How is the moonlight in Zhu Ziqing’s lotus pond?
I have been feeling quite uneasy these past few days. Tonight, I was sitting in the yard enjoying the cool air, and suddenly I thought of the lotus pond I walked past every day. It must look different under the full moonlight. The moon was gradually rising, and the laughter of the children on the road outside the wall could no longer be heard; my wife was patting Run'er in the house and humming a lullaby in a daze. I quietly put on my coat, closed the door and went out.
Along the lotus pond, there is a winding small cinder road. This is a secluded road; few people walk it during the day, and it is even more lonely at night. There are many trees growing on all sides of the lotus pond, full of lush green leaves. On one side of the road are some willows and some trees whose names I don’t know. On a moonless night, the road is eerie and a bit scary. Tonight is very good, although the moonlight is still faint.
I was the only one on the road, walking (duo) with my hands behind my back. This world seemed to belong to me; I also seemed to have transcended my ordinary self and entered another world. I love being lively and calm; I love being in groups and being alone. Like tonight, a person can think about anything and think about nothing alone under this vast moonlight, and he feels like a free person. Whatever you must do or say during the day can be ignored now. This is the beauty of being alone. Let me just enjoy the boundless lotus fragrance and moonlight.
On the surface of the winding and twisting lotus pond, one could see fields of leaves. The leaves are high out of the water, like the skirts of a graceful dancer. Among the layers of leaves, white flowers are dotted here and there, some are blooming gracefully, some are holding their flowers shyly; just like individual bright pearls, or stars in the blue sky, and some are like stars in the blue sky. Like a beauty just out of the bath. The breeze passed by, bringing wisps of fragrance, like the faint singing from a tall building in the distance. At that time, the leaves and flowers also trembled slightly, like lightning, which immediately spread across the lotus pond. The leaves were densely packed side by side, and there seemed to be a ripple of solid blue. Under the leaves are veins of running water, which are covered and some colors cannot be seen; but the leaves are even more beautiful.
The moonlight is like flowing water, quietly flowing on this leaf and flower. Thin green mist floats in the lotus pond. The leaves and flowers seem to have been washed in milk; they are also like a dream wrapped in a veil. Although it was a full moon, there was a thin layer of clouds in the sky, so it couldn't shine brightly; but I thought this was just the right thing - a sound sleep is essential, but a nap also has its own flavor. The moonlight shines through the trees, and the dense shrubs high up cast jagged and mottled black shadows, as steep as ghosts; the sparse shadows of the curved willows seem to be painted on lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond is not uniform; but the light and shadow have a harmonious melody, like the famous music played on the Fan Erling (English transliteration of violin).
On all sides of the lotus pond, far and near, there are trees high and low, among which willows are the most numerous. These trees surrounded a lotus pond; only a few gaps were left on the side of the path, as if they were specially left for the moonlight. The color of the trees is gloomy, and at first glance they look like a cloud of smoke; but the beauty of the willows can also be distinguished in the smoke. Faintly looming above the treetops is a distant mountain range, just a general outline. There are one or two street lights leaking through the cracks in the trees, looking listless like sleepy eyes. The liveliest sounds at this time were the cicadas chirruping on the trees and the frogs croaking in the water; but the excitement was theirs and I enjoyed nothing.
Suddenly I remembered the lotus picking thing. Picking lotus is an old custom in the south of the Yangtze River. It seems to have been around for a long time, and it was popular during the Six Dynasties. We can roughly know it from poetry. Those who picked lotuses were young women. They went in boats and sang erotic songs. Needless to say, there are many people picking lotus, and there are also people watching lotus picking. It was a lively season and also a romantic season. Emperor Yuan of the Liang Dynasty said it well in "Poem of Picking the Lotus":
Therefore, the enchanting girl Yuán (yuán) made a promise to go boating; the hawk (yì) head slowly returned, and the feather cup was passed on; The algae is hanging when it is about to move, and the boat is floating when it is about to move. Her waist is slender and her clothes are tied tightly, and her steps are delayed. At the beginning of summer and after spring, when the leaves are tender and the flowers are blooming, she smiles for fear of getting her clothes wet, and pulls her clothes back for fear of capsizing the boat.
It can be seen that there was a lot of fun at that time. This is really interesting stuff, but unfortunately we are no longer blessed with it.
Then I remembered the sentence in "Xizhou Song":
In autumn, the lotus flowers in Nantang are more than human heads; I lower my head to pick up the lotus seeds, which are as clear as water. If there are lotus pickers tonight, the lotus flowers here will be considered "outstanding"; just a few shadows of running water will not do. This makes me miss Jiangnan after all.
Thinking like this, I suddenly looked up and found myself in front of my own door. I pushed the door gently and went in. There was no sound. My wife had been asleep for a long time.
Where is Feng Zikai’s willow?
I heard people say that this plant is the meanest. Cut a branch and stick it in the ground, and it will come to life and eventually turn into a big willow tree. It does not need noble fertilizers or deep cultivation. As long as there is sunshine, soil and water, it will live and grow very strong and beautiful. Peonies eat pig intestines, grape vines eat broth, many flowers and trees eat bean cakes, and willow trees don't eat other people's food, so people say it is "cheap". Probably "expensive" means you have to eat it. The more you want to eat, the more you want to eat well, the more "expensive" it becomes. It seems more expensive to eat a lot and have no use, just for viewing. For example, peonies are more expensive than grapes because peonies are useless after eating pig intestines, while grapes have fruit after eating broth. Willows do not want to eat people's food, and they have wood for people to use, so they are regarded as "cheap" by others.
I praise the beauty of willows, but their beauty is different from peonies and from all other flowers and trees. The chief beauty of the willow is its drooping. Most of the flowers and trees grow upward. Red apricots can grow to "out of the wall" and ancient trees can grow to "towering into the sky". Going upward is good, but I often see branches, leaves, flowers and fruits flourishing, and I seem to have forgotten the roots below, which I find disgusting! You are dependent on him for a living, so why do you just sit on top and ignore him? Your life is built on Him, so how come you only covet your own glory and never look back at your roots in the dirt? Most flowers and trees are like this. Even though the roots below have been chopped off, the flowers and leaves above are still thriving. It's really disgusting and pitiful to be there for the last moment of blessing! The willow does not have such a hateful and pitiful appearance: it is not that it cannot grow upward. It grows quickly and is very tall; but the taller it grows, the lower it hangs. Thousands of slender willows on the street, all of them do not forget the roots. They often look down below, borrowing the power of the spring breeze to dance to the roots in the soil, or kiss them, like a group of lively children surrounding them. They play with their loving mothers, and they often lean to their loving mother's side, or throw themselves into their loving mother's arms, which makes people feel very cute when they see them. There are also willow trees that are higher than the top of the wall, but I don’t mind them being tall. I can stand down just because they are tall, and I can’t forget my roots just because they are tall.
Since ancient times, willows have often been used as a main theme of spring in poems and essays. When writing about spring scenery, it is called "ten thousand trees weeping willows", when writing about spring scenery, it is called "willows on the streets", or even spring is called "wicker spring". I think this is not just because the willows are taking out branches in spring, but actually because the trees have a special posture that is very harmonious with the peaceful and beautiful spring scenery. This special posture is "drooping". Otherwise, there are so many trees that sprout in spring, why would wicker be the master of spring? Just because other trees have relied on the power of spring to strive upward, blindly seeking heights, forgetting their own roots, and their greed is not in line with the spirit of spring. The only thing that best symbolizes the divine will of spring is the weeping poplar.
This is what I thought on a whim yesterday when I saw the willows beside the West Lake. But it’s not just the willows on the West Lake that I praise. Under the spring sunshine these days, willows everywhere in the countryside have such admirable postures. West Lake seems too noble to be suitable for planting such "cheap" weeping poplars.