I've always believed it
There was a secret passage in the voice
It can go straight to the heart
- "Sometimes for the Text".
Hello everyone, I'm Liu Jun, welcome to listen to Fengshou Reader, this is an audio program launched by the Volkswagen **client, here, we feel the power of words together.
Writer Liu Liangcheng said: "In the loneliest time when I was in my twenties and thirties, I wrote a good book in a daze. At that time I could understand the wind and smile at the flowers. I believe in animism. A writer is the kind of person who can talk to a stone. I allowed myself to be alone in the wilderness of a village, quietly listening to the spirit of all things. Later, when I spoke, I felt that everything was listening. ”
That's a great way to say that!
Liu Liangcheng wrote a good book called "One Man's Village", and the name of the village is Huangshaliang, which is a mud nest on the edge of the Gobi Desert, a village where people and animals live together. It can't be found on the map, like many dilapidated and barren villages, no one cares about its prosperity, decay and demise, probably except for Liu Liangcheng. So after reading this book, the thoughts that lingered in his mind were what kind of mission urged him to put the bits and pieces of Huangshaliang on paper. A smiling flower, a runaway horse, a house that is low and people live, and the courtyard wall that the wind blows. He writes everything that is ignored and forgotten by normal people. Like an ant tirelessly pulling the rice grains for the winter, it seems that it can't live without it.
Today I will read you one of the books, "Sleeping with Bugs".
Sleep with insects
Liu Liangcheng
When I fell asleep in the grass, my body became a warm nest of many small bugs. The little creatures of all shapes and shapes got in through my cuffs, necklines, and trouser legs, crawling all over me, biting twice from time to time, and filling their little bellies red. When you have enough to eat and play, you will find a secret place to sleep soundly.
I don't know anything about what is happening in my body. I had been digging all afternoon that day, hungry and tired. I wanted to lie down on the ground for a while and then walk back, but the land was still several miles away from the village, and I forgot to save some strength to go home while I was working. It's summer, and the sounds of insects, frogs, and growing grains in the fields are intertwined like a huge lullaby. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the ground, and I didn't know what it was when it was dark, and I didn't notice that the moon was rising and setting. When I woke up, it was another morning, and I was surrounded by insects of all colors, and they had already woken up before I did their business. These industrious little beings have left many red and itchy little bumps on my body, proving that they have come. I think they slept as well as I did. There were a few little ones who were so comfortable in my pants that they didn't want to come out. If it weren't for the itching that was unpleasant, I wouldn't have taken off my pants and caught them.
What a vast field my body is for these little worms, just as I lie in this corner of the earth at the moment, but the earth will not catch me and throw me away because of itching and discomfort. The earth is asleep, and how forgiving it is. In the bosom of the earth, I am not much bigger than a bug. We know that there are so many bugs in the world, so we should name them together and classify them by family. And do the bugs know us?Do these little insects know that there is a big insect like Liu Liangcheng in the world?Some worms die in the twilight of life, while others have a short life of only a few months or days, and they leave in a hurry before they have time to do anything. There is no time to build a house, create culture and art. I don't have time to think about myself and others. Life is so simple that only happiness remains. We, the wise beings, are looking for pain and trouble for a long time. How happy it should be for a person who listens to the hustle and bustle of the city to lie on the field and listen to the sound of insects. The ** of the earth will never end. And who knows how rushed and ephemeral each note of these eternal notes is.
I was known by so many bugs because I slept in the fields. They seemed to like me at once, admiring the taste of my flesh and blood. A few bugs, apparently walking around my face a few times while I was asleep, must have recognised me as well. Now, they have a few housekeepers on me, and the rest are running around the grassy beach to tell each other, calling on friends, and spreading the news of my discovery to all the people they meet. I even felt thousands of bugs coming at me from all directions. My blood boiled, as if my decades-long dream of becoming famous was about to come true. Who do I know of you, poor little worms, and how I will shake hands with you one by one. Your backs are too narrow to sign my name, and your voices are so weak that they are almost nothing. What can I say to you?
When thousands of insects came to me, I had returned to a corner of the world, doing one thing in obscurity, few people knew my name, I didn't know a few people, I didn't know who was dead and who was still alive. Listening to the insects year after year made me feel the eternity of the little insects. And I'm spending the last dozens of years in the world. Facing the loess, there was no cry.
Thank you for listening to today's harvest reader, I am Jun Liu, if you have a favorite book or article, please let me know, here, we share the power of words together.
Curator: Song Tao.
Reader: Liu Jun.
Production: Chen Hui.