Fortune-telling photos of finches

Ginkgo Guo Moruo

Original text:

Ginkgo, I miss you. I don't know why you are also called Gongsun Shu. But most people call you ginkgo, which is easy to understand.

I know, your characteristics don't care that you have this kind of apricot-like fruit, the skin is as white as silver and the nucleolus is rich in nutrition-needless to say, this is enough for your characteristics.

But most people don't know that you are the oldest and most advanced flowering plant. Your pollen and ovules behave like animals, and you are a treasure preserved by human beings.

You can't exist in nature, but you still stand upright, singing the triumph of human victory in space. You saint of the East, you living monument to China culture, you only have it in China, but most people don't seem to know it.

I have been to Japan, and Japan has you, but you are obviously an overseas Chinese in Japan. China culture has existed in Japan for as long as you have lived in Japan.

You really should be called the national tree of China. I like you, especially you.

But not because you are a specialty of China, but because you are beautiful, true and kind.

How straight your stems are, how vigorous your branches are, how green, how clean and how delicate your fan leaves are!

In summer, how many temples have been crowned with towering clouds, and how many working people have been crowned with cool canopies.

Although the phoenix tree has your straight end, it is not as strong as you;

Poplar is lush but not solemn.

The smoky wind will charm you, and birds will come to song for you; God's Hundreds of Gods-If there are God's Hundreds of Gods, I believe that whenever the moon is empty, they will come to the party at your feet.

Autumn comes, butterflies die, your green leaves will turn golden yellow, and butterflies will fly out of the garden.

Aren't you a clever magician? But you don't have the kind of Jianghu atmosphere that makes people hide their noses.

When you are free from everything and your branches are propped up in space, you are not ashamed of cold wind, frost and snow.

You didn't give in to your attitude at all, but you didn't despair; Your virtue is as barren as music, but you are not proud; Your taboo seems to be "detachment". You care about all the vegetation, you care about everything, but you don't hide it.

Isn't your fruit nourishing people, your sturdy wooden equipment, or your fallen leaves an excellent fuel for starting a fire?

But I'm a little strange: strangely, everyone in China seems to have forgotten you for a long time, as if from ancient times.

I can't find your name in China's classics. I seldom see China poets praising your poems, and I seldom see China painters describing your paintings.

What the hell is going on here? You are the eternal witness of China culture. Don't you find it strange?

Ginkgo biloba, the people of China have forgotten you. Although everyone is eating your ginkgo, everyone likes to eat your ginkgo, but I really forgot about you.

There are people in the world who can't tell, but they have never forgotten your example for so long.

Really, isn't the capital the first good area? But I seldom see your shadow; Why are acacia trees all over the street and eucalyptus trees all over the garden?

I miss you so much, Ginkgo! I hope you don't forget China.

A little dangerous. I am afraid that if you are unhappy, you will disappear from the land of China.

In the airspace of China, you will never hear your songs praising life.

Ginkgo biloba, I really hope that people in China will worship you more one day and eat more ginkgo biloba.

Lonely tree

E. bile trienes

Irene Billing (1877- 1949) is a Bulgarian writer. The important works include two episodes of short stories and the humorous work My Ash.

A gust of wind blew two seeds from the distant forest and scattered them in the field at will. Rain moistens them, soil buries them, and sunshine warms them. So they grew into two trees in the field.

At first, they were short, but they were pulled high from the ground by unintentional time. They see farther than before.

They can also see each other.

The field is vast, until the end of the lush plain, there are no other trees, only these two trees, far apart, standing in the middle of the field together. Their branches criss-cross like some strange rulers to measure this wilderness.

They looked at each other from a distance, thinking of each other and admiring each other. However, when spring comes, the power of life warms them, and the sap flows in their bodies, which reminds them of the eternal mother forest that has left forever.

They shook the branches knowingly and silently gestured to each other. When a bird flies from tree to tree like a mind, they tremble with joy.

When the storm came, they shook in fear, broke branches, groaned and shouted as if to get rid of the ground. The two sides rushed together, grasped the bracket tightly and were rescued in mutual embrace.

When night came, they disappeared into the darkness and separated again. In their sickly pain, they look up at the sky and pray, hoping to send them the light of day as soon as possible so that they can meet again.

If the hunter and the worker sit in the shadow of one of them and rest, the other person whispers sadly, telling how miserable the lonely life is and how slow, heavy and meaningless the days away from their loved ones are; Their ideals disappear because they are not understood; Their hopes were dashed because they could not be realized; How strong the love without comfort is, how unbearable the situation without affection is.

Sagami beach sunset

The wind in autumn and winter has completely stopped, and the evening sky in Wan Li is cloudless in Wan Li. It's hard to imagine that there are so many peaceful scenes in the world when the sunset stands far away on Izu Mountain.

It takes three minutes for the sunset to reach the foot of the mountain and completely sink to the surface.

When the sun just set in the west, the area around Fuji and Xiangdou was shrouded in mountains and mist. The sun is the so-called daytime, and its silver is dazzling. The mountains also narrowed their eyes.

The sun is setting in the west. Mount Fuji and Mount Xiangdou turn purple again.

The sun is more inclined to the west. The purple skin of Mount Fuji and Mount Xiangdou was dyed with a layer of golden smoke.

At this time, standing by the sea, the sunset flowed over the sea and reached my feet. All the ships at sea radiate golden light. Mountains, beaches, people, pine forests, pedestrians, overturned bamboo baskets and scattered grass clippings all show fiery red colors.

Watching the sunset in a calm evening is a great feeling to protect the saints from dying. Extremely solemn and peaceful. Even an ordinary person will feel that he has wrapped his body in a halo, and his body has melted, leaving only his soul standing on the eternal seaside.

There is something in your heart. There are too many words of "happiness", but not enough words of "sadness".

Autumn is sinking, close to the top of Izu Mountain. Xiangdou Mountain suddenly became an empty orchid, but the top of Mount Fuji still shone with crimson gold.

Izuyama has caught the sunset. As soon as the sun goes down, the glow floating on the sea recedes for eight miles. The sunset is leisurely inch by inch, minute by minute, looking forward to the world that is about to leave, leisurely sinking.

Finally, there is one last point left. Suddenly sank, turned into beautiful eyebrows, turned into lines, lines turned into dots, and suddenly disappeared.

Looking up, there is no sun in the world. The light disappears, the seamounts are vast and everything is sad.

The sun sank to rest behind the hill. Suddenly, the horizon came and shot thousands of arrows. Looking at the western heaven, it is golden. That's how great men die.

After sunset, Fuji was covered with a layer of cyan. In a short time, the gold in the western sky turned scarlet, then gray, and finally blue-green. Above Sagami Beach, the stars shine. They are the remnants of the sun, and they seem to herald the sunrise tomorrow.

Mountain lily

(diary of June 10, Meiji thirty-three years)

Farewell to the Shadow —— Lu Xun

When people sleep until they don't know when, there will be shadows saying goodbye and saying those words-

There are places in heaven that I don't want to go; There are some things I don't want to go to hell, I don't want to go;

There are things in your future golden world that I don't want to go to.

However, you are what I don't want.

Friend, I don't want to follow you, I don't want to live.

I don't want to!

Ho ho ho, I don't want to, I might as well wander on land.

I am just a shadow, otherwise I will sink in the darkness without you. However, darkness will devour me, and light will make me disappear.

However, I don't want to wander between light and dark. I might as well sink in the dark.

However, I finally hesitated between light and dark, not knowing whether it was dusk or dawn. I raised my black hand and pretended to drink a glass of wine. I wonder when I will travel alone.

Ho ho ho, if it is dusk, the night will naturally sink me, otherwise I will be disappeared by the day, if it is dawn.

My friend, time is running out.

I will wander into the darkness without land.

You still want my present What can I offer you? Without it, it is still darkness and vanity. However, I would like to just be dark, or disappear in your days; I would like to be nothing and never occupy your heart.

I'm willing to do it, my friend-

I travel alone, not only without you, but also without other shadows in the dark. Only I am submerged by darkness, and the world belongs to me.

1September 24, 924

A paradise for birds-Ba Jin

We had dinner in Chen's primary school. The fever has dropped. The sun went down, leaving only a brilliant Xia Hong on the horizon, on the top of the mountain and on the treetops.

"Let's go boating!" Chen suggested. We stood by the pool in front of the school and watched the mountain view.

"Good," said the other friends happily.

We walked along a gravel road and soon reached the river. There is a thatched pavilion. Passing through Shui Ge, we found some boats under two big trees by the river.

We jumped on the boat one by one. A friend untied the rope and picked up a bamboo pole. The boat moved slowly towards the middle of the river.

Three friends rowed the boat, and Ye and I sat on the boat and looked around.

There stands a tower on the hillside in the distance, and many green trees embrace it. There are few towers like this near here. This is my friend Ye's hometown.

The river is wide, and there are no waves on the white water. The ship sailed calmly on the water. Three paddles paddle regularly in the water.

In one place, the river narrows. Clusters of green leaves stretch out to the water. The leaves are lovely green. These are many lush banyan trees, but I can't see where the trunk is.

When I said many banyan trees, my mistakes were corrected by my friends at once. One friend said there was only one banyan tree, and another friend said there were two banyan trees. I have seen many big banyan trees, but it is the first time for me to see such a big banyan tree.

Our boat is getting closer to the banyan tree. I had a chance to see its true face: this is a big tree with countless branches, and it has taken root again, and many roots hang down to the ground and go into the soil. Some branches hang down to the water, and from a distance, they look like a big tree lying on the water.

Now is the season of lush foliage (the trees have produced small fruits, and many of them have fallen off. This banyan tree seems to show us all its vitality. There are so many green leaves, one on top of the other, leaving no gaps. Green is shining before our eyes, as if every leaf has a new life trembling, this beautiful southern tree!

The boat anchored under the tree for a while, and the shore was wet, so we didn't go up. Friends say this is "a paradise for birds". There are many birds nesting in this tree, and farmers are not allowed to catch them. I seem to hear some birds flapping their wings, but when my eyes look closely, I can't see the shadow of a bird. Only countless roots stand on the ground, like many wooden stakes. The ground is wet, so the river often washes ashore at high tide. There is not a bird in "Bird Paradise", I think. The ship has left. A friend paddled the boat and slowly flowed to the middle of the river.

There are several litchi trees on the path by the river. Many red fruits are hung on the green leaves. That's where our ship flows. A friend picked up an paddle and rowed the boat into a small ditch. By the side of the path, the boat stopped and we all jumped on the shore.

Two friends quickly climbed the tree and dropped some lychees with leaves from the tree. Chen and I stood under the tree and picked them up. When they went down to the field, we all ate lychees and walked back to the boat.

The next day, we went boating to Ye's hometown, where there are mountains and towers. Starting from Chen's primary school, we passed the "bird paradise" again.

This time it was in the morning, and the sun shone on the water and the treetops. Everything looks bright. Our boat also stayed under the tree for a while.

It was very quiet at first. Suddenly a bird called. When our friend Chen clapped his hands, we saw a big bird flying, and then we saw the second and third one. Let's keep clapping. Soon, the forest became very lively. Birds are everywhere, birds are everywhere. Big, small, flowery and black, some are standing on the branches screaming, some are flying, and some are flapping their wings.

I watched carefully. My eyes are really flooded. I saw this clearly, missed that, saw that, and the third flew away. A thrush flew out, surprised our applause, flew into the Woods, stood on a twig and sang excitedly. Its songs are very nice.

"Let's go," Ye urged me.

When the boat flowed to the countryside under the tower, I looked back at the lush banyan trees left behind me. I'm a little nostalgic. My eyes deceived me yesterday. "Bird's Paradise" is indeed a bird's paradise!

June of 1933 in Guangzhou

Selected from Travel Essays

Talking and laughing-Qian Zhongshu

Since the promotion of humorous literature, selling jokes has become a career of literati. Of course, humor is vented through laughter, but laughter does not necessarily represent humor. Liu Yang Guang's Miscellaneous Notes says, "Donkeys cry and laugh." Horses are not famous for their humor. Maybe their faces are too long. To tell the truth, most people's laughter is only equivalent to Aśvaghoṣa's rustling, and it can't be full of humor.

It seems that Aristotle was the first person to distinguish between man and beast with humor. He said in Zoology: "Man is the only animal that can laugh." The modern man W.S.Blunt has a sonnet of Laughter and Death, which briefly states that nature, like birds and animals, is full of emotions and fears, and all other sounds are appropriate except humorous laughter. However, if laughter is to show humor, it can only be regarded as waste or luxury, because not all human beings need to laugh. The chirping of animals is enough to express the feelings of ordinary people. Anger makes the lion roar, sorrow makes the ape crow, argument makes the frog noisy, barking like a dog when meeting an enemy, and cooing like a dove when meeting a lover. How many people really have humor and need to laugh to show it? However, the creator has distributed the ability of laughter to all mankind fairly. He can put it on his face and in his throat. It would be a pity not to use this skill. Therefore, ordinary people laugh not because of humor, but to cover up their own humor. The original intention of laughing gradually lost; What was originally humorous has gradually become a cover for poor humor. So you see the dull smile of fools, the funny smile of blind people-and popular humorous literature.

Laughter is the fastest flowing expression, which extends from the eyes to the edge of quarrel. Dong Fangshuo's "Tale of Dongye" contains Dong's "Missing in the Pot" and "Laughing in the Sky". Zhang Hua noticed that the smile in the sky was lightning, which was really a wonderful imagination. According to the memory of the Dutch lady, Sidney Smith once said, "Lightning is the wisdom of heaven." Laughter can really be said to be lightning on a person's face, eyes suddenly brighten, and teeth shine between lips and kisses. We can't resist lightning to replace the hanging sun and moon, so we can't turn laughter into a fixed and collective expression. The humor produced by advocacy must be man-made humor. This mechanized smile, like the teeth of a skeleton, is not a smart gesture of the living. Bergson's Le Rire says that all absurdity begins when flexible things become stiff and vivid behaviors become mechanical. Therefore, the monotonous words and actions that came back provoked laughter, like stuttering, like oral idioms, like children deliberately imitating adults. Old men are often more ridiculous than young people, just because old men are not as active as young people, just a series of rigid habits. Humor can't be advocated, that's why. Once advocated, what is revealed naturally becomes imitation, and what is changed casually becomes rigid. This kind of humor itself is the material of humor, and this kind of smile itself is ridiculous. A person with a real sense of humor has a different understanding, smiles happily and coldly, and takes a deep breath for a boring life. Maybe hundreds of years later, thousands of miles away, there will be another person who will never betray his heart and smile at each other across the river bank of time and space. If a large group of people, laughing and relaxing their voices, make an appointment and laugh in droves, it can only be regarded as a series of funny meetings in the amusement park. The promotion of domestic products has even joined the anti-counterfeiting, not to mention humor can not be mass-produced. Therefore, after the promotion of humor, there were no humorous writers, but countless small faces with pen and ink were added. Hanging up the humorous signboard, Xiaohua's worth certainly increased greatly, leaving the theater and mixing in the literary and art circles; On the other hand, after pretending to be a little face, the humorous character is reduced, and more than half of literature and art can only be regarded as "entertainment". Small face also makes us laugh, not bad! But he is completely different from a truly humorous person. A truly humorous person can laugh, so we laugh with him. It's funny to pretend to be humorous, and we smile at him. Small face makes us laugh, not because he has humor, but because we have humor ourselves.

Therefore, humor is a temper at most, and it can never be labeled as an opinion, let alone a profession. Let's not forget that humor in Latin means flowing; In other words, humor is made of water, just like women in Jia Baoyu's mind. Think of humor as a habit or a life-long rice bowl, that is, liquid condenses into solid, and biology is the specimen. Is a person with a real sense of humor. If he wants to laugh for a living, his works are not very good to read. For example, Mark Twain: Since the end of the 18th century, Germans like humor, but the more they talk about it, the more irrelevant it becomes. Just because Germans are a sausage-making people, they mistakenly think that humor is like minced meat, which can be wrapped up as ready-made spiritual food. Humor reduces the seriousness of life and never takes oneself seriously. True humor can laugh at itself. It is not only a humorous outlook on life, but also a humorous outlook on humor itself. Advocating humor as a slogan and standard is lack of humor; This is not humor, this is serious propaganda humor, and the face is persuaded to laugh. We are reminded of Aśvaghoṣa Sasha Vujacic again! It sounds like a smile, but there is no smile on the horse's face, and it is still long, like a friend who died after the memorial service and an advanced master on the podium.

Generally speaking, there are two motives for pretending something. Or out of respect, such as vulgar things respect art, they collect bones, which is arty. Or out of exploitation, such as the attempt of bad people, they pretend to be gentlemen with religious morality. Humor is borrowed. I can't think of these two reasons. However, fakes can't be true after all. In western idioms, people who laugh loudly are called "silver smiles". False humor is like counterfeit money mixed with lead, which makes a dull sound and can only be regarded as a lead smile. But "silver smile" may be selling laughter for profit, and there is silver in the smile, just like saying that "the book has its own golden house"; Gu Bei said, for the reference of lexicographers.

Wish Zhang Ailing

Time is like a sharp knife. If it is not used properly, it will carve deep lines on a beautiful face, so that youthful vigor will be worn away month after month and year after year. However, if used properly, it can carve an ordinary stone into a magnificent statue. Although Santa Maria Girls' School has a history of 50 years, it is still an ordinary white stone that can only be slightly carved. Over time, it may be polluted by dust, eroded by wind and rain, or broken into pieces of gravel. On the other hand, it can also carve wonderful statues carefully, slowly and inch by inch with the knife of time, which is also worth putting in Michelangelo's brilliant works. This knife is not only held by the headmaster, teachers and tomorrow's students, but all our classmates have the right to manipulate it.

If I can live to my old age of white hair, I will find the path that passes through the plum tree I knew in my early years in my sleep by the fireside. Of course, at that time, today's Myrica rubra will have entered a happy old age, stretching out a strong arm to cover the vertical and horizontal paths. The weather-beaten ancient bell tower will still stand in the golden sun and ring the bell that sounds so familiar. In the slow and solemn bell, girls of different heights, pale or ruddy, plump and petite, filled with youthful vitality and vigor, poured into the church like a stream. There, they will kneel down to pray and whisper to God the little things in their lives: their sadness, their tears, their quarrels, their love and their great ambitions. They will pray to God to help them achieve their goals and become writers, musicians, educators or ideal wives. I can still hear the ancient bell tower echoing in the prayers, as if answering them in a low voice: "Yes, compared with other schools in China, the dormitory of Santa Maria Girls' School is not necessarily the largest, and the garden in the school is not necessarily the most beautiful, but she undoubtedly has the best and most diligent little girls, who will win glory for her alma mater with their brilliant careers in the future! "

When I hear this, my feelings will depend on whether I have achieved anything in these years after graduation. If I don't fulfill my responsibility and lose the right to pay tribute to my alma mater, I will feel ashamed and regret. However, if I succeed in fighting for my goal, I can smile with relief, because I also have the opportunity to carve the image of a beautiful school life with the knife of time, although my contribution is so insignificant.

( 1937)

Autumn Rain-Zhang Ailing

Rain, like silver-gray sticky spider silk, weaves a soft net and nets the whole autumn world. The sky is dark, too, like the roof of an old house covered with cobwebs. The pile of gray clouds in the sky is like white powder peeling off the roof. Under the cover of this old roof, everything looks extremely dull. The green pomegranates, mulberry trees and vines in the garden only represent the prosperity of the past summer, but now they have become the remains of ancient Roman architecture, shivering in the rustling rain and recalling the glorious past. The color of grass has turned into melancholy yellow, and fresh flowers can no longer be found underground; The delicate daffodils planted outside the dormitory wall hung their heads with tears in their eyes and lamented their bad luck there. It was only two sunny days, and it was such a moldy rainy day. Only the sweet-scented osmanthus in the corner, the branches have been decorated with several precious buds as gold, carefully hidden under the green oval leaves, revealing a little hope of new life germination.

It's raining quietly, only the thin sound of rain. The orange-red house, like an old monk in colorful robes, bowed his head and closed his eyes, accepting the baptism of rain. The wet red brick exudes irritating pig blood, which is in sharp contrast with the green laurel leaves under the wall. Gray toad, jumping in the wet and moldy mud; Under the gloomy net of autumn rain, it is the only thing full of joy and life. The mottled gray-yellow pattern on its back corresponds to the dreary sky in the distance, resulting in a harmonious tone. It jumped up with a plop, jumped into the mud from the grass nest, and splashed dark green water.

Rain, like silver-gray sticky spider silk, weaves a soft web and nets the whole autumn world.

( 1936)

Loneliness-Liang Shiqiu

Loneliness is a kind of happiness. In my small study, I lit a incense burner, and a wisp of smoke curled up and poked at the ceiling, as if the air in the room was absolutely still, and my breath did not stir up any waves. I secretly stared at the smoke line alone. There are many purples and brown leaves in the yard outside the house, and the sound of dead leaves and branches is clearly audible. First there was a crisp crack, then there was a knock on the branches, and finally there was a slap on the empty steps. This time, I feel lonely. In this loneliness, I realized my existence-an isolated existence for a moment. This kind of realm is not easy to get, and it is related to the environment, but also to the state of mind. Loneliness doesn't have to be found in osawa, deep in the mountains. As long as you have a clean heart, you can feel an ethereal and leisurely state in the streets and in the alleys. The so-called "self-bias from a distance" is also true. In this realm, we can soar in imagination, jump out of the scum of the world and swim with the ancients. So I said, loneliness is a kind of happiness.

I had the same experience in church. In the great and solemn church, a not-so-bright light came in through the stained glass window. The heavy sound of the piano seems to wash people's hearts, and I feel my own smallness. This little feeling is proof that I realize my existence. Because usually even this little sense of smallness will not be there!

My friend Mr. Li Xiao lives in Guangji Temple. According to him, on a recent night, the moonlight was bright and the sky was washed. He strolled out of the monk's room alone, stood on the stone steps of the Hall of Ursa Major, and looked around eagerly. The moonlight is so bright, the dark trees are so quiet and the temples are so solemn. He suddenly realized something, eternity, and his own smallness. I believe that a person often has such experience, and his mind is naturally open-minded.

But lonely happiness is not easy to enjoy for a long time. It only existed for a while. There are too many things in the world to remind us from time to time, reminding us of a disappointing fact: our feet are on the ground! A fly can't get out when it hits the glass window. A cry of "Please have pity on me, a blind man" can make us plunge into loneliness and into the whirlpool of distress and irritability. As for things like "rent collectors" coming to the door, or "rent collectors in Shihao" arresting people in the middle of the night, it is enough to make people depressed and angry, not to mention. This is still the feeling of the outside world. If a person's heart is dirty first, he is always in a mood, he will panic, be busy and be angry, even if he is in the most lonely situation, he will never enjoy loneliness.

Then, isn't loneliness an idealism and an escape? You can also say that. A hermit in Gao Tao can still exist in the former society, and he is respected by people. It is absolutely impossible in today's society. Now it seems that there are only two kinds of people, one is circling in the real mud, and the other is occasionally raising his head from the mud to catch his breath. Loneliness is a few mouthfuls of fresh air to breathe. After a few breaths, you have to bow your head patiently and get into the mud. So I don't want to be picky about how I can hold my head high. Escape from reality, if reality can really escape, I am eager!

People who have had the experience of doing nothing should know how difficult it is to try to stabilize their heart at first and tell it not to think about anything! It's a means of forcing yourself into loneliness, and the so-called meditation completely falls into this category. I appreciate loneliness, slightly different. My so-called loneliness is accidental and does not need to be forced. You don't need to be disappointed if you lose it. But I was lonely for a moment, and I wanted to enjoy it.

Ten is just right. Well, I didn't count much.