Chapter 17 heartbroken man at the end of the world

Withered vines, old trees and dark crows, small bridges and flowing water, people on the ancient road, westerly wind and thin horses, the sun sets, and heartbroken people are at the end of the world. ——Ma Zhiyuan "Tianjingsha · Autumn Thoughts" I never figured it out.Why can a person, with only 28 characters, describe the meaning of autumn so deeply and clearly, and write so lightly. It looks like -- carelessly. Withered vines, old trees, faint crows, small bridges, flowing water, houses, ancient roads, west wind, thin horses, and people, which one is not a common scene in an ordinary season?Even a random farmer or woodcutter on the road would be able to recognize and articulate something, how could he find it in his Ma Zhiyuan's hands? After arranging it in this way, he opened his spiritual orifice, broke through the wall lightly, and transformed into a Where is the dragon?

"Withered vines, old trees and dark crows", at the beginning of Xiaoling, I wrote from a nearby place. On the branch of an old tree entwined with withered vines, there were several jackdaws, hoarse and hoarse. If you are a remote person, the world is endless and the road is endless, the sun is already evening, and the township gate is still unknown, how can you resist the urging of the old tree and the jackdaw, making people frightened and dreaming cold?The long journey home has caused a flood of nostalgia. How can the heavy-footed Liren wade back? Rattans, trees, and crows are common sights in the countryside, and there is nothing special about them, but once they are combined with "dry", "old" and "faint", a sense of desolation and death immediately permeates between the lines.Like a black cloud that is gradually approaching, it gradually envelops people's hearts.

"Small bridges and flowing water", on the way back with a dry yellow, suddenly saw a small bridge and flowing water in the distance, and village households living around the water; the sky was filled with cooking smoke, curling with the wind, like the uncontrollable pain in the body of a wanderer. country soul. The wind blows for tens of thousands of miles, and it is difficult for the dream soul to reach Guanshan. This man, leading the skinny horse, walked across the bridge.The stream was clear, and he saw his own face, wrinkled like a mountain, and his temples were already grey.Old, this word that has never stopped in my heart, suddenly and abruptly appeared in front of me, so fierce that people could not escape!

What a young boy he used to be, riding his horse and whipping his whip, thinking that his fame and ideals are all in the distance; he thought that with a single gun, with a burst of heat in his chest, he would surely conquer the world and rise to the top.world?Where can not become the world? , Princes and generals have a kindness?No matter how peerless a hero is, it is not the only flower in this world. When the time comes, there will naturally be a new flower to replace it. Good men all think that they are different, and that the blessings and longevity they carry in their lives are more important than others.However, all ambitions and ambitions have been consumed by time and turned into ashes, and I have to realize that maybe I am just an ordinary person; then, thinking of those dim lights like beans, the warm soup, and the warm hands of my mother, Xu Xu's exhortation; his wife's clear eyes and slender figure.Missing fell like snow, I want to know, how are they at home?

Those warm existences that depended on for survival once felt so insignificant.Never before have I had endless yearning and longing for a leisurely and peaceful pastoral life like now.Walking staggeringly on the ancient road, watching the shadow of the sun and the mountains in the distance.The setting sun also knows how to go home, so what about people? Why do you have to wait until you are lost before picking up the ordinary ones?Young people, if you don't go out and experience something, how can you be willing to live a dull life?The greed, or pursuit, of the human heart is like an empty sea that cannot be satisfied.

The ancient road, the west wind, and the thin horse.I used to be burdened by love and love, but now I know lovesickness is heavy.The longer you experience, the more you think about it.Neither people nor horses can carry the nostalgia like mountains and seas. The sun was setting.Desperate to haggard for a lifetime, only a few evenings? Heartbroken people are at the end of the world.It turned out that the ups and downs of pain, in the end, was nothing more than a slight shattering in the bottom of my heart.The heart is broken, but the person is still in the end of the world. Ma Zhiyuan's Xiaoling, just 28 characters, does not need an "autumn", but it describes the desolate and desolate scene of the late autumn, and it does not need a "thinking", but it vividly describes the strong nostalgia and worries of wanderers.As the so-called "do not use a word, you can be romantic", it has always been praised as a masterpiece describing nature, and it can be called "the ancestor of autumn thoughts" ("Central Plains Rhyme").

Some people say that Ma Zhiyuan is a kind of sentimentality.In China, Ma Zhiyuan does not simply represent the name of a certain ancient poet, but is confused with the little order called "Tianjingsha·Autumn Thoughts", creating a bleak and desolate artistic conception - Ma Zhiyuan's artistic conception. Ma Zhiyuan is a dry vine, Ma Zhiyuan is an old tree, and Ma Zhiyuan is a faint crow; while the background is a small bridge, flowing water, and people.Of course, Ma Zhiyuan is also an ancient way, Ma Zhiyuan is also a west wind, and Ma Zhiyuan is also a thin horse... When the sun was setting, Ma Zhiyuan was still the heartbroken man far away in the world.But why is Tianya not Ma Zhiyuan?And sunset?

In the twilight, the person who rode a skinny horse and wandered far away from his hometown embodies the typical Chinese down-and-out literati temperament - down and out, melancholy and helpless, with the first autumn on the temples, tears in the sky, waiting for the country to grow old, decadent and sad Return to... Such a long-standing Chinese ink painting painted on Xuan or silk has a natural and decadent beauty, which suits the tastes of poets, elegant scholars, and even dignitaries. To this day, Ma Zhiyuan is still chilled by the autumn wind, the yellow dust is endless, and the way back to the end of the world when the red sun is sinking.Most Chinese people want to stop for a while to rest their tired and uninhibited souls...

A small order like "Tianjingsha · Autumn Thoughts" is more like a simple and moving myth, which cannot be obtained by reciting hard.Even in Ma Zhiyuan's body, it should be a myth, something that can never be met, like a night when the sky was full of stars, there was a person who was looking up at the sky, and was lucky to be stained with the brilliance of the entire skirt, shaking and trembling, indescribable. Then, finally one day, this man with a swaying heart was able to slowly talk about his amazement at that moment. "Tianjingsha · Autumn Thoughts", it seems that God feels the sorrow of the common people, so he uses Ma Zhiyuan to speak out to comfort people.After Ma Zhiyuan, Qiu Si, the wine of sorrow, gradually became rich and heart-breaking poison, with a peerless fragrance, but it is a pity that one sip will break the heart.

I thought from "Tianjingsha · Autumn Thoughts" that they were all works of Ma Zhiyuan, a famous play written by the "Qu Zhuangyuan" of the Yuan Dynasty. Wang Qiang obeyed the emperor's order, and went out to make a marriage in full vigor and vigor, but she was just a woman who left her hometown, wearing heavy makeup, colorful clothes, and rings.Life is like a play.The emperor, the Yan clan, and Shan Yu are all actors after all, and they are all just a passing scene in life.Seeing the graceful figure and hearing the rich history, even if it is a big play, it still can't hide the empty air on the stage, and everyone on the stage is injured.

The slender Zhaojun got on his horse and marched towards Hudi.The wind blows her temples, her face hurts from cutting her face; she holds a pipa in her arms as a Hujia, and the tragic song "Eighteen Beats" is endless; the wild geese fall at the sound, is it because of her beauty or the pervasive sadness? Under the fancy clothes, she has a thin and slender body. She can't forget her Han Palace years.Autumn after autumn passed, she leaned against the palace gate, dreaming of Chengen.The king does not come.All because he was arrogant back then and didn't give that despicable Mao Yanshou a little bribe. She has no regrets.She is so beautiful, it should be a dazzling touch in this world, why should she tarnish it with gold, she disdains. Seeing the leaves falling, what was once green like jade has turned to withered yellow.She laughed, wondering how many years she could endure?The grass and trees also know their sorrows, and the youthful flowers are graying, sighing in this life, who will give up and who will take it? Later, Hu Hanxie Shanyu from afar came to propose marriage, and she decided to go out of the fortress.From then on, the peace of the two countries depended on her, just like the people of the Tang Dynasty sighed: The country depends on the Lord, and the safety depends on the woman. I can't forget the first time I saw him in the hall.The person sitting in the dragon court is the king she dreams of. This man looked at her like crazy.She smiled, as bleak as the autumn wind.Life is so desolate.Who would have expected that the first meeting between him and her would be to close. Your Majesty, so what if Mao Yanshou beheaded?We can't go back.Han Gongyuan, she stopped condensedly, overturned the grievances accumulated in the past few years, and poured them on him.Once she belonged to him, but he gave it to someone else with his own hands.Now, she was standing in front of him, so close to him.No matter how much you love, you can't get close. In the history of the Qing Dynasty of the Han family, the trick is to make peace.The misery brewed by his decision must be borne by him himself. leave.Looking back at the palace for the last time, and the man standing sadly on the jade steps. In the sky, Han Gongyue, cold, sad and silent. Even if there is a team of cars like running water and horses like dragons driving, there is still a grand welcome from Hu Hanxie in the distance, but no hometown, no country, no old friends, no matter how prosperous the concubine tears, no matter how prosperous it is, it can't hide her soul. The bleakness rippling inside. How can the appearance of jade be compared to clean sand and dust. Wang Zhaojun, who looks at the yellow sand as far as the eye and has a long history, is just a heartbroken man in the end of the world.