On the mountain, the maple leaves are red.
At the foot of the mountain, a dormant heart crossed the Xiangjiang River.
Looking at the mountain without being able to climb is not a pity, but a red leaf blooms in the colorful fallen flowers.
——Inscription
On Yuelu Avenue , the afterglow of the sunset dyed autumn red, rendering a fairyland of Linjiang Loft.
I haven't seen such a gorgeous dusk for a long time, like a special beauty, making the world in front of me feel like a dream. Star City has tall buildings standing on both sides of the Xiang River. Through the silhouettes of the city pavilions, the iconic signal tower on the Yuelu Mountain can be vaguely seen.
is Yuelu Mountain in front of it? The companion who was traveling with me was a little uncertain and asked the volunteers who were directing traffic on the zebra crossing.
Yes, but it would be a bit far if you walk through it.
There is no need to walk over, but Yuelu Mountain has always left a unique mark in my heart. If it weren't for the epidemic, going on a walk in the mountains this season would be the most suitable one. Now I have to look at it from a distance, as if I was regretful that an old friend could not embrace each other.
Lushan Night Talk, I remember it was a radio program I often listened to when I was studying in Changsha many years ago. On the sleepless weekend at midnight, the gentle voice of the radio anchor tells the story of youth. Youth has no dreams, and memory has traces. I came to Changsha again almost twenty years later. Looking through the car window, I looked at the familiar Binjiang Avenue, but I couldn't remember many faces with stories.
Walking alone in my memory, a cold and lonely feeling attacked me in an instant. When I was in college, I liked to run to Hexi, climb Lushan, visit bookstores, and walk on the Yangtze River Avenue for unknown reasons. The mark of those times is lost in the Xiang River, which flows deep in the still water. Some people say that loneliness in adolescence is not real loneliness, it is just loneliness in growth. When you sit alone in a bookstore to flip through books, the pages of the book sound at the fingertips is loneliness, the tip of the pen slides on the paper is loneliness, and the wind sways the leaves outside the window is loneliness... You can clearly hear these, proving that loneliness has really come to this world at that moment. Apart from this, the rest is probably overwhelming loneliness.
Lonely is such a distant word. In the long scale of 15,000 days, the years have come lonely. At the foot of Lushan Mountain after dusk, the eyes were dazzling and blurred. Someone around me reminded that there would be a light show by the river at night. This did not attract my interest, but kept staring at the direction of the mountain.
There are my footprints in the mountain, extending from the foot of the mountain to the top of the mountain, on the stone steps that have experienced vicissitudes, next to the ancient tomb where the hero is sleeping, and on the mountain trail of the boy of Nacha, the footprints have been left twenty years ago. The breeze blows through my youth; the heavy snow covers my impetuous years. It was swaying, and the years of college were really wasted.
Night fell, and on the road to watching the sand, I and several students went back to the Academy together after nucleic acid test. In October this year, due to a literary opportunity, young and middle-aged writers came to Changsha from all over the province to study. During the epidemic, the college was very strict in management. In addition to routine nucleic acid testing within 48 hours, all students were required to stay in simplicity. Twenty days of literary time make us cherish our hearts. Although the mountain is close, it can only stand at the foot of the mountain and look at the "maple forest night" under the setting sun from afar.
has never had such an experience before. Every time I went to Changsha, I squeezed out time to go to Yuelu Mountain. It seemed like a distant and involuntary agreement. It was not the appointment of a friend or the call of Maple Forest, but the uncontrollable steps of one's own footsteps and follow the flashes of one's heart. When it is late at night, I will also think about the origin of this state of mind, what kind of love does it have with Lushan. The answer is always ethereal, like the autumn wind passing by the leaves without leaving any trace, just like a stringless harp hanging on the snow-white wall, unable to play the notes, but it keeps ringing in my heart.
Feelings, such a stringless harp that cannot pluck the sound of the wind, but it can move the heart.
Lushan night talk is actually a night of nothing. I don’t know what to say to such feelings, or what to say to such feelings, it has nothing to do with the pounding heartbeat. I am silent at this moment; I am obsessed with obsession, I am indifferent at this moment.Perhaps the dreams, feelings, youth and passion that I have had have gradually blurred in the 20-year mark, and were even stained with thick dust by the fireworks on earth, abandoned in the museum of memory, sealed by a tightly cleft transparent cover. There are many stories that seem to have lost language, plot, blurred the framework, and no more flowing outlets, just like what I want to say now.
language, it is getting old non-stop, and it cannot find its destination with a cane. Novels, poetry, prose, cannot open the dusty heart. It seemed like the morning mountain wind and dewdrops and dusk clouds took away all the melancholy and affection, and it was too late to say hello to me. Yuelu Mountain is sleeping in the night. The footprints and the sound of pianos in the mountains wake up with a wandering fantasy, measuring the sorrowful sleep on the riverside and stroking the loneliness on the road to growth, without giving out a trace of echo from the depths of time.
steps to late at night, the wind swayed into the collar, as if he was in a dream and kept trying to drill into the quilt. Otherwise, let’s go back early. Tomorrow, Teacher Gong Shuguang will teach “The Aesthetic Carrier of Essays”. A roommate from the School of Literature told me.
At this moment, I suddenly found a hidden sound, which was called Lushan Night Talk. (Text/Sha Yan)
Author Profile
Sha Yan, real name is Li Jun, male, Tujia , student of the 21st period of Mao Zedong Academy of Literature, Hunan Online Writers Association member, deputy secretary-general of the Xiangxi Prefecture Writers Association, vice chairman of Jishou Xinjie League, member of Jishou Municipal CPPCC, Longyuan Journal Network contract writer, Douban Reading signed writer, ancestral home is Yongshun, Xiangxi, and has been engaged in book and journal editing and publishing work in Beijing, Shanghai and Changsha for more than ten years, editing and publishing "Shen Congwen Collection"/ Hunan People's Publishing House ; has served as editor-in-chief of "Motto", "Mystery", "Decoding Planet", and "Directory". He is currently the editor-in-chief of Daxiangxi New Media Matrix and the deputy general manager of Jishou Qiming Culture Development Co., Ltd. Advocate free and sincere writing, reading, and life; often creates under the pen name "Sha Yan". His works are published in publications such as " Youth Literature ", "Good", "Literary Circle", " Foshan Literature ", " Chinese Campus Literature ", "Youth", and other publications. His works have been selected for "2010 Chinese Youth Literature Selection"/ Changjiang Literature Publishing House ; "Ninety-Nine Poles: Selection of Presentationism in 2009"/ Huacheng Publishing House ; "2011 Chinese Minority Literature Annual Selection"/ Writer Publishing House and other books.
