Chapter 10 The ups and downs of the Six Dynasties are all gossips of fishermen and woodcutters

Time is a river, you always remember it, but it doesn't remember you.Time is also a wisp of smoke. When you think it exists, it has actually disappeared.How many dynasties have changed and how many influential figures have withdrawn from the stage of history with the passing of thousands of years.Up to now, the wind and smoke are all quiet, the rivers and lakes have changed, the mountains and rivers remain the same, and the feelings are on paper.Those old men who took off their robes carried a jug of old wine every day and fished for white clouds by the stream.Those women leaning on the chai gate have already seen Fang Fei to the full.Those poets who climbed the tower to admire the moon did not know whose dreams they walked into.The ancient capitals of the Six Dynasties used to be far away, thousands of years away from us; the ancient capitals of the Six Dynasties used to be very close, the distance between the stage and the audience.

Yanyun Sunyue, Fendai Chunqiu, opened the book with lowered eyebrows, thinking that the lost history should be too cold, but there is still lingering warmth slipping through his fingers.The green time, the silent ancient ink, and the yellowed book paper with a faint musty smell all seem to remind us that we can't go back.Once exposed to the wind and sun and the rise and fall of the Six Dynasties, I thought that the dust accumulated over the years would be too vicissitudes to bear to witness.But I didn't want to, after the streamer's deletion and natural washing, it became simple and clean.So those who were bound by the cocoon spun out, using the annual ring blade to cut off the mottled scabs, and gradually softened in the sun.This is the charm of time, it turns hands into clouds, turns hands into rain, and its flow has a certain irregular law. If we can't grasp it and go against it, we will never be able to get together.

The first time I read this poem, I fell in love with this poem at first sight - "Li Ting Yan".A picture suddenly appeared in my mind, the swallow left its warm nest where it had built its dream in the long pavilion, and flew to the boundless sky.From then on, thousands of miles of mountains, thousands of mountains and snow at dusk, can it find companions and build a home together?Or a lifetime of wandering, lonely forever?These are all my wishful thinking, like a fool's dream, let it go after hearing it. "Liting Swallow" is also known as "Liting Banquet", and "Zhang Ziye Ci Supplement" has the words "Liting Farewell Banquet", so it is named after it.Suddenly, when reading Song Ci, it seems that one must first understand the Ci Pai. Ci Pai is like the hometown of Ci, and those sentences can settle down here, brewing emotions and cultivating stories.

Zhang Min, born in the early Southern Song Dynasty, experienced the Song Dynasty from its prosperity to its decline. This poem was written by Zhang Min during his retreat.In the eighth year of Dazhong Xiangfu (1015), he became a Jinshi, an official to Yushi Zhongcheng, a political adviser and a privy envoy, and became an official as a prince and grand teacher.Xining died ten years ago, at the age of eighty-six, posthumously named Kangjie.I used to dislike reading texts that introduce the ancients in this way, but now I feel that there is great beauty hidden in the simplicity.No need for profound language, no need for delicate expression, just a few lines of words, you can see the cause and effect of the author's life.Right and wrong, success and failure, rise and fall, honor and disgrace, are just a brief moment, too late for joy or pain, they pass by in a blink of an eye and disappear into smoke.

The first film of the poem is about the picturesque landscapes in Jinling area, the desolate scenery, and the shining autumn flowers.Climbing high and looking far away, you can see the vast Yangtze River rushing to a distant direction. The sky and water are connected, as if there is no end.Thousands of miles of clear sky presents a clear color, and the rippling river waves flicker with cool light.This clarity will allow you to walk out of the narrow space of thinking, forget about the glitz and desolation, and just want to be an innocent and indifferent person in the troubled world.Compared with nature, man is always so small and insignificant.Nature is ever-changing, changing wonderful artistic conceptions every moment.We are just a grain of sand on the bank of the river. When the sun passes by, we may still shine. Maybe our whole life will be submerged in darkness.You see, in Jiangzhou, Liaoyu Dihua is also like an old man who has gone through vicissitudes. In the autumn wind, there is a bit of deep world flavor flowing.Among the dense Polygonum clumps, there are looming huts with bamboo fences. In this way, in the clean and dust-free painting environment, we can see fireworks and people.

As far as the eye can see, the sails of passenger ships hang high in the clouds, and they arrive from one shore to the other. I don't know where will be the next harbor to take them in?The restaurant's flag hangs low in the wind, and the people of Jinling City gather together to feast on purple crabs.Looking at everything in front of him, the old stories of Jinling came to the poet's mind. "How many things happened in the Six Dynasties", in just three hundred years, the city has experienced the rise and fall of six dynasties, so many heroes, and so many stories, but up to now, it is "all gossip of fishermen and woodcutters".The vicissitudes of hundreds of years have just fallen into the simple gossip of fishermen and woodcutters, so light that there is almost no trace.As the river goes east and west, all honors and disgraces, success or failure, are turned into a pot of wine of memory, dipped in the haze, and drunk.

Climbing high only feels the coldness, and leaning on the building can't help feeling melancholy.Looking back at history, exploring the future, and thinking about the present.Seeing a round of red sun set silently, it is like the current imperial court, from prosperity to decline, how far away is the bright moon still?Although the poet has retired to the officialdom, now with Gao Shuxiao, he composes poems near the water, watching the snow waves and clouds on the Jiangzhu, and the grass flowers on the Liaoyu Island beside Shating.The heart is leisurely and open-minded, thinking that mediocrity has long been forgotten, but there is still a little bit of reluctance, a little bit of untimely sadness.

Whenever I read this poem, I can't help but chant the song "Linjiang Immortal" in the first volume of "Three Kingdoms": This poem is desolate and calm. After reading it, people can feel the deep meaning of eternity in the country and the ephemerality of life.How many heroes have disappeared without a trace along with the river.Right and wrong, success or failure, are just like the rolling waves. When they come, they are turbulent, and when they go, they are clear and untraceable.Never old green hills, watching the sunset day after day, seeing all the scorching world.The white-haired fishermen and woodcutters are senior scholars who have retired from the world. They have long been accustomed to seeing the autumn moon and spring breeze, and they take pleasure in meeting friends.Those troubled stories from ancient to modern times have also become gossip and jokes while drinking, like yellow flowers that have been frosted in autumn, so light that they are not worth mentioning.

A bleak flute sound led to the song sung by Mao Amin: "The shadow of swords and swords is dimmed, and the drums and horns are far away... Rise and death are determined by others, and prosperity and decline are not grounded... Gathering and parting are fate, parting and parting are always about love." Ah...the Yangtze River is intentionally turned into tears, and the Yangtze River sings with love..." The singing is sentimental and sad, as if it wants to clean the sky of history.A friend once told me that only Mao Amin can sing this kind of taste, a taste of the world and history.

It's time for the rain to return to the boat. In the past, the sword is like a dream, playing a song of flowing water on the qin without strings.Drink a pot of yellow flower wine, get drunk in the maple forest, white clouds are the quilt, and a stone pillow.There is nothing to worry about life and death.Green water and green mountains, my heart is always at peace.