Prose about enjoying autumn and singing in Liangsitou Village

I heard that forty miles southwest of the county, there is an ancient village with a population of more than 100 people called Liang (Yao) Sitou. It is said that there is ancient Yao culture there, so I go here because of its fame.

One day, in the misty rain, we set out on the road to Liangsi Tou to enjoy the autumn. Due to road construction, there was water and blockage all the way, which made me feel desolate. But the yearning heart has already flown to that strange place. Soon, I finally arrived at the intersection of a narrow and narrow path, but I saw that the path was like a dead branch, thrown on the field ridge. Our four floats painted this desolate painting piece by piece.

Oh, we came to the village. But in the drizzle, the small village lay quietly among the small beams. The desolate autumn scenery is cooler than the rain. But the sorghum in front of the village was rustling and clapping its hands to welcome a group of pretentious guests. Suddenly, a puppy strolled by. In timidity, the puppy did not look back, but just walked away alone. In a vegetable garden, chickens in twos and threes are foraging leisurely. In the alley next to him, there were two people looking at him suspiciously. Suddenly, a magpie passed by, awakening a heart that was intoxicated with daydreams about paradise.

We sat around the village committee desk and listened to the villagers’ stories. It is said to be a desk, but it is actually six desks facing each other, which looks a bit shabby. I listened and listened, and couldn't help but fall into deep thought. The outside world is wonderful, and you are alone in this land where you were born and raised. You want to keep the roots here for eternity; you want the soul here to be immortal forever; you want to pass down every plant, tree, brick, stone, and even every story here to future generations. Even if the west wind blows, even if the ice and snow are biting, even if there is a flood of saliva, you will remain determined, like a bull, pulling hard and never looking back. You're not mad, but you don't want your juniors to poke your spine. The outside world is very tempting, with colorful flowers, fine wine and delicious food. You are only attached to the green mountains and beautiful waters here. You want to pass on the pure oxygen bar here to your descendants; you want to pass on the blue sky and white clouds here to future generations; you want to make the pure fragrance of the millet here into the burning torch on the Olympics. Even if you fail, even if you are relegated from the official career, even if your waistline becomes thinner, your heart will always be devoted to the bright sunflower, just like a stubborn donkey, never looking back. The outside world is very helpless, with rampant materialistic desires, changing human relationships, and dusty winds and dust. You are obsessed with the long-standing Yao culture here. You want to plant green pines here and turn it into a mountain of gold and silver; you want to plant the Qingliang Temple here, which has long been a scorched earth, with trees of light; you want to open up the nostalgia here into a vast and famous paradise. Even if it is only a dream, we must brave the wind and rain and walk forward. This is you, but a bright future is destined for you not to be alone. Behind you, stands the head of Yao Temple.

We walked out of the village committee, holding umbrellas, and walked along the red brick path to visit the ruins of Qingliang Temple. Along the way, you may see ancient locust trees looking very old, gourds hanging among the leafy branches, or vegetable gardens resembling lotus pods, which is very interesting. At the end of the day, I came to the ancient Qingliang Temple without realizing it. Whenever this name is mentioned, it is always confused with Qingliang Temple, but it is not the case. According to the "Yushe County Chronicle": Liangsitou "was originally built by monk Liang on the top of the mountain, named Qingliang Temple, and later changed its name." The temple here refers to the temple built at the south end of a stone bridge in the south of the village. Some people say that the name Liang Si Tou comes from the fact that the temple is built on a bridge. However, it has long been impossible to verify. Qingliang Temple has disappeared, and only an old-fashioned stone arch bridge spans a dry river bed and among rocks and thorns. The bridge tunnel is built with pieces of finely carved sandstone, while the bridge body is built with layers of schist. The front entrance was once carved with a dragon head, and the back entrance was once built with a dragon tail, but unfortunately they have been destroyed. It is simple in its essence, and Zen in its simplicity, and the carving skills of the ancestors are evident. Next to the arch bridge, I saw a stone tablet. The inscriptions on the tablet have weathered, leaving only memories. After digging through the grass, a remaining section of wall and a section of bricks seem to be telling the story of the civilization that is gradually disappearing here, which is very sad. On the waist of the hill above the temple site, there stands a pair of green pines that look like lovers in "The Phoenix Seeking the Phoenix". I don't know how many people look back and favor it. How many people have grown up under its gaze, and how many people have been guarding it no matter spring, summer, autumn or winter, it is amazing.

In my excitement, I couldn't help but write a poem [Qinyuanchun] Yao Shen chant:

Looking around Fangshan, there are green ridges, crisscrossing valleys. Look at the steaming clouds and the rosy clouds, the smoke coming out of the dreamland, recalling the present and the past, the crouching tiger and the dragon. I miss Yao the most, burn firewood to worship, and provide shelter for my children and grandchildren Wan Lipeng. We must look back and ask, how many heroes are there on the waves?

The great years pass by in a hurry. But I sigh that this wind has not yet flourished. Fortunately, there are a group of poets who trace their roots and ancestors, recite poems and music, and honor their ancestors. I just hope that I will inherit it and be famous for future generations, trying to compare with the immortal pines in Nanshan. Remember, let the world admire Chinese civilization!