Love, silence

When I think of silence, I don't think of my father. People say that my father loves mountains and is tall and steady. He may not be good at words, but he always expresses his sincere love silently. I think, silent love is deep but arbitrary, just like Zhong Tianqi's father, his love is always incomprehensible and suffocating, but when I think about how heavy this love is, people's personality is born and hard to change. Even the worst-tempered and selfish people have their own ways of loving. There is an example around me: my uncle is secretive about his sister's love. He is in poor health and has a bad temper because he runs around for business all day. There is a big generation gap between my sister and him, and their values are completely different: my sister loves idolization, and the spiritual pillar is an idol for her, but my uncle's concern for her is regarded as a weapon to destroy her spirit, which sounds ridiculous. They survived the cold war. The other day, they quarreled again. Sometimes we can't be willful because of our own opinions and ignore a seemingly cold and heavy love.

Love, Misty

I don't know much about hazy love, and neither do I. I think everyone has a vague love in their hearts. Even if the other party always makes him sad and hates him, he always helps him unconsciously and silently when he is in trouble, and can't bear to hurt him. Ou Yaruo's love for Zhong Tianqi is hazy. There may be many people who hate her role. For her ideal career and good material life, giving up love hurt her. But she may also have a lot of helplessness. The troubles of her family life made her feel ashamed. Because she cares too much about these things, she has done all kinds of wrong things irrationally, and it is too late to regret it. However, because of this hazy love, she woke up to face and bear everything.

Love, invisible

Invisible love symbolizes selfless love and transcends life and death. Just like between Vernon Zhong and Xia Zhixing, Xia Zhixing reluctantly gave up the person she cared about most for Vernon Zhong's happiness and career success, knowing that the other party would resent her treachery, but she resolutely chose to give up, just because she loved him too much, so she chose to let go of the other party's hand. What a sincere and touching love! Every time I see Xia zhi xing break up with Zhong Tianqi for love, I have an impulse to cry. Since ancient times, how many lovers can't be together, Cowherd and Weaver Girl can't meet across the Bird Bridge, and Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai can't be together and become butterflies. I have seen a touching love movie Titanic. When the ship hits an iceberg, people will die. A pair of young people who fell in love, a man, died in the sea and saved the woman. Young women live well for this selfless love and keep this love in their hearts forever. At that time, I saw tears in my eyes and everything was silent. ...

The difference between human beings and animals is that they have love with people. Love has various expressions, no matter which one, it deserves our gratitude. Here, I want to express my gratitude to this loving world.

Learn from grandpa

In my memory, grandpa's shadow appears and disappears like a starry sky covered by clouds.

Like a black and slippery loach, whenever I want to capture his information and never see his face clearly, I hide in the hazy dream river and don't know where it is.

In fact, I have long known that unlimited imagination is not as good as limited memory, although the memory about him is so scarce.

Because I work in a different place, my father didn't trust my study and took me with him since I was a child. I'm still studying in the city, and I can only go back to my hometown once in the New Year. Because of this, my contact with my grandfather is very short, but every time I go back to my hometown, I can learn something from the peasant breath that smells like earth.

The year before last was the farthest year I can remember, but that year I remembered my grandfather's smile best.

Hearing the sound of wheels coming from the woodshed, I immediately put on my shoes and ran downstairs. I saw grandpa pushing a bucket car out of the woodshed. I asked him, "Grandpa, where are you going?" He looked at me and said, "Rice milling! Come and help me carry these bags of grain into the car. "

"hmm." I nodded, and together with him, I carried two bags full of grain to the most common fighting car in the countryside.

"Milling rice" is really a new word for me, so I decided to go with my grandfather.

Walking past the stone bridge, the river at the bottom of the bridge roared fiercely, and the noise drowned out the sound of the bucket car bumping on the uneven road.

"Grandpa, wasn't this bridge built only once last year?"

"Well, when you are repairing the bridge, you can't cross the river from here. You can only cross the river by boat, which is quite troublesome. However, the people who built the bridge did a good job, but there were many people and cars every day, and now the stone bridges are deformed. Alas ... "Grandpa said with a sigh.

I listened to grandpa's words, looked up and saw his gray hair, looked at his bow figure, and felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

"Grandpa, I'll do it."

"You are too young to push?"

I immediately got under his arm between my grandfather and the bucket truck, holding the handlebar in my hand, and smiled and said to my surprised grandfather behind me, "Just let me come and have a rest."

……

Later, we finally came to the rice mill. I was just about to stop to have a rest when I heard grandpa's happy cry from behind me: "Brother Zheng, rice milling, hahaha ..."

I looked back in surprise, and finally I was lucky enough to see grandpa's smile, which was so bright that my eyes narrowed. Smiling, holding a straw hat in his right hand, flapping again and again, the sun danced happily on his black and white hair, white cloth coat, black pants and brown skin. This is the most beautiful image of grandpa in my heart. I thought it was my grandpa's pleasure to watch me grow up. Maybe there are other reasons why an old man guarding an old house can laugh.

Grandpa is often the only one in the old house. After my parents and I went to town, I left him with my sister. At first, my grandfather was willing to amuse the children, but gradually, my sister grew up and went to boarding school. He not only paid her tuition, but also had to endure loneliness alone. Later, things happened.

That is, last year, on the morning of the Spring Festival, the news of grandma's death spread. My grandmother didn't leave for no reason. One month before her death, she caught a cold and stayed in the hospital for nearly two weeks. I also visited her in the hospital with other family members.

Grandpa is the one who takes care of my grandmother the most. Because my grandmother is in hospital, she seldom goes home. When I went to the ward, he was busy wiping the old man's face and giving medicine. Rarely talk to us.

Later, for some reason, the old man simply moved back home for a week. Then, on the morning of the Spring Festival, the old man lay in bed, closing his eyes peacefully, as if he would never wake up.

Grandma's funeral diluted the excitement of the Spring Festival. The lion dance team patrolling the streets for the New Year didn't come to my house. The red firecrackers on the wall didn't light. Grandpa took them off with scissors himself. The old house is like shaking in a red and white world. Grandpa doesn't know whether to tear off the keeper posted by Lian Gang and hang up the white cloth list. We must arrange the ceremony before the funeral in the old tile house.

The whole family knelt in front of grandma's memorial tablet, the children who were not sensible sat and played, some uncles and aunts burst into tears, and only grandpa was silent. Surprisingly, his eyes are so deep. Is it bottomless sadness or another impulse?

Facing the senior high school entrance examination this year, I was afraid I couldn't spare time in my busy study, so I told my grandfather about it on the phone and said I couldn't accompany him for the New Year. At the other end of the phone, it was the silence of the old man, during which I couldn't figure out the mood of the old man. Finally, he said, "study hard."

This sentence deeply shocked me: can you learn the nobility of the elderly in the sea of books? Struggle in poverty, bear in sadness and bear in loneliness. No one has ever taught me such an important truth except my dear grandpa! I recall the things I got along with my grandfather: harvesting in the fields, watering vegetables, driving ducks, eating bananas he planted, hanging clothes on the roof to dry radishes, and he would buy me a bottle of coke on holidays ... In the past three years, I learned a lot from my grandfather. He is the pine and cypress in my life, evergreen.

So, I put away the network cable in the desperate search, no longer fantasized, and returned to my heart. Although I can't say it is vast, my memory clearly shows me that my grandfather is no stranger.

My grandfather is over 60 years old, tall, with a pair of eyes embedded in his wrinkled face. The proudest thing is that he has the quality of "never too old to learn". That day, as soon as I walked into my door, I was pushed and pulled to the study by my grandfather. Baoshu pointed to an English word for advice: "Good granddaughter, how to pronounce this word?" I'm at a loss. How could grandpa ask me for English advice? It is true that the sun rises in the west. I won't know until I ask. It turns out that there have been several foreign guests recently. Grandpa learns English to prevent us China people from playing dumb in front of foreigners. I suddenly realized. Mom asked grandma, "Dad, what's the matter? Learn English. " When grandma heard this, she was so angry that she couldn't fight. She quickly spit it out: "Today, she said she would go out to buy things, and then she bought things!" I actually bought an English book. Do you find it irritating? As soon as the voice fell, grandpa rushed in and shouted, "It's over, it's over." I wonder, grandpa, what's the hurry? I saw grandpa turn on the TV and tune it to 17. Fluent and sweet English was introduced to my ears. It turns out that grandpa still watches the English program "Into America" on time every day. Grandpa is like this. He is "never too old to learn" and is an example for me to learn.

A composition I hate most.

This winter, my father told me, and my mother also told me that two old acquaintances came to our home. I wonder who "they" will be. I am a hospitable little guy, but I searched the whole house and found no trace of "them". Have they left? I have never seen what "they" look like, which makes me very disappointed.

On Saturday night, my parents went to bed. I finished my homework, washed and went to bed.

The room was quiet and dark, and I was always timid. I walked gently to the bathroom. Suddenly, a buzzing sound came into my ear. Are there any bad guys? Scared me, I quickly jumped up and my voice stopped. Did I hear you wrong? Is it my fantasy? God, did my homework make me stupid? But my intuition tells me that I must have heard a voice. Thinking of this, my heart beat twice as fast as usual! I was just thinking, in the silent room, there was a "creaking" sound again! "Call Dad!" A voice said to me. But curiosity overcame me as timid as a mouse. So, I looked everywhere for the source of sound. I finally heard it clearly. The sound came from the footbath in the bathroom.

I leaned my head against the door left unlocked in the bathroom and couldn't see anything clearly. ......

school gate

Approaching the school gate, you can smell a fragrance, which turns out to be beautiful flowers at the school gate: some are purple orchids, some are rhododendrons, and some are seven-star flowers. These flowers have many colors: some are red, some are yellow, and some are purple, colorful and very beautiful.

So many flowers, look at this one, it's really beautiful; Look at that. Beautiful, too. If these flowers in front of us are regarded as a large-scale living painting, the artist's skill is really remarkable. These flowers are surrounded by a tall and stout iron tree, just as children are surrounded by teachers and listen carefully.

Behind the flowers are two scarlet pillars. There is a sign hanging on the pillar on the left, which reads: "Zhaoqing First-class School". At the top of this column, there is a flying eagle-the school emblem of our school. On the pillar on the right, there are several dazzling Chinese characters engraved with "Guan Wei Central Primary School", which are shining in the bright sunshine, just like twinkling stars in the sky.

The gate of our school is really beautiful! I stop to watch every day after school or school, and sometimes I am so absorbed in it that I forget to go home! I like the gate of our school.

Rivers in poetry

"When I was seven years old, I looked in the mirror." This is a sentence written by a little girl in a neighboring village when I was just learning poetry. Whether it is the well water in front of the house or the wild water in the moon pool behind the mountain, in short, the feeling of "first sight in the water" is beautiful. Twenty years later, when I read Heraclitus's sentence "You can't step into the same river twice", I was shocked by the vicissitudes and changes of the world. I think of the girl who has already become a woman. She may not remember the water when she was seven. But what I want to say is that in my heart, Jialing River will always be the same river in my poems.

The first time I heard about Jialing River, the junior high school teacher told us from the textbook. The first time I went to Jialing River, when my uncle and I took apricots to my aunt's house in the county seat, we crossed the river by Wu Peng. But at that time, I was still very young. I wonder what the river in front of me will inspire my life. I don't know what Xue Jing in my life will have to do with her. I remember when I was in high school, one Saturday, I walked directly from school to menstruation's house in the city. I was almost at Nanjinguan, only to find that I didn't have any money in my pocket. How can I cross the river? My heart began to pound. At this moment, I suddenly found a primary school classmate walking in front of me. I caught up with him and answered him. When I arrived at the ferry, I deliberately walked behind him and said to him, "Hey, I'll buy you a ticket!" " Hearing this, the classmate replied, "Look at what you said, I'll buy it together!" " "That night, I walked alone by the Jialing River. It was the first time that I looked at the river in front of me with the eyes of strangers. What I saw in the water was by no means her budding face seen by a seven-year-old girl in a neighboring village. What I see is a vision for the future! The dream of a country boy who had nothing in poor times! I swear in my heart: from now on, I must cross the river and be an upright person!

When I was in a normal school, I was obsessed with literature, especially poetry, for some reason. At that time, it happened to be the end of the era of Guo Moruo, Ai Qing and collectors. Then, I was surrounded by lilacs and osmanthus flowers of Xu and Dai Wangshu. In the blink of an eye, I was fascinated by the haze of the North Island, Shu Ting, Ouyang He Jiang and Yang Lian. Like a river, it rushes over the waves and turns over them. But no matter what changes have taken place, my love for Tang poetry and Song poetry is always growing day by day. When I was making cultural and educational sentences, I came across a set of ancient Tang poems. From those beautiful poems, I read the sentences related to Jialing River intentionally or unintentionally, and listened to the poems written by poets of past dynasties describing the mother river in the depths of history: "Jialing River flows eastward, and Langzhou is remembered in the post. If you enter the sea in Langzhong, Langzhou should be higher. " This is Li Shangyin's expectation for Five Cities and Twelve Floors. "The river color of Bajiang River is thick and soft. The fairy brushed the clothes, and the wind shuttle came to weave late. " From Ba Jiang in the Northern Song Dynasty and Zhou Dynasty, I felt the ancient meaning of Langzhong in the mythical era, as if I had returned to ancient Hua Xushi and saw Fuxi brothers and sisters with rulers and compasses in their hands. In the poem "Song of Waves" written by the poet Du Fu, I can always appreciate the picture of "Ba Tong rowing, water chicken flying with fish" ... countless nights, I put my soul in the center of those strange Chinese characters, dreaming and drifting endlessly in the middle of the river of poetry.

The 1980s was the loneliest time of our generation. I buried my life in China's rhetoric, like pebbles in the depths of a river, hanging their heads in the middle of a dark and deep riverbed. More often, I walk alone on the beach dyed red by the sunset. The reed in front of us doesn't seem to be a real reed, and the river under our feet is not a smart river. I shrink into a gray dead sand. That is, during that time, I began the most tenacious and longest struggle in my adolescence: "Jinping Mountain, a treasure trove of geomantic omen in my life/a once wild goose/why can't I take away the tears in my eyes//I once sat on an uninhabited mountain/recited the quatrains of the Tang Dynasty alone ..." ("Jinping") Life continued uneasily in an ancient poem. In order to suppress this anxiety, we all send out/shout like stones: Come on/love! The water under the bridge is ringing ... "("Sleeping Children "), in the deep bay of the Great Buddha Temple, we leaned against our bodies and sang songs for the winter all night, while the Jialing River water flowed silently not far away and flowed to the place where it had to go.

The pause killed the river. A person's life is like a river, always on the road and can't stop. Philosopher Heraclitus said, "We stepped into the same river, but we didn't ... You can't step into the same river twice", which discussed the ever-changing river and human self-change in the highest sense. From the early 1990s, in order to change my life and leave my hometown, I began to travel between Chengdu and Langzhong. Strangely, when I arrived in Chengdu, the provincial capital, I felt empty all day instead of leaving my hometown Langzhong. No matter how noisy the occasion is and how luxurious the life is, I can't shake my soul. I know that I am far away from poetry and the river in poetry, and my passion and inspiration are as hot as burning. People's souls often need moisture, water from their hometown and hometown to nourish them, and poetry.

200 1 In late autumn, Ye Zhou, a Gansu poet, came to Chengdu, and a group of so-called poets got drunk in the "Diaojiaolou in East Sichuan". That night, I called it the night of my poem's return, because that night, "many inexplicable words began to float in my mind/naturally, delicately and beautifully formed a wonderful puzzle in the depths of my soul/I saw butterflies flying many years ago." It is precisely because of the return of this poem that I resolutely decided to return to my native land as soon as possible.

In 2002, my family and I returned to Langzhong. As soon as I passed Nanchong, I smelled the familiar landscape of my hometown, and my chest began to surge with poetry: "The last rays of intoxicating coolness in summer came from the river wind/my heart slowly woke up like a paper lizard/set out from my body/climbed an unknown highland gently ..." After I came back, I went to the old land village to see my dead mother-in-law grandfather and held a blank new soil for their grave; When I came back, I began to write a 50,000-word paper on "The Ancestor Fuxi and Langzhong" to find Ozawa, who was pregnant in Hua Xu; After coming back, I climbed Jinping and went to Du Fu Temple to borrow the desolate and warm poetic soul. When I came back, let my heart rise and fall with the sun and moon of Jialing River ... I returned to a valuable existence:

Tonight, on the banks of Jialing River, moonlight and flowing water celebrate together.

The wind in the forest, pulling my sleeve, wants to join.

The rock chrysanthemums on the shore cast a deep yellow shadow in the moonlight.

Such as running water: "thoughts don't stay!" "

Who turned himself into a stone on the shore of the Millennium?

Who abandoned the crown, like Heraclitus in seclusion?

Hiding in the ancient forest, fermenting your own spiritual flesh.

Rooting wisdom in the vast black soil. At this time,

A owl is crying on the other side of the river, and the wind is cold.

Take me away like a bosom friend.

-"Love Poems of Jialing River"

"There is god. I found myself. " When Heraclitus warmed himself by the fire, he discovered his true nature. Under the swaying tiles of the ancient city, I found my true self in the depths of Yushui (the water of Jialing River in Langzhong section, called Yushui in ancient times). When I die, I can feel the meaning of my life.

I am in my father's eyes.

Father in my eyes

Speaking of father, I always feel that there is nothing to say. In my eyes, my father is ordinary, as ordinary as a drop of water in a stream and as ordinary as a tree in a forest. He hit me, scolded me and treated me well. However, when I think about it, I have no impression at all, so I can't talk about it. Now, I have my own children and become a father, and my feelings for my father are different. Perhaps, as my father said, I don't know how expensive rice is if I'm not in charge, and I don't know the kindness of my parents if I don't raise children.

In fact, I didn't care much about my father for a long time. Because in my impression, my father will always be a strong man and will never bow down in the face of difficulties. Until my father finished washing his hair, I suddenly found that his hair was half white. I couldn't help saying to my father, "Dad, your hair is so white!" " ".Father zheng, didn't speak, just looked at me, and then picked up a comb to comb my hair silently. I regret saying this, but I have nothing to comfort my father. Time makes people old, nothing can stop the pace of time, and my father will get old. Maybe this is life. It's just that we often don't want to accept this reality, and so do my father and I.

Looking at my father, the scene of my father sending me to the train reappeared in my mind.

It was the first time that I left my hometown to study abroad. I told my father that I didn't have to, but my father insisted on taking me to the station. Many times, parting is always sad. The ancients said, "Those who feel dejected and driven out of their wits are all right." . It happened that it was raining in Mao Mao again that day, and it was gray. The train left in the drizzle, and my mother kept telling me to wipe my tears. My father, who has been silently helping me with my luggage, moved his lips as if he wanted to say something to me. But he didn't say anything in the end, just waved. The train is getting faster and faster. I looked at his hunched back in the rain from the window, and a trace of bitterness hit my heart, and tears could not help but flow down. In middle school, the teacher talked about Zhu Ziqing's back. At that time, I didn't understand the sadness of parting. Now I understand. My father's hunched back in the rain will always be imprinted in my memory.

My father has always been very strict with me, probably because I am the eldest son! My father always said to me, "You should set an example for your brother." I don't think so, but I keep complaining that he is too strict with me. At that time, I dreamed of leaving home every day and traveling freely around the world. Now, when I have to leave home to make a living, I find how good my father is to me. Because of his strict requirements, my studies, work and marriage are all smooth sailing. When everything goes well, I will often think of my father and miss him more. Many times, what we once had was not really cherished; You don't know its value until you lose it. Now that I am a father, I look at the sleeping children and always think about how to educate them in the future. What a different life my children will live with me! Whenever I think like this, I think of my father. Maybe when I was very young, he looked at me in his sleep and thought the same thing.

Father is old, but he doesn't want us to accompany him. He often said, "When the father helped his son, both of them laughed, and when the son helped his father, both of them cried." Maybe my father didn't want to see tears, maybe the hardships of life made him have no tears. I won't "help" my father, although he is old and slow-witted. I just hope that the laughter between father and son will last forever. The vast sea of people, looking back blankly, always find that too much has been lost and too little has been owned. Those countless good times always disappear before we know it. But there is always such a picture in my dream: "In the evening, I helped my father to go for a walk by the river, looking up at the quiet starry sky, stepping on the soft soil, breathing the fragrance of grass, watching the passing river, precipitating the noise in my heart, leaving a quiet and true feeling, accompanying my faltering father."

My father is ordinary and great!

Wall culture

I'm leaving. Put the wall in its place. Are there any beautiful memories on that wall? ...

Childhood graffiti

When I was a child, the bedroom wall was my close friend. When there is no playmate, it is my playmate: I doodle on it and draw a cute little white rabbit with my crayons, with a big smiling face; And the green sun, jumping sunflowers.

When no one laughs with me, it paints its own world with colorful pigments and laughs happily with me.

Is there my childhood on the wall? I still remember when I was a child, I stood in front of graffiti and insisted that my father should not draw. At that time, I didn't want my childhood to be erased, did I?

Juvenile prose

Older, entered the school. In the days when I sat by the wall, the wall naturally became my faithful partner.

At that time, I have been able to master words to express my feelings, so I like to write some essays.

When I am lonely, confused and rejected by my classmates, I will stick it on my body and record my melancholy in words. Those pencils are usually hidden in the corner. They accompanied a teenager through the ups and downs on the road of growth, like a plum blossom on the calm water. When they get close to a smell, their fragrance will float out.

It is said that elves love to listen to people's worries, but the wall for listening to teenagers' worries is an elf with vertical ears?

Young, alienated,

When I was older, I began to be busy with my studies. Walls still appear in my life every day, but I seldom have time with them. Occasionally stop, and my eyes are locked by the honor list posted above. I have no time to doodle or share my thoughts with them.

I wonder if this wall will weather over time.

I don't know if I will forget the culture engraved on the wall by years, the culture deposited on the wall by years, and the culture closely related to my lush years. ...