——Read Wang Wei's "Weichuan Tianjia"

"Weichuan Tianjia"

Don Wangwei

The slanting sun shines on the ruins, and the cattle and sheep return to the poor alleys.

The wild old man thought of the shepherd boy, leaning on the staff and waiting for the thorn.

The pheasant wheat seedlings are beautiful, and the silkworms sleep and the mulberry leaves are scarce.

Tian Fu hoeed to, and the words of each other followed.

That is, the envy is leisurely, and the groaning is declining.

Poetry, in this tumultuous age, seems to have become a ridiculous topic.

Poetry, in this impetuous society, cannot even be a topic that can be talked about.

Flipping through the notes when I was studying, I found that there were many densely packed and neat poems copied with a fountain pen.

This "Weichuan Tianjia" is one of them, but it is not the whole poem, but the first eight sentences. Guess that the poet's expression in the last two sentences unconsciously exposes himself to the peasants, making this sigh seem to be suspicious of not knowing the crops, so he is abandoned.

The development of modern means of transportation and the advanced means of communication have shortened the distance between people and people. "Seeing the bright moon together should weep, and the hometown heart is the same in five places overnight", many people can no longer experience it. Some say that the nostalgia that poets chanted in the past has also died out in modern society. Is this really the case? I can't answer.

Today, seeing the words in my previous notes, I feel, at least, the poem, still there; Think, too......

I have never made a secret of it, I am a countryman, I am a native. For the homeland where I was born and raised, I have infinite affection. Although there is no prosperity there that many people yearn for; Although it is not rich there; Even the neighbors there still have a lot of bad habits that are looked down upon and ridiculed...... However, all of this, in my opinion as a growing up, is natural, real, and harmless.

After being away from home for a long time, the feeling of homesickness is getting worse. Therefore, in this memory, there is only about the hometown.

I am with my hometown what I am with my parents. When I was a child, I was by my parents' side and often made my parents angry. Every now and then, my mother would say with a little anger:

"When will I be able to start a family, not by my side, but also let my heart be calmer."

Sure enough, one day, because he wanted to follow his own path in life, he quit his parents and left home.

This time, I became a passer-by in my hometown. Every time I come and go, I am in a hurry, and the time I stay is as little as three or five days, and no more than one month.

Because of the separation, my parents have less noise that I made when I was around them, and more concern for their son.

As a result, my parents have forgotten my stubbornness day by day, and the rest of my memories are all the few well-behaved and obedient I had when I was at home.

Over the years, the countryside has changed a lot, and I will feel and have some impressions when I go back. Just because he walks like a passerby, coming in a hurry and going in a hurry. Therefore, those impressions and feelings inadvertently turned into smoke in the mind, and then drifted away.

Regarding my hometown, what remains in my heart and cannot be erased is mostly the scenes from childhood.

The fields of the countryside and the afterglow of the setting sun have their own beauty: although not as brilliant as when the sun rises, the soft colors are deeper than the morning light. The soft light of the setting sun often touches people's hearts with her deep posture and makes people enter a state of selflessness.

At the edge of the field, the tender green grass, in the sunset, also lost its true green, Fang Buddha was a little shy, and faintly dizzy.

The village boy, who was ignorant of the world, gently waved the whip in his hand and drove the cattle and sheep back from a distance. His hands and feet are not pretentious, and they are all true expressions of a childlike heart. His demeanor blended in with the nature, forming a scroll of shepherd boys' late return.

At the entrance of the village, Grandpa didn't know how many times he had already looked. The old man muttered in his heart: This child, it's so late, why hasn't he come back? This time, hearing the crisp sound of the whip and the faint cry of the little lamb and the little calf, the old man was relieved, and the anxiety on his face turned into a comfortable smile.

After a winter's slumber, Wheat's almost yellowed face finally relieved. Coupled with a few timely rains, this green wheat seedling is even more verdant and lovely. The festival is renewed, and soon, it is time for the wheat to bloom again. The faint, almost invisible, pale yellow wheat flowers, like fine powder, attached to the green wheat ears, and the breeze made people worry that the wheat flowers would be scattered and fallen by the wind. Looking at this endless sea of wheat, when the wind blows, there are layers of green waves, and there will be a kind of emotion when a swallow flies low, glides across the water, and gently sweeps it.

When I was a child, I got a silkworm seed from a classmate and put it in a pencil case. When spring comes, when I see the mulberry tree sprouting, I am very excited, because the baby silkworm will soon break its eggs. Many times a day, I would look at the paper full of silkworm seeds.

Finally, one day, I found that a black silkworm baby the size of a sesame seed was born, and I was ecstatic, and every time I saw a classmate or friend, I would tell them. Then, I would ask them with great concern:

"How's yours, are you out?"

If they say "come out", I will join them in admiring their silkworm babies.

If they answer "no", I will say in a comforting and seemingly experienced tone:

"Don't worry! Mine has come out, and yours will come out soon. ”

The next day, a few of his silkworm babies really came out, and everyone would be happy together for a long time.

Silkworm babies are very small when they first come out, and they cannot be grasped by hand. I heard the adults say that this silkworm baby needs to be swept with chicken feathers before it can be put off the silkworm paper, so I looked for chicken feathers everywhere. When some friends are really anxious, they will even secretly grab their mother's beloved old hen, pluck two or three chicken feathers from it, and distribute them to classmates and partners.

When silkworm babies were young, they were kept in pen cases. When the silkworm baby grew up, the pencil case could not be put down, so I begged my mother to borrow her needlework dustpan to make a silkworm bed.

Every day on the way from school, one of the important things is to pick a lot of mulberry leaves.

Sometimes, when I wake up at night, I see that the mulberry leaves are only left with leaf veins, and the mesophyll is all eaten by silkworms. I asked my mother, do you want to change the mulberry leaves again? My mother said that she had already changed it once, and that the silkworms were sleeping now, so I went back to sleep.

I heard my grandmother say that silkworms can't be seen. Therefore, when I raised silkworms, I even gave up onions, garlic, etc. Occasionally, I couldn't control myself, and after eating onions and garlic, I couldn't bear to go to see the silkworms, or asked my mother and sister to help me take a look.

Every evening, before my father had returned from the fields, my mother would say:

"Go to the field, it's almost dinner, why hasn't your father come back yet?"

So I jumped and jumped and ran into the field, and before I could reach the field, I met my father on the way. It turned out that my father was chatting with his uncle from the same village. They lay their hoes on the ground, sat on their hoes, smoked their self-rolled cigarettes, and spoke slowly in the village language.

I called my father home for dinner, so my father and my uncle from the same village stood up, picked up their hoes, and continued their unfinished conversation as they walked home.

I followed my father and my uncle from the same village, and I walked slowly.

Our family's tiger (dog name), before and after a while, followed me left and right.

"Weichuan Tianjia" won the interest of farmers. In the first eight sentences, people who have not experienced or witnessed such a scene probably can't write such sentences; Of course, these eight sentences are true, natural, and beautiful, and people who have not experienced such a reality will probably not be able to experience or experience them.

The poem has been read, and the strong poetry is still lingering in my mind;

The countryside has been written, and the long homesickness is still lingering in my heart.