Chapter 24 crying in the field

The east is about to dawn, and Chen De is first exposed. I sit in the field and talk with nature.At the moment when people are still in their dreams, or their eyes are staring at sleep, I lie on the green grass and ask what beauty is from everything I see. Truth, let everything in front of me tell me what is true beauty. When imagination separates me from the world, and hallucinations remove the material rags that cover my subjective consciousness, I feel that my soul is sublimating, bringing me closer to nature, and explaining the mysteries of nature for me. Let me know the language of all things in nature.

I am in this situation, and a breeze comes slowly from the branches and leaves of the trees, and it sighs like a poor orphan.I asked, "O gentle breeze! Why do you sigh?" It replied, "The scorching sun forced me to flee into the city, but in the city, my pure body was covered with germs, the poisonous poison of human beings." The breath also clings to me. That's why I'm so sad." I looked back at the colorful flowers, only to see that what they picked off was not dewdrops, but tears.I asked, "Beautiful flowers, why are you crying?" One of the flowers raised its pretty face and said, "We cry because people will come here and cut off our pink necks, Bring us into the city. We are free men, and they will sell us like slaves. At night, we will wither, and they will throw us in the rubbish. The cruel hand of mankind will make us go Homeland—field, how can we not weep?"

After a while I heard the brook weeping like a mother who has lost her son, so I asked, "O sweet brook, why do you weep?" It answered, "Because I had to flow into the city, but in the There, people despise me. They drink wine instead of me, and use me to wash their dirt. Soon, my clean body will become muddy water. How can I not cry?" Then, listening carefully, I heard a bird singing a dirge as if mourning, so I asked, "Beautiful birds! Who are you singing dirge for?" A little bird walked away. approached me, stood on a branch and said, "Man will bring a damned instrument and mow us down like a scythe. We are saying goodbye to each other, because no one knows who will survive. We Wherever we go, the god of death will follow us, how can we not sing and change songs?"

As the sun rose from behind the mountains and crowned the trees with golden crowns, I couldn't help thinking: "Why do humans destroy what nature has created?"