Facing west, warmth of spring
"Book of Songs," the saying goes: "July the opposition, in August in the premises, in September in the households, in October crickets, into my bed." Meteors in July, I am in the West, was drowned in the wild.
The west, a vast and desolate land, one filled with history, full of mystery and fantasy land. July 13 started to pack up your things, a long journey. August 7, frequently looking back, the foot Return Journey. Traveled the western provinces, Gansu, Qinghai, Shaanxi, Xinjiang, lack of independence, unfortunately, Shen Yi. The beautiful scenery, so I have a beautiful soul. The vast scenery, so I have a vast sense of caring. We are facing the west, feeling the warmth of spring desire.
South of Gan, in the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau and the Loess Plateau hillside bordering the grassland, indulge in running, through the eyes of the Tibetans who see a strong contrast to the green and yellow. Gaze of their pupil of the eye, like the rise of a long look on the prairie sky, clear, transparent, pure clean. Xiahe of water, small stream long, devout believers in the Labrang Monastery, prayer, ancient and solemn temples, passing the Millennium eternal Buddha. Plot stone with big, Weiwei Song Ran, Dayu flood control is the stone left behind mountains, and stone ocean; Yellow River River, river home town, Imjin Furuwatari, Zai Budong many vicissitudes of history, but where Po has a little curved; eat fat sheep in white-cut and live honest Bonan farmers, who harvest the wheat in the golden years, but ruddy cheeks, dense, the years have been filled with grief. Early morning, into the alleys, in the jingling sound of hard-working blacksmith, waving hammer, sparks scattered, the knockout to the sharp waist knife, beating out the hope of the new year; in dry sandbank, the to listen to shepherd youth, singing and moving flowers, along with the heart quiver, swaying.
"I do" (July 18, as in the river went home town, the car)
I am willing /
Be the Mountain Meadow Lane Shepherd /
I am willing /
Are those who Catcher in the Rye /
I am willing /
Become walls inside houses in the families /
Hill, is the green; grass is green; shepherd, always lonely /
Wheat, golden; fields, ladder ladder-like; watch people, waiting for the sunset and the harvest /
Mud is brown; people, honest; others, caring and warm /
There is a dim light /
Lighting the dark road /
You can go home /
Green Sea, messy, noisy, without losing a solemn shrine of Tibetan Buddhism, Tar, flashing a gold-the legend of a feeling of bright and clear mind, picked up under a bodhi tree leaf, it brought about a permanent auspicious. Xining's lively night market in the Dingfei snacks, and night reunion, but also with the night farewell. Looking back at step one and across the Riyue, Japan Pavilion and the Moon distant in the sea, the West go daotanghe, is the parting tears flowing, Princess Wen Cheng into a stone statue of the millennium, forever yearning Oh, the Tang Dynasty. Wander in the beautiful Qinghai Lake, golden rape, in full bloom, in this summer, with the blue water waves, connected to the horizon of snow clock, so that this piece of beautiful land flying. I am willing to do one of the Huang River in Qinghai lake fish.
"If" (July 21, to make the vehicle get married the source counties, trip)
If I were a tear /
Better to drop the lake in the Qinghai Lake /
Does not muster a trace of ripple /
Not thrown up a trace of sadness /
Quietly, the melting crashed into the bottom of the lake /
If I were a fish swimming /
Better to cruise the lake in Qinghai /
Not Dangqi wave of spray /
Huang River fish are not startled that the end /
Gently, stop leaning, listen to the voice of lake /
Off the back Gan, Qing Gan across the border through the Black River Reservoir, Chase Forest Park, a rest in the Daban Mountain Tunnel, near view of the snow on the Qilian Mountains, rolling, such as silver-like white, blinking in the dazzling blue sky. Recall Wang Changling's "snow-capped mountains in Qinghai long dark cloud, isolate them Looking yumenguan. Huangsha battle-wear Metal Jacket is not broken do not also end Loulan." Manchurian hills, leisurely pacing black yak, it might see the mountains, the old man, to this mountain, is its eternal home. Yamashita, one just before the bees were killed in the window, knowingly sell filled the flying of the rape of the souls.
"The snow on the Qilian Mountains" (August 9, as in the memories, Jinan Park)
This winter /
There is no snow in the South, and, as usual /
Not as good as the Qilian mountains to climb, look at the snow /
Oh shiny Kamiyama /
Solidified with thousands of years冰清玉洁/
Like a woman, the eternal watch /
Wang Chuan thousands of weathered /
Occasionally /
Dripping a few drops of tears of sorrow /
Will be turned into Yigurouchang /
Nurtured nestle her Quartet /
Still /
To the everlasting blink /
Eye-catching /
Xueyuguangmang /
Gan among the Lu-yu mati temple, parking lean horse, wind and frost spalling of the sand to remove the statue of Buddha of the make-up, history unattended in a remote wilderness. Riding horses, in the Qilian Shan mountain range, listening to gurgling of the stream, watching red sandstone, flying to vent waterfalls, Tisheng blowing and distant towering peaks, hidden stairs, quiet in the thick mountain forests, it is better to do a return to the plateau of the Wrangler, although there is no Qiangdi sound, but still Liulianwangfan.
Beyond the Great South is good, planning neat, clean Zhangye, in fading light to meet the belated travelers, Buddha lying in the temple, with the ancient scriptures, worship, not just kind of feeling. ? Marco Polo recorded the year under the pagoda, is see it again unscarred, the group dove nestling in the sunshine, flight.
"To Marco Polo ?" (August 9, as in the memories, Jinan Park)
Exotic for you /
Forget the mother passed away the trauma /
Dreaming a thousand times but never forget the ancient Korean /
The first long-term journey /
You want to pursue their father's legacy light /
You want traveled the world /
Is a step by step into the East /
Crossed the 10 million in the desert, Gobi, Xuefeng /
After a 10 million times thirst and despair /
You finally touch the silk in golden /
So the immediate /
Shop now has a declining empire, the glory /
Beyond the Great Wall to the West Lake from the south /
Happiness is you can have life-long pursuit of Meng Hun /
Left /
A charmed /
Millennium trek ah /
Change does not go back to your tears /
Jiayuguan ago, the Gobi Desert, the Wei-Jin tomb pile uplift 1000, when the strength of character of the tomb murals Imayasu in, one group of civil freedom of life, taste, since ancient times but now the picture of calm sleep, and the millennium did not have to change. Missed the sunset, night on the cantilever the Great Wall, a steep rocky mountain, the trek could not withstand the rush of walking, from the South to the North, are you capable of reaching the blocking of the year the battlefield? Watch, not just barbarians, but also for his homeland. Jiayuguan's towers, rain swirling, fluttering Sasa, thick walls, the flames of peace, and hold expectations for many years.
"Look Great Wall" (August 9, as in the memories, Jinan Park)
Old Great Wall, in the frontier /
Castle Peak Oi, Gobi Desert /
Easy to do when you see it difficult /
Do not you see Wall length, is the hometown of the Great Wall on either side /
Do not you see the wall walls, brick wall behind the defensive home /
Closed, the dust /
To say the wall length, but longer Nostalgia Road /
Caesar endless tears away from the people, a chain fixed atrial /
Also look at the setting sun, sad heartbroken /
Guo Yumen by Anxi to Dunhuang, yellow sand bottomless, Gobi thousands of miles, it is only a dream a mirage, perhaps, that little bit drenched terrace, can be embellished a little regret. Desert loneliness, dry tributaries, phone-straight on, or Changfeng's Ji Xuan, submerged, and can not see the sunset of the rounded, with the poet's bold, we have, it is so hard to move forward, ever forward interest rates towards Dream of Dunhuang.
To Dunhuang, to Dunhuang, Dunhuang rest so that in the dream, so looking forward to even more lengthy. To Jadin, sigh magical landscapes, the darkness of the devil, was noon of the sun is high, unexpected, they were unable ferocious, only reverie. Is not the arm waving, whistling is not the howling is a small sand, hysteric wind, and removed the thick soil, hundreds of millions of years of cleansing, leaving the hero in this lonely land run. Prostrate to listen Oh, is the Silk Road of the Camel, has been dangling, from that distant place go there even more distant place. Why blame Qiangdi willow, spring is not degree yumenguan. A wall, a pile of loess, residual remains, exposed reed, describing the year strong, around a week, not seen glimpse of spring, hear Qiang Di, the heat of the day, a one way through, leaving only the years in the flows. Jun also advised to make a cup of wine, and west, Yang Guan people for no reason. The way of the willow, flood, vineyards in the scenery, Xi Jin desolation of the Gobi, Yang before the Chinese, the enemy was waiting, and off a Baqiao of willow, one end of wine grapes Magic Cup, Corporate Banking, this is no longer going ahead hometown. We are just far from the overlooks, imitation of the tanks, new walls, hooks can not afford to Zuiwo the battlefield.
Dream of Dunhuang, Dunhuang Dream. 4:00, meandering of the Tuodui set out to Mingsha on the thought and mounted the desert summit, you can see more distant, but more distant, just deserts, man is only one small one in the desert dust . However, Populus euphratica in the desert, though withered, but still stubborn, the stretch blue. And the Gobi camel thorn inside the same, despite the raging sandstorm, but also firmly grasp the ground, unyielding. Sit-in the central desert, looking forward to a brilliant sunrise, when the sun light flowering everywhere, multicolored gravel, even more delicate and boundless, making a colorful dream, accompanied by ship of the desert, along with gently undulating. The Crescent Moon magic, like the corner to hang the moon for many years, persistence brewing, like a gentle affectionate wives, and the desert lover quietly to fall back on, nourishing his hot chest. Mogao Grottoes, came to its side, as if still in a slumber, Didi De, quietly, the shortage of bald bald, and with the same hills elsewhere. Just throws up a terra-movement as a brilliant golden light, is shining everywhere. The pilgrimage of millions of people thousands of years, 10 million times a devout painted carved thousands of years, and finally cast in today's Mogao Grottoes. Layer of history, tired, from a monk named Yue bottles came here, he turned around the 1600 years have passed. Remember, Yu in the "Cultural Journey" in that it is a party, an inspiration. It is a carnival, a release. It is a ritual, a religion beyond religion. The face of the Buddhas, I have no words. I just want to turn into flying on a ray of ribbons, with the wind blowing.
"Dreaming of Dunhuang" (August 17, as in the memories, Jinan Park)
Is just a dream, but made for a thousand years /
Woke up, it was desolate a /
A monk led the tinkle craftsman Fu Zao, in the depths of the desert slopes /
Millennium ringing /
To pass from one place to another place /
After all, from a vision into a shrine /
Simply because they embrace the faith /
Is just a dream, wake up /
Asleep for a thousand years, but only for a Taoist priest /
Open the gateway to the world, but also lost the world /
A century ago, the sins of /
Forced to shoulder a hundred years of humiliation /
From East to West and from the West to the East /
Living is that they are longing for freedom /
Is just a dream, I came /
Gently, do not wake you /
Is just a dream only /
Postscript: multi-days, has been immersed in the memories of the west among the very long journey, memories and even longer, so I can not completely, and the real expression of the west, like the vast western lands, I can not touch each carefully inch. For the West, I am willing to drown himself, but more likely, facing west, warmth of spring. That's it.
Bid farewell to the west, like a good-bye to yesterday's self.
Life requires a lot of road, many times Sheung give me a more perfect life.
So, I threw the Sheung hungry again.
(Note: The Travels of Shaanxi has been part of the record in the "go to Yanan to Yan'an," a text, others such as "Mountain chapter" to be re-recorded. Here, limited to the time and energy to the western provinces are no longer together as a whole narrative it.)
Author: zhulianbihe
