Chapter 3 life record

Shen Congwen one In the afternoon, I leaned against a low wall, bathed in the lukewarm sun.Spring is coming, all the grass, all the trees are not green yet, but the sun is very lovely. I recognize spring by the light of the sun. There was no strong wind, and the sky was all blue.I am the same as everything, bathed in this warm evening sun, speechless. "Pine tree, why don't you make the same noise as last night to scare me?" "That's the wind, so I mean it!" There was a slight breeze moving among the trees, and he promised me with a small voice! "You are shameless, you only come at night!"

"Then why don't you often live in the sun?" I fell silent. Because I was tired and my waist was hurting, I wanted to cry.Isn't it shameful to cry in the sun?I was afraid that the pair of yellow chickens lying on their sides by the root of the pine tree under the wall would laugh at me, so they stopped crying. "Happy thing, tomorrow I will teach Lao Tian to kill you!" "Because of jealousy," the wind among the pine trees teased me. I'm jealous of everything, not just people!I wanted everything, and I stretched out my hand. Others threw the work into my hands, and didn't see what I wanted.I waited and waited, my job was taken away, I looked at it casually, and put it down to another place, but I still didn't get what I hoped for.

The second time, and the third time, it was still work thrown at me.My soul was deluded by other hopes. After receiving the work, I bowed my head and worked in a small musty room, and then I stretched out my hand when I was done. What I got was still work! I have seen other friends, hungry and cold, stretch out their hand to catch the work that came their way, and when it was done, stretch out their hand again until the flame of the soul had burnt out, and the outstretched hand remained vacant, stiff and let the indifferent I don't know how many people have carried them into the soil. I'm a little jealous of this kind of ghost that burns out and rests in heat.I can't sleep peacefully like them!In the dream someone was chasing me and throwing jobs I couldn't do, how could I not be jealous of those ghosts who lost their heat?

I thought, lowered my head, no longer caring about the chicken shaking its feet exposed to the sun laughing at me, and still crying. When my tears fall, I am jealous of them. Tears can fall to the ground and disappear quickly. I don't want my body to perish before my soul is hot.Can anyone tell me how to destroy the body with the fire of the soul?I call him brother, friend, master—or something better, just tell me the way! I suddenly remembered why I haven't finished burning this fire after so many years of wandering. Studying it, who is secretly increasing my heat. ——Mother, the thin yellow and haggard face is what I wrote down when I first went out to be someone else’s deputy soldier...——Sister, I went home once and saw my gray military uniform, because the gray military uniform messed us up He became a little stranger, and hid behind his mother; his head was tied with a blue silk scarf, because his forehead was hurt when he played with the water the day before... ——Brother, said "drink less", He replied, "It will be difficult to see you in the future."Seeing that there was only an inch left on the second candle, he said, "It's been like this since I heard the rooster crowing outside the pass." Big tears flowed down the thin cheeks that were reddened by wine... face a little fatter,"

The mere remembrance of this one thing will never quench my fire. If this is forgotten, I will withdraw my hand, and there will be no more hope. ... It can be proved that the sun is sinking behind the mountains when the spring is coming.My back still hurts. He wanted to pick up a stone to hit that proud pair of yellow chickens, but the chickens clucked and ran away. After throwing the pebbles into the air, I was only prepared to be threatened by the wind at night. two The gray curtain covers everything, the moon will come out when it can't, and many stars are moving.Under the building that only left a square outline, people can still know that they are living together in this world, but I can't believe that there are still two living people in the world.I also refuse to believe that there are still living things in the world.For all is dead still, and there is no wind.

I didn't move, I leaned on the porch and listened to my breath. If the world is always dead and silent like this, my body will not have to move, I will be dead, and let my thoughts live and lead the world.Everything that was born in front of my eyes will come alive again in my mind, no matter enemy or friend, even the blood-sucking mosquito that I accidentally crushed to death. I am going to suffer another insult that you people of the world have given me. I want to see once more the cruelty of human beings that I have ever seen. I'm chasing the loss of those tears and laughter.

I want to catch every moon in the past and compare them. I will weigh the affection my friends send me. I want to rub the eyes of the man who broke my heart into a permanent wound. I want to laugh like I did when I was young. I want to roll on the ground and cry, just like I cried when I was young! ………… I didn't have such good luck, and it was impossible to prolong this dead air for another time or half-a flute, a little farther than the pile of buildings with only outlines left, raised its throat and sang . He couldn't tell whether he was angry or happy, but what the children said was innocence.

"Little friend, you take the flute out of your mouth, like me, lean against the wall or a tree, and sit down when the flagstones on the ground are clean. The two of us come to this dead world, and each of us lives the past world Wouldn't it be nice to be in your mind? There, you can see everything you love, much better than playing the flute!" My voice is not as sharp as a flute, so of course he won't hear it. The flute was blowing again, out of tune, which just proved his innocence. At this time, he doesn't need to live the world in his thoughts, as you can tell from the happy tune of his flute.

"Little friend, you shouldn't be doing this! No one else is making a sound. Why do you disturb the peace with your insincere tunes? You have destroyed all my lovely resurrected things, sinner!" The flute is still playing.If he knew how destructive his flute was, he might be able to put down the flute with some sympathy. I can't think about anything, just follow the sound of the flute. Along the flute, I remembered a story. When I was six to eight years old, a Miao old man in my family told me many stories.Regarding the flute, she said that there used to be an emperor who liked to laugh and laugh every day and became crazy.Queen can't.Hang out the reward, and reward the princess who cured the emperor well.This time there will be more people.The princess is as beautiful as a flower, and everyone wants to take this flower home.But no one can think of any good way.Some people even brought his own son to the emperor and cut off his limbs. The emperor still laughed!There are also many such stupid ways.The emperor laughed even harder in the future.Later, a man appeared, looking like a countryman, in short clothes, holding a bamboo in his hand.The queen asked: Can you cure the emperor's illness?The visitor nodded.

He asked him what medicine he wanted, and the countryman handed the bamboo to the queen.There are eyes on the bamboo, but the queen still doesn't understand.A countryman seems to be honest, let him try it.Seeing the emperor, the man put the bamboo near his mouth, and when he breathed out a little, the emperor stopped smiling.After the first paragraph, the emperor's laughing disease also recovered.Everyone likes it very much. ...The princess naturally returned to the country people.However, after the princess learned to play the flute, the queen killed the countryman. ... From then on, the flute has been handed down. Because of such a tragedy, the sound of the flute sounds very sad.

The Ah Sang people died long ago, and perhaps only this myth in the seedlings is left. (May she be in peace!) From then on, I felt that it was very appropriate for the flute to be used by monks and Taoists. Because the flute has the ability to make people cry, when you are in the dojo to meet the dead, if you can't cry because of the funeral, you can make the flute dig his tears! Weeping while listening to the flute is a childhood thing, although it may not be that someone died in the family.Because of this, the second sister laughed at me for being a child, and there were many times.Later, at her funeral, a master was picking up the flute to make the family members cry. I thought of how my second sister laughed at me when she was born, and I fainted from crying. I've grown up recently, although there are many things that have cultivated me to retain my childish temper, but the flute can't make me cry.Recently, when I heard the flute, I followed the sound of the flute and flew into the void, recreating those things related to the flute in the past. When I grow up, the feeling is natural and blunt. The flute stopped, and I suddenly felt empty. ——Little flute player, what are you thinking too?Are you looking at the sky alone and thinking about something?I hope you are at an age that only knows how to play the flute!If you really know how to think like me, and quietly want to grab some past dreams from this, I hope you will play the flute again!The younger one, what sad memories, he will never play the flute again!Let's blow it, it's late at night, otherwise you'll be able to sleep! As if knowing that I was looking forward to it, the flute was blowing again, the sound changed slightly, probably an older person. Looking up at the sky, it is black, but there are more and brighter stars. three In the midsummer day after the rain, although the twittering of sparrows makes people feel a little monotonous and lonely, but there is no sand blown by the wind, and it is not boring to sit under the locust tree with a book and read. My ears were always buzzing from streetcars all day long, and suddenly I came to this semi-rural school again.It's called Camel Village, but I haven't seen a camel with a lime bag on it, probably they are all resting at this time.You can hear the lively sound of chickens here, which is a new discovery I made when I came to Beijing.These small-throated cries were mingled with the amiable call of the cows on the farm calling their calves, and echoed by the rogue partridges sitting in the shade of the elm grove. I haven't heard the sound of chickens for at least two years, and I heard the sound of chickens in the countryside at Sanliping Farm in Yuanzhou at ten o'clock.Maybe there are other reasons, the sound of a rooster, no matter whether it is midnight in a deserted village or a sunny day, always gives me a deep and new emotion.The longing and nostalgia of the past, and I will also find them in these long monotonous sounds that may sound to others but feel that the summer is too long to make people tired and sleepy. When I first came to Beijing, I loved listening to the whistle of the train.From this, I discovered its greatness, and my unruly ambition often followed those whining sounds to the unknowable vastness of the horizon.But this is just a kind of sustenance in an empty and lonely guest apartment!If you compare it with the crowing of chickens singing to each other at noon in the countryside, the fun is different. I have never been woken up by the sound of a chicken in the middle of the night in my apartment before.As for the daytime, apart from the rumble of the tram, there is the sound of a hundred-tone ensemble!I haven't even heard "clack" when a hen lays an egg.So I suspected that the residents in Beijing had never raised a live chicken.However, I knew that my guess was wrong. Every time I went to a restaurant for acquaintance, I always heard names such as "spicy chicken" and "smoked chicken".When I went to the vegetable market to play, I seemed to see some fresh chickens in the bamboo cages under the small stalls (can stretch their wings, walk around, lower their heads and clean their wings with their beaks, but they don’t make a sound) .They are like mutes, standing close to each other without making a sound.If a person who has never seen a chicken just bases on the appearance of a chicken based on the legend in books or other people's mouths that "chickens are brave and fierce, and can sing...", then, seeing this chicken in a cage, I will Dare to say that he would never believe that this is a chicken! The reason why they can't crow, or it's not that they can't crow (because all chickens can crow, even the mother-in-law can "cluck"), is just that they are always frightened, thinking about the sharp knife, the boiling water, and worrying. Forget about calling it!This is not surprising at all. For example, when we are sad and bored (not dead), aren't we even reluctant to speak? However, I am still puzzled, which is: Although the chickens in Beijing are always in fear of being slaughtered, are the chickens in other places not used to be slaughtered?Why do chickens in other places sing happily?So I thought Beijing was weird. Looking at the silent dark blue sky, thinking about the weirdness of Beijing, I got a little tired from those chicken songs.The little creatures in the sun, the wild mosquitoes, dangling in the air like shooting stars, seem to be more cheerful and lively. I remembered the two classical sentences "flying like a frightened dragon like a swimming dragon". Four Ye Lai heard the sound of pattering rain, accompanied by humming and rumbling light thunder, and counted the disappearance of the sun and moon this year with his fingers, remembering that the Duanyang Festival, which was interesting when he was a child, was approaching. This kind of rain falls for dragon boat rowing in my hometown.If you listen to it in your hometown, you will silently count the raindrops, happy for the long and narrow wooden boats that have been lying in the warehouse of the Dragon King Temple for a year, the joy of childlike innocence, even the dream is sweet and comfortable! There is not a small river in Beijing that is sufficient for the dragon boat races during the May Festival, so I feel that Duanyang in Beijing is lonely.There is no small river for dragon boating, and the rain for dragon boating keeps falling like this, so I feel that this rain is also very lonely and boring. The rain is falling with a splash, let’s regard it as the night rain in my hometown: Jiumei, who has been lying on the bed for a long time, wakes up from a thunderstorm, and when she hears the sound of rain, she is afraid and happy. He hugged his mother's neck, who was sleeping head to head, and said very softly: "Mom, mom, wake up. You heard it's raining again! The street will flood tomorrow, and the river will naturally flood too. Don't worry about it." The jumping rock in the Beimen River was flooded. We saw that the dragon boat had to go to the Diaolou of the second brother’s godfather again! The Diaolou on the bridge is good, but if there is no flood, we can still stand there Aunt Yuying’s house is a lower place to watch. Anyway, it’s more interesting. I’m afraid of the height of the building. We don’t set off firecrackers. What’s the point of standing on such a tall building? Mom, Mom, tell me Look: Is it better to go to the tall building where the second brother's godfather is, or Aunt Yuying's house?" "My baby said it all, you can go wherever you like. That's where you say it's good." Mom replied, if this can satisfy Jiumei, then Jiumei will no longer She made a sound, and closed her eyes again to dream of her dragon boat. The next morning, if I say: ——Lao Jiu, Lao Jiu, the water is flooding again.Tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, see the dragon boat coming soon!How about the clothes you have prepared?It's been less than ten days anyway! She would run to mother again to urge her to sew the new floral silk dress quickly, saying that she would not make a fool of herself wearing the old checked foreign yarn dress again.In fact, the only thing missing from her new dress was a row of buttons and the collar was unfinished, but she couldn't be stopped from chattering with her mother. Since it rains heavily at night, the wooden basins and barrels placed under the eaves will be full of rainwater in the morning. This rain saves us the effort of going to the street to sell water and Lao Jiang to enter the house.The bamboo leaves for making rice dumplings will be washed and rinsed in these buckets. As long as it is raining, you don't need to ask his size, it can lead the children to the joy of the Dragon Festival.The adults will add a bit of busyness to the rain. But the rain sometimes falls on the 5th day without knowing it. (It's a matter of God, who can tell?) So, these days, every child has a little work--a job that no child will not rush to do: praying.They sincerely prayed that it would never rain on that day, even if the sky was cloudy and there was no sun.The meaning of their prayers is like praying to heaven, they pray silently with their hearts, but they are embarrassed to say it out of their mouths.Since this is something for ordinary children, both Jiumei and Sixth Brother couldn't help but secretly make a wish—the older me, even though I am older, wished for a clear sky no less than the two of them. So, there was another quarrel in the middle.For example, someone who is a little timid said something. "I guess it's going to rain that day." That one said, "No, no, never! I bet who: it's raining, and I'll give you twenty slaps and kowtow to you. If not, you'll do it for me—" "I guess so I want to do it, but not too much." Said the guilty man Ruo Ruo very confidently. "Then I'll bet you." Needless to say, those who protect Tianqing from this aspect will already be furious when they hear that the rain is bound to fall!But if you are so suspicious that the people who talk about rain just want it to rain, you can’t say it.The two people here have a guilty conscience, they are both deeply afraid of rain and would rather not rain, but they are the same. Fortunately, the rain stopped falling.Those children's praise and gratitude to God, although they are in their hearts, you can also find them from the smiling faces.If these sincere words of thanks were stored in something, I am afraid I would not be able to find such a big pocket. Amidst the applause from the young children (although there are quite a few adults, this beautiful festival is only for children, and the adults are nothing more than pig livers on the scale.), we can see those few long and narrow The same knife-like wooden boat was thrown back and forth on the water like a throwing shuttle.One stepped forward, and the other backed away; one stopped moving, and the other started to play dragons and flowers in circles again.It was a few sailors in red vests and green vests—red and green flower vests—that moved the boat.They use small paddles to push the boat forward and backward, and their bodies let the boat carry it back and forth. To them, it can be said that they are walking there with their hands. ………… After a day of frenzied play, the children seemed to let the rowers let go of their expectations, and everything was fine again.Those long narrow wooden boats will naturally be dragged ashore by some parties and taken to the Dragon King Temple to rest, so we don't have to worry about it anymore. "Isn't it lonely?" Fortunately, the children who love to ask questions have not raised such a question to embarrass their mother. But I think that even if a clever child asks about this, he can still answer in this way: "It has been playing with you all day, so it should sleep well and go to the Dragon King Temple to rest. It's not like a child who likes to be lively, so it won't be lonely." From this day on, adults and children seem to have gradually forgotten the shuttle that was thrown into the water the day before—it is generally difficult to hear the story of this shuttle being mentioned in gossip.It was not until the May Festival of the following year when the dragon boat rain fell again that someone remembered this forgotten friend bit by bit. Fives I looked at the green vase on my table, a new one, and I treated it very politely, placing it between the inkwell and the small teapot. It's almost early summer.All the flowers are gone.Such an elegant and beautiful bottle is suitable for placing lilacs.Suitable for wisteria.A willow branch or two, or a pinch of grass, as long as it is green or not very old willow branches, are extremely cute.However, all kinds of flowers are thanked, or not thanked, and I have no way to find them. Let the new vase spend a lonely day between the teapot and the inkpot. The vase is still empty, and I should be a little ashamed to use it.This kind of shame is what I have experienced for my small pot that never contains tea, and the ink bottle that never uses it to write something comforting. The new shame made me feel slightly uneasy.I thought to myself, wouldn't it be great to send someone like Ting Wei to an outdated life?Because I was tired, even though I thought about it, I didn't do it. It was still standing between the teapot and the inkwell. The sensible old Tian saw the new green vase and knew what kind of job he had been added to. Without waiting for orders, he went to the edge of the farm and picked a bouquet of February orchids and another unknown grass flower. Insert them into the bottle together, and fill the belly of the bottle with cold water. It has no fragrance, and even the color is disgusting... I also thought of throwing the bottle out of the window, but it was just a thought. See the cold water in the bottle of Er Yuelan and that wildflower.By the time I am tired of not being able to punish what I hate, these wild flowers get their undeserved happiness. The season is approaching early summer, and all the flowers have already faded, or I can't find them if they don't. Looking from the window, the leaves of the cypress trees have turned dark green, preparing to resist the scorching sun in summer, it seems that green is a last resort.Being able to resist is fine.What can I do against this late spring chagrin?I can't say no to a school bell that's so boring that it rings on time, I can't... I can't say no to anything more.I can't refuse anything I hate.At this time, a carpenter or blacksmith was doing some work with an axe or chisel in the distance, and there was a sound of nails. I wanted to reject this sound, so I covered my ears with my hands, so I was unable to raise my hands. Heart is too tired. The green vase is still in front of my eyes, as if Lao Tian knew what I meant, and replaced it with a new purple vine flower with five spikes from outside.The faint fragrance reminds me of the woman from yesterday. Seeing the new green bottle with fresh vine flowers, ah, the dream of March, so faintly done! ... Wanting to write something, I lifted the pen, and put it down weakly. Completed in February 1926