That year, when I was very young, my sister said, take me to catch small fish in the newly harvested rice fields in front of the village. Terraces in mountainous areas are always unique. Mountain people get up early and get greedy for the dark, and they have cultivated and planted in the mountains for generations. Over time, the terraced fields formed the character of mountain people, and they were cut from the stream at the foot of the mountain to the mountainside with axes.

Honest and frank, simple Yi family, clear love and hate. Terrace is a masterpiece of hard work and wisdom of mountain people, a sculpture of nature, and a reflection of Yi family character.

From the perennial stream behind the village, green mountain spring water is attracted to irrigate rice fields. Every spring, farmers are busy sowing seeds, driving old cows and plowing and raking grass in the winding fields. All I remember is those little loaches running around in the muddy water, so my sister and I are happy to catch loaches behind our parents' plows and rakes.

In autumn, the mountains are golden. The ear of rice, in the heavy, receives the tits coming and going, especially the sparrows, and lives happily and carefree in the chirp. They can stop in any rice field and be full. Scarecrow, made of straw leaves by mountain people, is dressed in rags, so they won't be scared. They can eat anywhere they like. When you are full, go to the big banyan tree in front of the village to find relatives and friends and catch up enthusiastically.

After the rice was harvested, many rice stubbles were left in the terraced fields. My father and his friends drove the old cow to plow the fields early in the morning. Strangely, cows with thick calluses on their shoulders always listen to their fathers. When turning the land, he walked step by step along the turned mud ditch until he reached the field head. As soon as his father told him to turn around, the old cow turned around.

After the rice fields are turned over, there will be many wild small fish. When it's time to plant beans and wheat, the villagers will drain the water from the terraced fields, then go to furrow, bury the turned rice stubble under the ground, ridge the turned soil into the ground, pick up a lot of farmyard manure, and plant spring-sown crops such as broad beans and wheat with hoes.

At that time, the water in the field was almost half dry. Faced with the water that is about to dry up, those poor little fish are foraging in groups in the water with few ditches to find the next way out. Everyone in the mountains knows that at this time, as long as you bring a cage made of bamboo, you can catch many small fish.

My sister took me through the vine-covered stone mill in front of the village to plant wheat in the paddy field ditch in front of the village. In shallow water, you can see many small fish eating "water with their heads up" (now that I think about it, it may be that there is not enough oxygen, and the fish always float on the water to gasp). My sister said, little brother, you catch it over there and I'll catch it at Shuikou. After a while, many small fish will be driven into cages.

I said, "Sister. These little fish are very pitiful. They knew that the water was going to dry, and the family had no choice but to come out and find their way. Shall we put them in the stream? "

"The parents of this little fish don't know where they went. We put them in the stream and let them follow the stream to find their parents. " At first, my sister didn't want to. After I finally got through it, she said, "Well, it's up to you. You can't let people who drink catch it and eat it. They are still young. "

So, my brothers and sisters used a small bucket filled with clean water to carry those small fish eager to find their parents to the stream next to the water mill.

"Go to your parents!" Sister said, "The river is your home. Don't come to this rice field in the future. Frogs will eat you, and people will eat you. "

Since then, those poor little fish often swim helplessly in the rice fields in front of the village in my dreams at night.

I always thought that the little fish that my sister and I let go should have found our parents, and fought the wind and waves, walked the dangerous beach and crossed the bad waves in the choppy river for our own ideals or goals.

〔2〕

"I am a dying fish." Once, Xiaoyu didn't feel sad and said to me very flatly.

My heart is full of sadness, because I remember whether those small fish released with my sister were eaten by those rude mountain people or what happened on the road.

The screen name was originally a symbol, but through the screen name of The Little Mermaid in Heaven, I always feel that there is a feeling of being tired of the world of mortals and thinking about life. In short, there is a feeling of being in the world of mortals and overlooking the whole life.

A weak woman, a unique poet, doesn't know what kind of hardships she has suffered in life.

I remember a fairy tale I once heard: there was a young man who made a living by fishing. His parents are dead and he lives alone. One day, I caught a small red fish. The color of the fish is bright and lovely, and its bright eyes seem to be able to talk to people, and there is an unspeakable spirituality. For this reason, he didn't want to sell it, but carefully kept it in a stone jar. Every day when he comes back from fishing, he feeds him hard-earned fish food. One day not long after, the young man came back from fishing and saw the delicious food still steaming on the humble table. Strangely, there are no relatives or friends in the village. Who will help him?

After that, as long as he comes back from fishing, there will be delicious food every day. The young man is very confused. In order to find out the reason, on this day, he pretended to go fishing, walked to the entrance of the village, put down his fishing gear and went home quietly. Through the crack outside the dilapidated house, he saw a beautiful girl in a red skirt, cooking for herself. The girl's face is red and her eyes are bright. Although the young man is good-looking, his family is poor and the girls in the village have never really seen themselves.

"Whose kind girl is this?" He thought about it and went in to ask. He caught the girl who was cooking. In desperation, she told the truth. She was the little red fish. She was very grateful that he didn't sell it, so she became a person to cook for him. From then on, they fell in love and lived together.

This fairy tale has been growing with me. Every day, I always think of the lovely little red fish and the girl in the red skirt.

I haven't known Xiaoyu for a long time, nor is it short, but every line of her poems is always deeply engraved in my soul. No one can know how much helplessness and hardship a person who travels freely in the palace of literature will have in his experience and life.

There is a galaxy in the sky, and the seven fairies are still bathing unscrupulously in the hot summer days. They are so pure that people have no evil thoughts, their skin is as white as jade, their bodies are graceful, their faces are smiling and innocent.

Riverside, green grass, pavilions, singing and dancing. This kind of scene should only exist in the sky, and the filth on the ground is not touched at all. Green mountains and green waters leave the innocence of childhood, blue sky and white clouds, and write down their happiness.

It was infatuated Yong Dong who touched their hearts. It was the hateful cowherd who said that they met on the Queqiao Bridge on Tanabata.

However, the world is like a river, with the beautiful scenery of "canoeing across Chung Shan Man" and the rapids of "Yellow River roaring". Yes, there is true feelings in the world, but after repeated deception and jealousy, what is left? In despair, there are only words to pick up her broken heart, only mountains and rivers, missing the rice fields in my hometown and the sculptures of nature.

I'm thinking that the little fish should swim downstream to a waterfall and watch the splash. Sisters are dancing bravely, some are doing beautiful somersaults, some are dancing beautifully, and one is spraying a song.

My sister said that it was the boundless sea calling them. This is a beautiful love that bothers them. That's parents' advice and expectation. When children grow up, they have to fight the storm.

After nine twists and turns, the fish grew up in the storm and hurricane.

Natural selection, everything is animistic, people say "three lives", and the little fish is thinking, "Why is it so difficult to be a fish? In the next life, be a man! Next life, go to heaven! "

Heaven is just a virtual world. Who has seen cars coming and going in heaven? Those kitsch have already defiled the purity of Tianhe, and those magpies have already left home.

Zhumadian, south bank of the river.

Beautiful scenery and talented people come forth in large numbers. It is the hard work of parents that has nurtured the endless countryside, and it is a heavy history that has written the dream of small fish.

"Engineer of the human soul", what a lofty honor. In reality, how many people remember to respect teachers and attach importance to teaching? In the past, the master who taught martial arts always kept one hand, but now he knows that "the waves behind the Yangtze River push the waves before", and the master was worthless on the first day.

No matter how bad heaven is, it is much purer than this ugly world. The world is full of flowers and plants and colorful lights. How can it be as quiet as a small mountain village?

So, she sends her feelings between poems and weaves those sad words into poems. Above the mountains, like a bright star, it ranks high on the home page. How many difficulties and exclusions she encountered, how many blows and slanders she suffered, she was as attached to the country as ever.

"In three years, looking back, we have gained too much and lost too much." She said to her friend, "Who can understand my attachment to Jiangshan and my loyalty to my friends?"

The friend said, "My country is my master! Besides, in this illusory network, even in real life, isn't it also jealous of being virtuous and talented? Only friendship lasts forever! As long as the words are not old, we will be together! "

"Together!" The fish said.

Besides rivers, there are oceans ahead. I hope it's on the other side

I saw that in the season when grass grows and warblers fly, rows of Chun Yan flew over the blue sky in the chirp, building their own love nests. Last year's peach blossoms remained the same, and this year's spring remains the same. It is the spring breeze that turns your tears into nectar and moistens the earth, it is love and hate that soothes your wounds, it is the flying butterflies that arouse your deep feelings, and it is the swarms of dragonflies that write poems for you.

Spring water is still a fish, not a Chinese sturgeon, but a small fish in the Yangtze River.

I saw a red sun, which dyed Jiang Bibo red. It is the passion of summer that burns your love and hate and sets off your poems. Spring has come and gone, only the pursuit in my heart is burning with you. Zhumadian may not be stationed in Malaysia, but it retains history. Those all-powerful heroes didn't go far. The sound of hooves has broken the footprints of ancestors, and the sound of crossbows has sounded, remembering in the tranquility of the mountain village.

Catkin is swaying, not summer flowers, not the splendor of Luoyang peony, but a peony flower, singing noble and ordinary.

I see maple leaves in autumn, covered with endless hills. In my mind, holding hands with my beloved, wandering on a secluded path, picking off the maple leaves around me, writing down a promise of full love and giving it to the good people all over the world. Go to the chrysanthemum on the fence happily, pour the water from the Yangtze River and make you a cup of fragrant chrysanthemum tea.

In the world, canoes have crossed Chung Shan Man, and there are no fragrant hills. It is just a grass on the mountains and rivers, covered with crystal dew in the unknown wilderness.

I saw the snow in winter, pure and flawless, floating and spreading freely. When the northland wind blows through the white clothes, the flowers of Jiangshan still bloom. A big river, love is on both sides, the wind blows rice and flowers, and there is a beautiful woman in the south of the Yangtze River. The hibernating soil is thawed under the cultivation of relatives, and tireless small fish are still busy under the noisy ice ridge.

The four seasons are like smoke, and the mountains are high and the water is long. I love poetry and sing softly.

〔3〕

Who can walk into your heart and heal your wounds? Who will gently wipe the tears from your cheeks? Who can read the poems you wrote with your heart?

Only the legendary paradise, only the poems you can't bear, only your love without regrets!

If you know where you come from, you don't know where you are going. Get rid of those illusory reputations, including masterpieces that have won the national crown, including countless dazzling reputations in Jiangshan. You are still a sad fish, and you are lonely on earth and in heaven.

People only know that your poems are gentle, charming and introverted, and there is no lack of innovation in self-promotion and unique works. The poetic style is sometimes tender as water, and the wind, flowers and snow are all in the poem, and the charm of the rain hitting the banana is vividly portrayed. Sometimes arrogant and unruly, sometimes wild and provocative, giving people a magnificent feeling.

Since ancient times, scholars have been lonely. The nature of fish is always free. You don't need criticism from others. Your inner world is always in the words, in the spring flowers and the autumn moon, and in the lyric of selflessness.

Talented talents and love, your heart swims along the poem.

The companion who went down the river with you left. They can't stand worldly troubles. Under the polluted rivers, "near Zhu Zhechi, near Mexico, people are black", and they can't bear to blend in with ordinary people. Only you, without hesitation, swim far away.

The scenery that accompanied you through the four seasons is far away, with green mountains and green waters, the cries of trackers, apes, paddlers, waterfalls and swift rivers, leaving you alone in the distant future to ride the wind and waves.

I know that after all the hardships, you finally found a home and a warm harbor. So, without hesitation, you are attached to it, and you can't go home if you want to. You hold up your ideal with weak strength.

"When the money is enough, let's go home and build a house!" You care about migrant workers. Before the Chinese New Year, in that humble shed, you walked into them affectionately and listened to their voices. I think of my old parents in my hometown, the shabby thatched cottage in my hometown, the starving children, and the ragged and weather-beaten working couple.

"If you have money, go home for the New Year." The wife said.

"hmm." The husband hugged his wife with thin clothes and vicissitudes of life, and said, "Honey, don't worry, life will always get better, as long as the ideal doesn't die." Tonight, I will play horse with you! ""

On a dark and windy day, the fish is asking, "When will there be a bright moon?" ? The brush strokes directly face the bottom of society, and the deep love and compassion are beyond words!

It is the fertile soil of Jiangshan, which has nurtured her children, and it is China's passion that has ignited her descendants. Facing the motherland that raised him, Fish sang "Motherland on the Moon", "Red Ballad" and "Sickle and Axe" from the heart. Through those poems, I feel the ever-changing changes of the motherland and imagine the spring in China with the voice of a poet.

Where can there be a home without a country? Children don't think their mothers are ugly, and dogs don't think their families are poor. When someone smears your mother's face, you are infatuated, be immersed in love, and sing for your mother. How many people are there?

You love your hometown, and you can't forget the landscape and relatives in your hometown. The love of a wanderer dedicates his youth in planting peaches and plums, and only dreams remain in his hometown. Father's Sheep is still grazing in my heart, which reminds me of my first love and the afterlife of the emperor. "I am waiting for you with the river bank!" See the end of the world through your eyes. "Lights dim", and you have a "spring agreement", don't you forget? However, only "my parents" are still looking out at the village entrance.

Your thoughts, the "father in bed" finally heard, and the father of the world finally heard. I returned to my hometown in a few dreams, and two lines of tears wet my shirt. At this point, the poet's feelings have realized the love and affection of fish and the sadness and bitterness of wanderers.

You have a clear love and hate, and you have an essay, "like a dagger, like throwing a gun." Where there is literature, there is literary dross, just as there are human beings, there are traitors who ignore the national justice. So, you lightly lock your eyebrows, raise your arms and shout "hit the cultural dog"! People who know the etiquette of loyalty and filial piety are justified, otherwise they are "bitches cursing the street". Still indifferent to the world, "my country is my master" and "write your words for the dog to bite"! Dare not compare with Zhuge, he can divide the world into three parts and scold Wang Lang to death in Longzhong, but he can also read Debate of the Confucians, because the truth is always in the hearts of those who believe in it, not in a war of words.

A few words tell the mystery, who can think of this topic?

Be loyal to your friends. Because the scenery in the south of the Yangtze River has influenced your's feelings, and because "I live at the head of the Yangtze River", we drink a river together! The same blood flows in the body, so why care about right and wrong? "In October, Yujie is on the scene", which is a sincere wish to my friends. Ann, I still love you. This kind of love is definitely not narrow love! Always, fish heart, and friends! Friends who love each other warmly invite "Guoguo, please come to my country", because there is a "Happy Restaurant" beside the country road and on the hillside with flags flying! Controversial literature! A thoughtful post.

After several spring and autumn periods, the tide rises and falls. Let more than 700 articles be published, let 1 100 articles edited by literary friends be interpreted, and let intimate friends be reminded.

Fish, free and swimming in the mountains and rivers, always release their emotions in the songs of lotus pickers, no matter how big the wind and waves are.