Prose Quotations from "Moonlight in Old Times"

Prose Quotations from "Moonlight in the Old Times"

Zhang Chao of the Qing Dynasty said in "Youmengying" about collecting books and reading: "Collecting books is not difficult, but being able to read is difficult; reading is not difficult, but being able to Reading is difficult; reading is not difficult, but being able to use it is difficult; using books is not difficult, but being able to memorize is difficult. ?In addition to these five realms, it seems that one can be added: it is not difficult to write down books, but it can be difficult to think about. Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in Old Times"

At around nine o'clock in the morning, the golden and silver sunlight on the way into the city gradually faded, leaving a faint ink in the sky. The wind is very cold, and the rustling of the old trees in the park tells stories of rise and fall that no one can understand. There are birdsong. Has a floral scent. I sat on a bench and flipped through a pile of photocopied materials from the library. The wind is getting stronger and colder. The clouds broke through, and a few rays of afternoon sun shone through the sky. An old British gentleman I met at a nearby small bookstore in the morning also came out for a walk. His trench coat was as wrinkled as the lines on his face. The beer in the tavern stained his big nose.

Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in Old Times"

Not long after, Mr. Jiang wrote a letter saying: "The flying turtle is so good, Li Yihong has already used his hands to describe it, and his saliva is flying everywhere." I am confused and thinking about it. ?, and added a line of small characters next to it saying: ?Predecessors mistook it as sister in their examination essay, and the examiner criticized it: Brother, you are wrong. ?

　Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in the Old Times"

Cultural immigrants like me only look forward to the weather-stricken passers-by among the water and clouds in Xiaoxiang. They never forget to warn: After the disaster The smoke trees and human faces are actually still in the blur under the desk lamp, so there is no need to worry too much.

?Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in Old Times"

I am a person of the old school. The shadows of the bamboos swaying by the window and the inkstone dripping from the wild spring are still lingering, and the computer keyboard is typing the literary ideas. .The age is here, but what I yearn for is the tranquility of drinking wine in Qingliangu and admiring flowers under the red sun. I have never been able to enjoy the fate of writing like Mr. Pan. After all, I have been unwilling to be lonely for decades. Opportunities come and go, and I collect scraps of paper and words to weave dreams. All I want is to deceive myself, thinking that I have raised a long sword. A glass of wine brings a breath of fresh air to the heart of a tall building thousands of miles away.

?Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in Old Times"

The youthful years are often the years that people miss the most in their lives. It may not be all the golden memories of dense trees and green mountains; maybe it is a wish to see the clouds that was shattered in Master Yan’s study, maybe it was a dusk date that failed beside the residual lotus listening to the rain, and it may be that decades later, the memory of Looking back at Piaoshuang's temples carefully, the dusty regret in her heart was instantly covered up by the rising warmth. In fact, it is an almost shallow and vulgar idea. It has been exaggerated by one generation after another. There are many creations at home and abroad that recall the past of childhood, but it still breaks through time and space and arouses endless emotions.

?Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in Old Times"

I have been on the road for almost sixty years. Writing such a short piece of memory every week will inevitably wake up to the vastness of the world. , worldly sentiments, the many worldly connections that linger in my heart, I am always a humble and simple mortal next door. I have no noble fame or a prosperous career. I spend most of my life drifting in a mediocre life. What I yearn for may be just the greenery in half the window. The shadow and the wind and moon on the paper. We meet by chance in a deserted village in life, just like meeting in an ancient temple sheltered from the rain. We care about the bumpy road ahead, gossip about daily life, when the rain stops and the cock crows, we say "treasure", we part ways, we don't know when we will meet again. We met and talked about old times under the old locust tree. However, as the years pass by like water, the vicissitudes of life are like dreams, and we reminisce about the past under the quiet night lamp, the sound of their footsteps will always be close at hand. With almost a slight shout, the person will carry a pot of Longjing, open half of the bamboo door, and leisurely Step in and count the dust after farewell.

?Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in Old Times"

When (Zhou Mengdie) wrote about Zhang Ailing, his words could not help but be a little white on purpose: In severe cold areas, it is likely to crystallize again and again overnight. When you wake up, you will be a shadow of a plum blossom, smiling leisurely in your own secret fragrance. ?

?Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in Old Times"

Fang Yu said: A thief visited the professors' dormitory of National Taiwan University. The professors held a meeting later to discuss countermeasures. They discussed for a long time and finally reached an agreement. Soon, a notice with beautiful calligraphy was hung at the door of the dormitory: "No idlers allowed in!" What a helpless irony. What lovely literati!

? Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in the Old Times"

It doesn't have to be the late Qing Dynasty or the early Republic of China. The gold dust in Zhang Ailing's works also smells like camphor. . I recently went to the Taipei Museum of History to see the "Golden Years" exhibition. Those old advertisements and old calendar cards were all condensed into a residual dream of the 1920s and 1930s, set against sets of mahogany furniture, hand-cranked telephones, and iron irons. There were flowers on the table, and under the yellow-orange lights, people were waiting hard for Zhang Ailing to wake up and go downstairs to meet the guests. After walking up the stone steps of the museum, I turned left and saw a corner of a pavilion selling tea and water. The low fence beside the pavilion was surrounded by green vines. The small flowers blooming on an old tree fell to the ground like dots of lingering snow. In the gray sky of old Taipei, I saw three or two singing birds flying hurriedly. It turned out that just a few hundred steps away was the Botanical Garden. I suddenly smelled the faint fragrance of lotus, and the sadness of reading "Legends of Lotus" when I was a student came to my mind.

?Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in the Old Time"

After I left home and wandered around the lakes and seas at the age of seventeen, I experienced the difficult life of Taiwanese cabbage and fat meat, and also experienced the British fried potatoes. In the light days of fish, food tastes slowly change with the knowledge: thinking of Shi Xiangyun, I want to eat a bowl of crab meat noodle soup; thinking of Li Ping'er, I want to eat a plate of duck tongue; reading Lamb's essays, I want to eat roast suckling pig; reading Mao Mao Mu's novel wants to eat foie gras.

?Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in the Old Times"

That evening, the three of us little ghosts quietly followed the veranda to observe the whereabouts of the crickets. We tiptoed around the dark corner and suddenly found the man. She was naked and hugged Yun Gu gently. Yun Gu's braids were loose, and her jade-white face was nestled tightly against her shiny chest.

?Dong Qiao's "Moonlight in Old Times";