An essay by Qiu Enjun About Peach Blossoms .

The Story of the Source of Flowers is a very good one.

Belch. I'm looking for this question too.

It just so happens that I also want an answer, so I'll take it away by the way.

About the Author.

Guo Moruo (1892-1978), formerly known as Guo Kaizhen, was a native of Leshan, Sichuan, a modern Chinese romantic poet, playwright, historian, and paleographer. In his early years, he studied medicine at Okayama High School and Kyushu Imperial University in Japan. At the Imperial University, poets began to engage in literary creation.

In 1920, the poet published a series of important works in the "Current Affairs News, Xuedeng", and in 1921, he published a collection of poems "The Goddess". This collection of poems is a milestone in the history of modern Chinese poetry, creating a romantic style of new Chinese poetry. In the same year, the poet and Yu Dafu and others organized the establishment of the Creation Society and founded the quarterly magazine "Creation".

In 1923, the poet graduated from the Imperial University. In 1926, the poet became the president of Guangdong University. In July of the same year, the poet accompanied the National Revolutionary Army on the Northern Expedition.

In August 1927, he participated in the Nanchang Uprising and joined the Communist Party of China. During the uprising, the poet created a large number of historical dramas, propagated the revolution, satirized Chiang Kai-shek's ugly face, and was wanted by Chiang Kai-shek. In February 1928, he began a 10-year exile in Japan.

During this period, the poet devoted himself to the study of ancient Chinese culture, which established his status as a historian and paleographer. In 1937, he secretly returned to China and actively participated in the anti-Japanese salvation movement, creating a large number of historical dramas with the atmosphere of the times, such as "Tiger Fu" and "Qu Yuan". After the liberation, the poet has been in charge of cultural work, and has served as president of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, vice chairman of the Standing Committee of the National People's Congress, and vice chairman of the National Committee of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference.

If. This love does not belong to you, so please let go of your hand. Love hurts, it hurts so much that I cry, so I choose to let go.

Letting go is a kind of helpless despair, and it hurts to the heart. When the people who once cherished life were about to meet strangers, they suddenly realized: it turned out that what they once thought was eternal, but in fact it was just a meeting in Pingshui.

I once thought that I could hold hands all the way like this, but when I let go, I realized that everything is just the accidental intersection of two parallel lines, when everything disappears, the parallel is still parallel, even if it is not far apart, it is already the end of the world.

The price of bravery is to let go of oneself first, admit defeat, accept helplessness, sigh softly, and wish him happiness in the future.

Curled up in the corner, waiting for the wound to heal, experiencing the freedom of daring to love, hate, and loss.

The feeling of happiness may only be instantaneous, and after a moment, it is a person's wonderful.

In the days after letting go, I will always be unhappy, and I will inexplicably cry for a song, a play, or even a sentence, always feel that the sky is dark, the clouds are gray, and I always feel that I have lost the meaning of life.

However, my friend told me that you have nothing to lose, you just go back to the days before you knew him.

I am relieved, just like fireworks can't hang in the sky forever, as long as they have been brilliant, why bother with days without fireworks?

We are all ordinary Hongchen men and women, unable to earn the love network of love and hate, and unable to escape the whirlpool of love and being loved.

After the heartbreak and sadness, there is endless loneliness. Lonely? Perhaps.

But savoring the chic after loneliness, thinking about the happiness other than him, thinking about no longer having to rack your brains to guess his mind, will you breathe a sigh of relief and feel a little more relaxed?

Is it really let go? I can face him calmly, even though there is a faint indescribable sourness in my heart, but I no longer cry, crying because a person's memory is in my heart, and I will not disperse it no matter what.

There was such a song. Are you afraid of loving me? ": Are you afraid of loving me, have you forgotten your tears? The heart is waiting for the rain to fall, and the tears have reached the cheeks; Are you afraid of loving me, isn't your heart dead? One step is nothing more than a cliff. ”

I asked myself again and again, "Am I scared of loving you?" "The answer is yes, I'm afraid, I'm really afraid.

The heart full of holes is so fragile that it can no longer withstand the torture of pain into the bone marrow, so I let you go, and let myself have a way to live, condensing you into a painting, deeply engraved in my mind, looking, thinking, but I will no longer be the person in the painting.

You can better appreciate the beauty of the painting when you are outside the painting, isn't it?

Shake hands vigorously and say sincerely, "Goodbye, cherish!" Turn your head and walk away freely, letting the back be deeply engraved in your mind.

When you can recall the moments of your past with a relieved mind, you can appreciate the beauty of letting go.

God let me meet you at the wrong time, and I cried; However, God is fair. Would you cry if, he asked me to leave you at the right time?

"Singing" sings about Zhu Ziqing's spiritual process, writing about the feeling of listening to songs. "What a loud singing! The beginning is a compliment to the singing he heard, immersed in the darkness and emptiness, as if he approached the light through the singing, so that his troubled and troubled heart was "calm like an ancient well", and he felt "wisps of warmth" in the coldness around him, and then the dirty world, all his worldly relations with people, were completely forgotten; So, he relieved himself of his heavy burden, and his mind rose and fell lightly with the song, and he immersed himself in it.

This poem is written without deep meaning, but it is unworldly, ethereal, and fresh, showing the mood and emotions of the time.

After two years, Zhu Ziqing wrote another essay on the same title, still writing about the feeling of listening to the song, which can be used as an interpretation of this poem. The prose "Singing" recorded that he listened to the three songs sung by Chinese and Western silk and bamboo at the Chinese and Western ** Song and Dance Conference, which fascinated him. His soul flutters briskly in the spring morning drizzle, swims among the splendid flowers in the garden, and refreshes the sweet fragrance of the lush grass, grass and earth in the east wind.

The last stanza reads: "Behold, all that is in the song, I sing with my ears, with my eyes, with my nose, with my tongue, with my body, and with my heart. I was finally struck by a kind of healthy paralysis, so I went all over the song.

After that, only the song was sung alone, and when I listened, there was only singing in the world. ”

What a picture of truth, goodness, and beauty! The song brings people into a pure and clear realm, where the poet is immersed in the vitality of life, where the poet's heart is immersed in the colorful, fragrant flowers and fragrant grass, the countryside is thriving, and the universe is full of vitality. It is not a realistic realistic sketch.

Nor is it a fierce romantic lyricism, but only writes about the euphoria and tranquility he derives from noble art, and expresses his pursuit of truth, goodness, and beauty in contrast to the reality of falsehood, evil, and ugliness. This was also the common mentality of some young intellectuals at that time who loved and converted to the palace of art.