The life of the world, the distractions of affairs, are all full of porridge and rice in the end. A porridge and a meal are enough to run around for a lifetime. Li Zongsheng wrote mortal songs, writing about the helplessness of mortals and the hope of mortals. You and I are mortals, born in the world, there is nothing wrong with mortals, or why would the Weaver Girl go down to earth and stay with Dong Yong in the world;The thousand-year-old snake demon Bai Suzhen and Xu Xian fell in love with each other, desperate. Demons and immortals all yearn for the world, it can be seen that the world is excellent, and it is also very good to be a mortal.
In the tall skyscrapers, the busy streets are paved, and the bustling morning market is full of busy figures. Living in the complicated world, we often make the common mistake of not knowing the true face of Lushan only because we are in Lushan. The smoke curling in the countryside in the morning and dusk, the happy laughter of children in the alleys, and the cattle ploughing in the fields, as if the fireworks are easy to read. The pavilion office building, the modern factory, the majestic organs, look a lot less pyrotechnics. Treat the things around you, it is always difficult for mortals to be objective, always like the view of Lushan Mountain, looking horizontally into the side of the ridge into a peak, far and near the height is different. Obviously, we all live in the human world, and we paint our own fireworks according to our own appearance.
The fireworks in the world nourish mortals, but also fascinate mortals, while the complicated life, while looking at poetry and the distance, just because of the nourishment and infiltration of fireworks in the world, poetry and distance also frequently beckon. After reading the daily life of Wang Zengqi's pen, those little Wen, I understood that probably the fireworks in the world can also be like poetry, and the fireworks in the world are the most soothing to the hearts of mortals.
The thin two oblique winds are cold, the light smoke is sparse and the willow eyebrows are clear, and the Qingluo into Huai is gradually long. The snow foam milk flower floats in the afternoon, and the artemisia shoots try the spring plate, and the taste of the world is Qinghuan". It turns out that the bland happiness in the world is the real taste, Su Shi's career has gone through ups and downs, and his life is super open-minded, Su Shi told us that "the taste of the world is pure joy".
Eilechuan, under the Yin Mountain. The sky is like a dome, and the pen covers the four fields. The sky is blue, the wilderness is vast, the wind blows the grass and sees the cattle and sheep". The scenery of the northern country, far away, empty, the cattle and sheep sheltered by the grass, the strong wind blows while stuffing, and as far as the eye can see, it is like a white cloud, brilliant jewels are inlaid in the grass, and the breath of life is at a glance. In the vast grasslands of Inner Mongolia, shepherding cattle and sheep dot the vast sea of grass, the yurt in the depths of the grassland wafts the fragrance of butter tea, and the burning cow dung exudes a faint smell of grass. The melodious horse qin leads to the long Mongolian tune, which is long and low, and the dust and smoke of history are called out, and there are golden horses and iron ges in the dust and smoke, and there are curved bows and eagle owls. The smoke and fire gas on the side are deep, and the smoke and fire gas are already dignified and far-reaching.
The rural bazaar, choose an open place to temporarily become a downtown area, the momentum is magnificent, bold, and there is no lack of pure fluttering atmosphere. The strong rural sound wanders in the bazaar, falls on the melons and vegetables that are still stained with wind and dew, and there are various items such as clothes and delicacies from afar, which are relegated to the countryside and villages by the shrewd villagers. The characteristics of the hometown are often concentrated in the most prosperous part of the market, rows of wooden table oranges are fixed in the old place, the owner does not know how many generations have changed, but the delicious taste has not changed, just for the hometown that travels far away, wandering outside, and then taste the hometown delicacy when returning to his hometown. The local pronunciation does not change, and the local flavor does not change. The fireworks in this city will make you feel a lot of nostalgia for fear of provoking passers-by.
Residential buildings in urban areas, after living for a long time, the traces of smoke and smoke are thicker and more obvious, and after several whitewashes, it is difficult to hide the fireworks soaked in oil. The house has been changed a few times, and the hot milk pot is still reluctant to be discarded, just like those old **, they can always find space to settle in the hesitation, and they are left behind. Everywhere I go, the first thing I think of is to look for familiar snacks and familiar tastes in the street, and only the familiar taste of fireworks can warm and soothe the stomach of early risers.
The smoke and fire were unconsciously sown, spreading everywhere, and the pot of green plants on the desk carried the careful thoughts of lovers;The lunch box is full of mother's nagging;The cute fabric ornaments in the car are the masterpieces of his wife and children, and they warm the men on the road. This burst of fireworks warmed the fatigue of the day.
The customs and customs of a place can be hidden in the fireworks of the market, scattered in the street food, in the secret places of the deep alleys, and even the birds on the branches are also contaminated with the local atmosphere, with a unique sweet bird song, singing the beauty of the world.
Fireworks in the world are poems, how many poets in ancient and modern times, nostalgic for the comfort of the world, do not tend to flatter against their hearts, give up fame and fortune, and return to the countryside. Tao Yuanming's Tian Yuan poems write how many hermits' state of mind, Wang Wei's "Mountain Dwelling Autumn Dusk" "After the new rain in the empty mountain, the weather is late in autumn, the bright moon shines among the pines, and the clear spring stone is upstream." The bamboo noise returns to the raccoon girl, the lotus moves under the boat, the spring rest at will, and the king and grandson can stay". It is also a landscape painting of the world, a quiet and beautiful music, so I can't bear to reprimand Wang Wei's escaping emotions.
The fireworks in the world are warm and cold, the love is priceless, and every grass and tree in the fireworks in the world has a taste, and every flower, one leaf and one world.