With only 28 words, you can describe autumn so deeply and clearly and write so shallowly.
Listen, muddy-leisure. Dead vines, old trees, faint crows, small bridges, flowing water, people, ancient roads, westerly winds, thin horses and people walking, which one is not an ordinary season and an ordinary sight? Even any farmer or woodcutter on the road can recognize and explain things clearly. How can you see Ma Zhiyuan in his hands? After such a combination and arrangement, he will have an epiphany, earn a way out of the wall and become a dragon? At the beginning of the poem, "A dead vine is a faint cry", I began to write from a nearby place. On the branch of an old tree with dead vines, I counted Western jackdaw in the west, and it burst into tears. If you are far away from people, the end of the world is long, it is dusk, and the rural customs are still unknown, how can you ban it? The urging of this old tree in western Western jackdaw makes people feel scared and cold? The long journey home has affected the flood of homesickness. How can people who leave with heavy steps come back?
Vines, trees and crows are common landscapes in rural areas, but once they are combined with "withered", "old" and "faint", a bleak and cold atmosphere immediately spreads between the lines. Like a dark cloud approaching, it gradually captured people's hearts.
The wind, blowing from thousands of miles away, can I dream of crossing the mountain gate? .
The man led a thin horse across the bridge. The stream was clear, and he saw his face, with wrinkles like mountains and gray temples. Old, a word that has never stopped in my heart, suddenly and abruptly appeared in front of me, so sharp that people can't escape!
The hero in my mind thinks he is different, and he bears Fu Lushou in his life, which is particularly heavy than others. However, all the thank-you gentlemen have been burned to ashes by time, and I have to realize that maybe I am just an ordinary person. Then, think of those dim lights like beans, warm soup, mother's warm hands, and that exhortation; The wife has clear eyes and a slim figure. I miss them like snow, and I want to know how they are at home.
The warm life they lived on once felt so insignificant. Never like now, I have endless yearning and longing for a leisurely and quiet pastoral life. Stumbling on the ancient road, watching the shadow of the sun in the distance. Sunset knows to go home, so what about people?
Why do you always have to wait until you lose it before you find something unusual? Young man, how can you die peacefully without going out to experience something? The greed, or pursuit, of the human heart is like an open sea, which cannot be satisfied.
The ancient road is westerly and thin. I used to be in love, but now I know that I am homesick. The longer you experience it, the more you think about it. Neither man nor horse can bear the mountain of homesickness.
The sun went down. The haggard that ruined my life, just a few dusk?
Ma Zhiyuan's poem, in just 28 words, does not have an "autumn", but describes the bleak and desolate scene in late autumn, without a "thought", but vividly describes the wanderer's heavy homesickness and anxiety. As the saying goes, "You can be romantic without writing a word" has always been regarded as a masterpiece of describing nature, and it can be called "the ancestor of Qiu Si" and "the charm of the Central Plains".
Ma Zhiyuan is a dead vine, Ma Zhiyuan is an old tree, and Ma Zhiyuan is a faint crow; The background is a small bridge with flowing water. Of course, Ma Zhiyuan is also an ancient road, Ma Zhiyuan is also a west wind, and Ma Zhiyuan is also a thin horse. ...