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In the autumn evening, sitting alone on the sofa smoking, watching the red light under the white ash of cigarette butts, slightly revealing the heating, my heart's mood will follow the blue smoke, just as relaxed and free. In an instant, the smoke turned into wisps of filaments and slowly disappeared, but at that moment, the mood in my heart was depressed in the world, so I didn't talk about the mood at that time, but only about the mood at that time. I want to draw another match and light the cigar that has been lit three or four times, but because the white ash has accumulated too much, I can't light it. It is a light shot, and the ash falls quietly on the copper stove. It is as silent as I write it on Chinese paper with a brush at this time, and there is no sound at all. Then I lit it again, and I swallowed the clouds one by one, and the aroma was tangy, just like leaning against the red and leaning against the green and warm fragrance. So I think of smoke, think of its warm heat, think of the dim haze in the room, and think of the meaning of autumn. At this time, I remembered that the meaning of autumn in poetry is not like this. It reminds people of Xiao Sha, desolation, autumn fan, red leaves, barren forest and grass. However, autumn does have another meaning, which is not as vigorous as spring, nor as intense as summer, nor as withered and withered as winter. What I love is the magnificent weather in Lin Qiu. Some people call names in the same way, which shows that they don't understand the taste of Lin Qiu's antique. I have a preference for autumn in the four seasons, so I might as well talk about it. Autumn represents maturity. It is not surprising that the spring is beautiful and delicate, and the summer is only thick and deep. They are all experienced people. Therefore, its color is light, its leaves are yellow, and it is almost antique, not only because of its lush green. This is what I mean by autumn. Perhaps what I love is not the late autumn, but the early autumn, when the air disappears, the moon is full, the crab is fat, the sweet-scented osmanthus is bright, and it is not caught in the cold and bleak gas. This is the most enjoyable thing. The gentleness at that time, like the red ash on my cigarette, was just a warm smell of smoke. Or, for example, the literati has put off the amazing style of writing, and gradually become proficient and prudent, and their perseverance is solid, and their reading is meaningful. This is the solid meaning of Zhuangzi's so-called "autumn is coming, but everything will be successful". The most enjoyable thing in life is this kind of thing. For example, alcohol is better than aging. Smoke also has the distinction between harmony and fierceness. Cigars are better than cigarettes, because they taste better. If it is properly burned, slowly finish smoking one, and look at the red light, which has infinite meaning. I don't know about opium, but I feel poetic when I see people burning on smoke lamps and listen to the slightly peeling sound. Probably everything that is old, sophisticated, smoked and refined gives me the same pleasure. For example, when a blackened earthenware pot stews pork with slow fire on the oven, the tone of Xu Yin in the pot makes me feel as interested as watching people burn great smoke. Or like a dictionary that has been used for 2 years, or a desk that has been used for half a century, or if you see a blackened old-fashioned signboard in the street, or see the vigorous handwriting of all the calligraphers, people have the same happiness. Life is like four years, and you must go through this mature period. If a woman develops well and encounters Anshun, there will also be a charm of being half-aged in Xu Niang for a while, which is beyond the reach of the 28 th beauty. What I admire most is Duncan's famous sentence: "The world only sings about spring and love, which is really unreasonable. It should be noted that the scenery in autumn is more gorgeous and magnificent, while the happiness in autumn is ten thousand times as magnificent, amazing and beautiful. I pity those women for their intolerance, which makes them miss the grand gift of the autumn of love. " If Duncan is a man, he can be said to be an inside story.

Chatting in the Emerald Green Mountain-Xu Zhimo

Going out for a walk here, going up or down the mountain, in the evening of a bright May, is like going to a beautiful banquet, such as a fruit garden, where every tree is full of the most poetic fruits. If you are not satisfied just by standing and watching, you can take it as long as you reach out. The sunshine is just warm, but it is never warm; The wind is gentle, and often because it is blown from the forest with flowers, it brings a distant fragrance, which is connected with a breath of moist water and gas, rubbing your face and gently surrounding your shoulders and waist. This simple breathing is endless pleasure; The air is always clear, there is no smoke near the valley, and there is no haze on the distant mountains. All the beautiful scenery is displayed in front of your eyes like a picture for your leisure appreciation. The beauty of being a guest in the mountains is that you never have to hesitate about your clothes and posture; You might as well shake a head of grass, or indulge the moss on your cheeks; Wear whatever you like; Play the role of a shepherd boy, a fisherman, a farmer, a tramp, and an Orion; You don't have to worry about tidying up your bow tie. You can give your neck and chest half a day's freedom without a bow tie. You can wrap a long towel of this color around your head and learn from the leader of the Taiping rebels or Byron's Egyptian posture. But the most important thing is to put on your oldest old shoes, regardless of his poor appearance. They are lovely friends. They bear your weight but don't remind you that you still have a pair of feet under you. The best way to play this game is not to ask a partner, but I want to strictly ban it and only allow you to be single; Because the company always distracts you, especially the young female companion, who is the most dangerous and authoritarian travel companion, you should avoid her as you avoid a beautiful flower snake in the grass! Usually, when we walk from our own home to a friend's home or the place where we are a deacon, it is nothing more than moving from one cell to another in the same prison. Restraint will always follow us, and freedom will never find us. But if you have a chance to wander alone in the beautiful mountains or countryside in spring and summer, that's when you are lucky, that's when you actually receive, taste, be free and comfortable, and that's when your body and soul act in unison; My friends, how old we are, we often only aggravate the cangue on our heads and tighten the chain on our ankles. When we see children rolling around in the grass and sand and having fun in shallow water, or when we see kittens chasing their own tails, we are not envious, but our cangue and chain will always be the boss who makes our actions! Therefore, only when you are single and go to the embrace of nature, like a naked child rushing into his mother's arms, do you know what the happiness of the soul is, what the happiness of living alone is, and what the happiness of walking alone is. Therefore, you have to be strict for yourself and extremely selfish. Only you, body and soul, can beat in the same pulse as nature, fluctuate in the same sound wave, and be complacent in a magical universe. Our simple innocence is as delicate as a mimosa. Once the companion resists, he rolls up, but in the quiet sunlight and breeze, his wantonness is natural and his life is unimpeded. When you roam alone, you will sit on your back in the grass and even roll sometimes, because the warm color of the grass naturally evokes your childish liveliness; On the secluded road, you will dance involuntarily, watching your own figure conjure up all kinds of strange disguised forms, because the shadows of trees beside the road hint at the joy of your dance in their dancing; You will also have to sing casually, occasionally remember the tone of the fragment and your own casual ditty, because the warbler in the Woods tells you that spring is worthy of praise; Needless to say, your mind will naturally follow the long mountain path, and your mind will look at the clear blue sky and sit still. Your thoughts will be in harmony with the sound of water between the ravines, the sound of springs in the ravines, and sometimes it will be clear and clear, and sometimes it will stir up waves, flows, flows into the cool olive forest and flows into the charming Arnold River ...

exotic Qiu Si. The leaves of edamame stretched by the short fence have shown yellow color, white small wild chrysanthemums, clumps of flowers sticking out from the haystack, and small yellow flowers shaking in the cool autumn wind. The study is particularly quiet. The blue sky outside the window, the light golden sunshine and the gust of osmanthus fragrance all contain extremely strong power to provoke human heartstrings. We can't continue the rigid reading work. At three o'clock in the afternoon that day, Bo and I went to the nearby Jixiang Temple to see autumn scenery. Walking out of the station and bypassing the railway tracks, you will see a towering wooden archway with several Chinese characters on the banner that read "the head of the well is blessed with a park". When we walked into the archway, we saw the trees on both sides of the road are lush and green, and a wonderful interest lingered in our minds. We stood stupefied under the shadows of the trees, as if we were in the deep mountains and ancient forests. In the shade of that branch, a golden soft light is rippling. It reminds me of a fairy with golden green hair, barefoot and walking through the white clouds. Looking to the west, a touch of rosy clouds is lying across the green peaks, like a flying crow with black spots, fluttering through the forest. I really don't know how to arrange a wisp of sadness. I will order Zheng Hong to take it back to my hometown! But it went without a trace. We strolled under this thick green curtain, and there was a sloping road piled with pebbles in front of us. There were neat holly trees on both sides, only the shoulders were high, and the fragrance of grass came from the breeze. We walked slowly, feeling refreshed and spotless. Down the slope, a small oriental teahouse stood in front of it, with a few small stools and mattresses, and counters on both sides, with red tangerines, green apples and five-color miscellaneous sugar listed in a jumble. "ah! A familiar place! " I couldn't help crying out. So the impression hidden in the bottom of my heart suddenly reappeared, alas! My heart is a little shaky. I am excited by a feeling of nostalgia for the past. My eyes are shocked, my chest and diaphragm are filled with sadness, and my heartstrings are beating tightly. Nature is to recall the past that has been ravaged by fleeting time. "alas! The past is just an unbearable past! " I quietly sigh alone. But there is still a vivid picture in front of me ... A group of proud and happy girls, who are pregnant with rosy hopes. When they will graduate from school, they accompanied their respected teachers and crossed the Sea of Japan to visit Penglai's scenic spots with joy. When they landed, it was the weather of cherry blossoms flying in late spring and March. Those colorful flowers and trees make them forget their tiredness. They set out from the hostel in Tokyo after dawn, first went to Ueno Park to see the remnants of cherry blossoms, and then changed trains to Jingzhitou Park. At this time, fatigue attacked them and they had to find a place to rest at once. At last, they found this quiet teahouse, and immediately decided to go in and eat something. Everyone sat down around the low stool and ordered two pots of Longjing tea and some exotic oriental snacks. They are eating and drinking, talking and laughing loudly. They are really like young warblers who have just come out of the valley. They only feel that everything in front of them is fresh and interesting everywhere. Of course, they are held in the arms of the god of happiness. The love of youth, lively and happy mood, how enviable they are! But time has ruined everything! Who can believe that I am here today, and I am one of the happy people of that year! Oh! Time flies, the time of the remnant! It took away the love of the world, it ravaged the hero's ambition, and made me stand under this familiar tree, only to swallow my tears. What can I do to turn back the light of the year? Alas! All these stinging memories, I can't help but shed bitter tears and leave this emotional place quickly! Alas! "The old country is unbearable to look back on", at the same time, the red waves of the North Sea emerge in front of us, and those men and women holding couples, I am afraid, are also shaking their paddles, pointing to the beautiful autumn scenery in front of them and whispering leisurely! Besides, it's the time when the chrysanthemum is luxuriant and the crab is fat. It's expected that Chang 'an Avenue is full of traffic and there are many happy banquets. This is a faraway country, and Qiu Si is desolate. We deeply cherish our motherland as soon as possible! Thinking of Beiping, where the leaves are falling, these poor compatriots, who are blowing in the cold rain, may be complaining to the boundless sky!

He Qifang

Imagine walking alone in a desolate night street. A silent sound stubbornly follows you, like a black shadow in a dim light. You don't know whether to cherish it or not: it's the only language of your footsteps. People often make strange words or actions when they are lonely. Action is also a kind of language. Victor, who left the green base, walked alone on the bank of sunshine and weeping willows, as in a dream. The seductive color excited his desire to be a painter, so he decided to try his own fate; He took a small knife from his pocket and threw it into the river from the weeping willow. If he can see it fall, he will succeed as a painter, otherwise he won't. Did that lonely wave move you? Do you understand? I was reminded of a figure in the Western Jin Dynasty who loved to drive alone and came back crying when the rut was blocked. Climbing to the top, who doesn't give a long cry of sadness? Do you want to fill the universe with his voice? When asked, I am afraid that I will only bow my head in silence. I once walked into an ancient building, and the huge columns on the eaves were all vying to tell me something. The low stone columns also made a sound, like some patient and thoughtful fingers moaning on them, and I became a fossil myself. Or under the dim light, you will find an outstanding book, and you will hear the monologues of all the characters in it. A gentle monologue, a sad monologue, or a violent monologue. The black door is closed: a soul that is always looking forward to dies inside, and a soul that is always looking for dies outside. Every soul is a world without windows. And lovely souls are stubborn monologues. My mind is not running in the wilderness. There is a lonely old house with painted walls and white moss on the steps, as if looking forward to the last step: when I am alone, I am fascinated. Is there such a place, or is it in a dream? Or it is just a mixture of two love-loving poems of the past, and there is no connection between them. The curtain was half closed, the floor had been swept, and the shadow of ivy was crawling on the bed of the deceased; The soul of the deceased returned to his familiar house, and his friends were having dinner and laughing, all saying "tomorrow tomorrow", and no one remembered "yesterday". Is this decadence? Can I think of "death" beautifully, but not "life" beautifully? Why am I too relieved: "the mouth of the dead is sparse, and the living is close to each other"? It is lamenting that I was stretched by the hand of the invisible "people" crouching in the middle like a spider. The more you hate each other, the more you alienate each other, and love only increases the wrong relationship. Who has ever looked around and jumped in his own net, and felt disappointed that he was willing to be bound because the invisible silk was not cut? Have people forgotten, or have I forgotten people? Here's your hat. Or "here is your scarf, let's go out for a walk", and I can say these idiomatic sentences. And my friend, who has a gentle silence, I remember him even more: there is an odd drawer in his room, a delicate little envelope with lilacs in it. Or unknown fan-shaped leaves, like showing his gentle memories to share my loneliness. On the wall is a small picture, turned over the back and written "the fisherman of the moon". Alas. I tasted it and thought to myself: what makes human beings warm, I either lack it excessively or overflow it. Both are enough to cause disease. When the Indian prince traveled, he saw the birth, illness and death, and it was from the ambition of the Indians. I'd like to have the shade of a bodhi tree and sit down and think for a while. although