in the graceful footsteps of Jiangnan. Why haven't I had good experiences in recent years? I regret that I have reached the gate of the Forbidden City.

The trace of welcoming the Olympic Games has fallen on the gate of the Forbidden City. The newly decorated scarlet color really shows no vicissitudes of the Summer Palace. And that heavy city gate, inlaid with copper and silver doornails, makes people feel solemn. From Tiananmen Square, from the spring scenery of Chang 'an Avenue to the threshold of the Forbidden City, it seems to have entered a yellowed picture book, and it seems to have entered a thick and inky history book. Spring is coming, will it be a little different?

Hua Hudie without the Summer Palace is warm and blue. After all, it used to be the center of power, and the magnificent palace only reminds me of the intrigue of those in power. I have no intention of looking for traces of power struggle, trying to linger in the spring.

It is said that Jiaotai Hall is the necessary residence for the emperor and queen to get married. I looked at it carefully from the outside, and the room was full of red and happiness. Look at the cushions on the sofa by the window. The layers of princes and showgirls embroidered with gold thread are lifelike. I can't pick out any flaws in the hand embroidery, and I can see that it is the skillful hand of Jiangnan's daughter passing by. I took a picture with them at the window. Why? I can't tell you why. At that moment, I wish the emperor and the queen were whispering in their newly-married dragon beds.

When I went to Palace of Gathered Elegance, the place where the draft girl was chosen, I stayed the longest, and Cixi came out from here. Lan Guiren only said that she was clever. From her old photos to her youth, I still don't admit that she is a beauty. A woman is cruel and powerful. She can't make people feel beautiful. Look at the photos of those queens and nobles again, and then I think of the joke that Dabao told me: Mom, the male students in our class said in the history class today that after seeing the woman the emperor married, I felt that the emperor was really not human. A woman like that wouldn't want it even if she was killed. It was just a joke, but all I saw in this palace were little girls who were only about ten years old, so they were forced to leave their parents and were put in this dark place. At that time, I also questioned their appearance. Indeed, according to the present eyes, they are not very beautiful. How to choose them? A staff member of the Forbidden City told me: Women can only choose Manchu, and they can't compete with you Jiangnan women. It suddenly dawned on me that the stories of how many affairs happened in Jiangnan are not necessarily fictional.

However, the flower-like years have passed, and spring has come. There is silence in the palace and silence in the courtyard. Are there any spring dreams that they are looking forward to every day? I felt tears when I came out. Inside, the courtyard wall is too high and thick, so it is difficult for the spring breeze to enter and the flowers to bloom.

My most distressing place in the Forbidden City is this pearl well with a small barrel diameter. I met her from a picture book when I was five years old. Her rare beauty, rare playful and cheerful, in Guangxu plain heart opened a fragrant flower of love. But in the wrong place, the spring breeze here can't move forward, and it is doomed to perish. A tear dripped into the heart of the world from that poor well. Looking at her photos, I can't bear to see the spring sunshine shining on the flowers outside the courtyard. I just want to say to her: I will give it to you this spring.

Other famous and unknown palaces and small halls pass by one by one, like turning pages of history. I always feel that the spring breeze outside the high wall is blowing, even the gorgeous flowers and the green grass are in my eyes at the moment, and I dare not look back with my head down. Boring!

I want to be angry at the exit of the imperial garden, but I find it a powerful witness to the morbid spring of the deep palace compound. Although colorful and exotic, it has a strong sense of affectation. Those root carving plants are hundreds of years old, and three or two people can't hold them. Twisted branches, like twisted human nature, remind me of Gong Zizhen's Sick Mei Ting. In my opinion, it is far less comfortable to breathe than ordinary trees on both sides of the street outside the Forbidden City. Compared with the huge and splendid palace, the garden between these square inches is really too small. I can't imagine thousands of palace moths and concubines gathering in spring for such a small garden.

Fortunately, I came to the end of the Forbidden City. When I returned, I thought the front exit was Tiananmen Square, and my steps were much easier, just like the spring breeze was surrounded in front, waiting for me to come out of the palace. Coincidentally, it was the setting sun at that time. At the gate of the city, it was still a habit to turn around. The red sun was sprinkled on the golden palace, but history closed that page.

When I came out, I took a long breath.

The square was crowded with people and laughter. It always reminds me of the scene of "all branches are spring" in my hometown. Tourists from all over the world have different faces and skin colors, but they have one thing in common: sincere smiles always float on the spring breeze. Secretly, world harmony should be more than just a dream.

I always like to watch the clouds, which are as high as autumn, only to find that the spring evening in the north makes people feel warm and happy sitting on the clouds. At the moment, thinking about Jiangnan, which is "green as blue on the riverside", it's time for another oblique view. like