Small village love

The flowing years like water, the shyness and romance of spring turning over, the rich and passionate summer, the thick and quiet autumn will certainly become my current theme, which cannot be rejected! In the final analysis, the prosperity held tightly with both hands will become scenery, diaries, poems and nagging words… Holding the surprise and hesitation all the way, stepping on the persistence and fragrance all the way, slowly fold all the past into the temples infected by wind and frost, and don’t become a graceful word. It can only be said as a calm word, with some twists and turns, some sadness and some relief! A casual smile will wake up the sleeping time. A water flower flies from the distant sky, and comes from my dream with melodious flute. A flower carries the home in my dream! The ancient river, the curling smoke, the hidden village in the shade… This kind of dream often lingers and often comes uninvited. It turns out that among all the scenery, my lovely hometown is the most beautiful and inseparable! The Willow flies into the boat and lies in the Blue Stream of the rhombus. The scenery is full of Yangzi, and the weather is sunny. The Yangtze River in the south of the Yangtze River is so beautiful that I think this poem written by Li Yi is particularly suitable to describe my hometown. Because my small village is just a small boat in the Yangtze River, a sandbar in the water which is made by the impact of sediment, floating leisurely in the middle of the water. The Long Green banks on both sides are full of willows stretching and soft, and willows floating in May, it is the snow in summer, so leisurely, so indifferent. Where on earth is such a boat like a wild crane? Hehe, if you run down the river along the Yangtze River and push open the gate of Tianmen Mountain written by Li Bai, what directly catches your eyes is my hometown, which is the bow of this boat. From the most magnificent gate in history, the heroic and romantic wind of poetry and immortals came, which made the small continent full of infinite vitality, with numerous trees and green cages, and the smoke of the kitchen was faint among them. The fields were rich and the chickens and ducks were flocks, in the setting sun, the Shepherd rode leisurely on the back of the cow, and the cow’s back was still covered with baskets of grass, which was extremely comfortable! However, when I was young, I didn’t dare to ride a cow and play a flute like my little friend, even holding the reins. I always felt very sorry! Every time we take a small ferry to cross the river and go home, the ferry people are all from our hometown. The boats are usually parked at our own home, and we will shout loudly with our voices straight. We don’t shout across the river, instead, they shouted to cross the river, so whenever they sang Pan Changjiang’s cross the river, they would think of the ferry in their hometown. The boat paddled slowly with small paddles, but now it was all diesel engines. Let’s play the double paddle, I’m afraid it is the song of history. Once I got on the boat, it was like getting home, and I was determined in my heart. Standing on the boat, I always like to overlook the gate. When the sun is shining, the two mountains are handsome young people, standing beside the river, tall and green; When the rain is hazy, it is graceful Qingyi, shuangfeng shows two eyebrows bending, Cui Dai is still watching the movie room. Tianmen Mountain, which is close at hand, has never been climbed. When I was a child, I went to xiaozhoutou on purpose, stood on the Golden Beach, looked up from the river closely, and wondered how the great poet made such a famous world, A poem known to all women and children. Now I think Li Bai took a boat more than one thousand or two hundred years ago and went east to Jinling, passing this place, marveling at the mountains and rapids here, and the amazing poems he blurted out were also very excited! The Yangtze river not only gives our hometown rich land, but also gives us a happy childhood. Listening to the old songs sung by the Yangtze River in front of the door everyday, we are all extremely happy, either flowing past or falling with passion. The Riverside is always our natural Playland. In spring, in March and April, the warm river began to rise again. Countless small crabs climbed onto the beach. We carried small buckets, sang and chased all the way, painted on the beach, piled houses and caught crabs, seeing a wave of waves suddenly swept away our graffiti, dispersed in a hubbub, carrying crabs full of small barrels, took them home and poured them into the VAT for fun, No one ever wants to eat it. In summer, I spend all day in the water, catching fish and shrimp, swimming and water fights. I always forget to eat, and often go home with my mouth pouting in the scolding of adults. It was very hot in summer for several years. People in our production team all moved the cold bed to the beach beside the river to spend the night. That was the most pleasant moment. The wind of the river blew and we counted the stars in the sky, while listening to the stories of adults telling demons and ghosts, they fell asleep. Winter is dry season. The beach is larger and wider. The river is gentle and sparkling. The beach is our natural drawing paper. You can paint it casually with a branch, the biggest painting is sometimes as big as a house. After finishing the painting, it is famous in the department: so-and-so painting, there is no need to worry about being swept away by the river tide, and I will see it many days later, our masterpieces are still showing off silently there. When the horn braid turned into the tail of a horse, the stirring heart twitched around with the tail of the horse, and the eyes began to look at the outside world, feeling that it was primitive and boring enough! There are no beautiful floral skirts, no beautiful red leather shoes, no beautiful hairpins and bows, no books to read, and they can’t learn singing and dancing like children in the city. I never envy students with good grades, but I especially envy those who sing and dance well. From primary school to junior high school, the school never gave us music and art lessons. I remember that when I was in junior high school, I secretly learned to sing decadent music from the radio and hummed small songs while doing homework, which aroused great interest among my classmates, so a group of people were dragged into the water by me, and a stream of singing underflowed in the classroom. It can be seen that our spiritual and cultural life at that time was very isolated and lagging behind. The troubled youth includes endless songs and lessons. When the blue ink of the pen dyed my fingers blue and thin, I can be excited with ignorance and dreams, leave without hesitation, fly in the more beautiful and bluer sky without hesitation. When I was young, people were like small streams, eager to flow to the farther and wider ocean; But once I had been away from home for a long time, they were like waves, longing to return to the land in dreams. One autumn, standing on the Santai Pavilion in quarry, I saw the Tianmen Mountain in the distance and the green and luxuriant hometown on the opposite side, and suddenly remembered that I hadn’t set foot on that land for more than ten years, at this time, a large area of reeds in the west of my hometown should be opened lonely. Are the reeds in the wind waiting for me to pick? I don’t know the distance of my hometown after leaving, how stuffy is it? A trace of homesickness came without reason, melancholy without reason, and confusion without reason. Peach and plum have been burning for dozens of years, turning into a glass of wine and sending east wind, a leaf boat, leaving my heart. Xi Murong’s poem goes: The song of hometown is a flute which always rings in the night of the moon. However, the appearance of hometown is a kind of vague sadness as if waving in the fog to leave tonight. Without the moon, there is plenty of boundless drizzle, I listened to the endless singing of the river in the drizzle. I looked at the glittering kerosene lamp in the neon light. I looked through the villages under the fence in high buildings, I was sitting quietly and running along the path of my hometown. I sang a beautiful homesickness song in this young spring night. Lovely Hometown, do you still remember me?

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