It is a tree that strives for the upper reaches, with straight trunks and straight branches. Its trunk is usually about ten feet high, as if it has been artificially made, and there are no side branches within one foot; all its branches are pointed upward and close together, as if they have been artificially made. It forms a bunch, never escaping sideways; its broad leaves are also upward, with almost no sideways, let alone hanging upside down; its skin is smooth and has a silver halo, slightly glowing with light. blue. This is a tree that remains stubbornly erect despite the pressure of northern wind and snow! Even though it is only as thick as a bowl, it strives to grow upward, reaching a height of about ten feet, two feet, towering into the sky, indomitable, and resisting the northwest wind.

This is the poplar tree, a very common tree in the Northwest, but it is by no means an ordinary tree!

It has no whirling posture, no bending and circling branches. Maybe you want to say that it is not beautiful - if beauty refers specifically to "whirlpooling" or "escaping sideways", So the poplar tree is not a good woman among trees; but it is majestic, upright, simple, serious, and not lacking in gentleness, not to mention its unyielding and uprightness. It is a great man among trees! When you walk on the plateau where the snow has just melted and see such a tree or a row of poplar trees standing proudly on the flat land, do you think the trees are just trees? Don't you think of how simple, serious and unyielding they are? , at least it symbolizes the farmers in the north; how could you not imagine that in the vast land behind enemy lines, there are strong and unyielding sentinels everywhere, standing proudly like the poplar tree, guarding their hometown! Don't you think that the poplar trees, with their branches and leaves closely united and striving for progress, seem to symbolize the spirit and will of those who are fighting today in the North China Plain to write the history of New China with their blood?

——Excerpt from Mao Dun's "Praise to Poplar"

Work No. 2

Two young people of the same age were employed in a shop at the same time and received the same salary. salary.

But after a while, the young man named Arnold rose rapidly, while the young man named Bruno was still standing still. Bruno was very dissatisfied with his boss's unfair treatment. Finally one day he went to his boss to complain. While the boss patiently listened to his complaints, he was thinking about how to explain to him the difference between him and Arnold.

"Mr. Bruno," the boss said, "go to the market now and see what is on sale this morning."

Bruno came back from the market and asked The boss reported that there was only one farmer with a cart of potatoes for sale at the market this morning.

"How many?"

Bruno quickly put on his hat and ran to the market, then came back and told the boss that there were one to forty bags of potatoes.

"What's the price?"

Bruno went to the market for the third time and asked about the price.

"Okay," the boss said to him, "Now please sit on this chair without saying a word and see what Arnold says."

Arnold was quick Just came back from the market. He reported to his boss that so far there was only one farmer selling potatoes, with a price of one to forty pockets. What was the price? The quality of the potatoes was very good, and he brought one back for the boss to see. The farmer will get several boxes of tomatoes an hour later. According to him, the price is very fair. The tomatoes in their shop were sold very fast yesterday, and the stock was running low. He thought that with such cheap tomatoes, the boss would definitely buy some, so he not only brought back a tomato as a sample, but also brought the farmer with him. He is now waiting outside for a reply.

At this time, the boss turned to Bruno and said: "Now you must know why Arnold's salary is higher than yours!"

——Excerpted from " "Difference" in "Story Age"

Work No. 3

I often regret the ugly stone in front of my house: it lies there black and looks like a cow; No one knows when it was left here, and no one pays attention to it. But during the wheat harvest season, when wheat is spread out in front of the door, grandma always says: This ugly stone is blocking the ground, so please move it away later.

It is not as delicate as white marble, which can be chiselled with words and carvings, nor is it as smooth as large bluestone, which can be used to wash yarn and beat cloth; it lies there quietly, and the Sophora japonica beside the courtyard is The shade does not cover it, and the flowers no longer grow around it. Weeds proliferated, and the branches and vines were slowly covered with green moss and black spots. As children, we also disliked it, and we once tried to move it away together, but we were not strong enough. Although we often cursed it and despised it, we had no choice but to let it stay there.

One day, an astronomer came to the village. He was passing by my house and suddenly spotted this stone, and his eyes immediately straightened. He stayed there without leaving. Later, many people came and said that this was a meteorite that had fallen from the sky for two or three hundred years and that it was a great thing. A car soon came and carefully carried it away.

This surprised us all! This strange and ugly stone turns out to be from heaven! It patched up the sky, generated heat and flashed light in the sky. Our ancestors may have looked up to it, and it gave them light, yearning, and longing; but it fell, lying in the dirt and grass, where hundreds of people could see it. year!

I felt my own shame, and also felt the greatness of the ugly stone; I even resented it for enduring all this silently for so many years? And I immediately deeply felt the greatness of its unyielding and lonely existence.

——Excerpt from "The Ugly Stone" by Jia Pingwa

Work No. 4

When Darui was eight years old, one day he wanted to go to the movies. Since he had no money, he thought whether to ask his parents for money or earn money himself. In the end he chose the latter. He made his own soda and sold it to passers-by. But it was a cold winter there, and no one bought it, except for two people - his father and mother.

He had a chance conversation with a very successful businessman. When he told the businessman about his "bankruptcy history", the businessman gave him two important suggestions: first, try to solve a problem for others; second, focus on what you know, what you can, and what you have. on things.

These two suggestions are critical. Because there’s not a lot that an eight-year-old can’t do. So he walked through the streets, thinking: What problems would people face, and how could he take advantage of this opportunity?

One day, during breakfast, his father asked Darui to get the newspaper. American newspaper delivery boys always slip newspapers through a special tube in the garden fence. If you want to eat breakfast and read the newspaper comfortably in your pajamas, you must leave the warm room, brave the cold wind, and go to the garden to get them. Although the road is short, it is very troublesome.

While Darry was getting a newspaper for his father, an idea was born. That same day he rang the doorbells of his neighbors and told them that for just one dollar a month, he would slip the newspaper under their doors every morning. Most agreed, and soon he had more than seventy customers. A month later, when he got the money he earned, he felt like he was flying into the sky.

Soon he had a new opportunity. He asked his customers to put garbage bags in front of their doors every day, and then he would transport them to the trash cans in the morning for an additional dollar a month. Later, he also came up with many ways for children to make money, and compiled them into a book called "Two Hundred and Fifty Ideas for Children to Make Money." For this reason, Darui became a best-selling author at the age of twelve, had his own talk show at the age of fifteen, and had millions of dollars at the age of seventeen.

—— Fisher's "The Story of Darui", translated by Liu Zhiming

Work No. 5

This is the first show on the Jiaodong Peninsula since the beginning of winter Snow.

The snow was falling heavily. It started with a light rain, and soon large tracts of snowflakes were seen falling from the cloud-covered sky. The ground turned white after a while. In the mountain villages in winter, everything is silent at night. You can only hear the snowflakes falling continuously, and the dead branches of the trees are broken by the weight of the snow, making an occasional creaking sound.

It snowed heavily all night. This morning, the sky cleared and the sun came out. I opened the door and took a look, oh! What a heavy snow! Mountains, rivers, trees, and houses were all covered with a thick layer of snow, and thousands of miles of mountains and rivers turned into a world of pink and jade. The willow trees with fallen leaves are covered with fluffy and shiny silver bars; while the evergreen pine and cypress trees in winter and summer are covered with fluffy and heavy snowballs. A gust of wind blows, the branches sway gently, beautiful silver bars and snowballs fall rustlingly, and jade-like snowballs flutter in the wind, reflecting the morning sun, showing colorful rainbows.

The snow on the street is more than a foot deep, and when people step on it, there is a crunching sound under their feet. Groups of children were building snowmen and throwing snowballs in the snow. Their joyful shouts shook the snow off the branches.

As the saying goes, "Auspicious snow heralds a good year." This statement has sufficient scientific basis and is not a superstitious idiom. Heavy snowfall in the cold winter can freeze to death some overwintering pests; the melted water seeps deep into the soil and can supply the needs of crop growth. I believe that this very timely heavy snow will definitely promote a bumper harvest of crops next spring, especially wheat. Experienced farmers compare snow to "wheat quilt". The thicker the "quilt" is in winter, the better the wheat will grow in the next spring, so there is another proverb: "If you cover wheat with three layers of quilt in winter, you will sleep with steamed buns on your pillow next year."

I think , this is why people call the timely heavy snow "auspicious snow".

——Excerpt from "The First Snow" by Jun Qing

Work No. 6

I often think that scholars are the happy people in the world, because in addition to having reality In addition to this world, there is another world that is vaster and richer. The real world is available to everyone, but the latter world is unique to scholars. From this I think how unfortunate those who have lost or cannot read are, their loss is irreparable.

There are many inequalities in the world, including wealth inequality and power inequality, but the possession or loss of reading ability is reflected in spiritual inequality.

In a person's life, he can only experience the joy and suffering he has, perhaps plus some experiences he personally knows about experiences other than himself. However, through reading, people can enter the worlds of many others in different time and space. In this way, people with the ability to read invisibly gain unlimited possibilities beyond limited life. Reading not only allowed him to learn more about the names of plants, trees, insects and fish, but also allowed him to go back to ancient times and into the future, and enjoy the strange customs of existence and non-existence.

More importantly, reading benefits people not only by increasing their knowledge, but also by spiritual influence and cultivation. People learn how to behave from reading, and learn their personality from the writings of ancient philosophers and contemporary talents. People learn intelligent thinking from the Analects of Confucius, the serious historical spirit from "Historical Records", the strength of personality from "Song of Righteousness", the passion of the world from Marx, the critical spirit from Lu Xun, and the spirit of criticism from Trust. Erstair learned moral persistence. Goethe's poems are engraved with wisdom in life, and Byron's poems call for the passion for struggle. A scholar, a lucky person who has the opportunity to have life experiences beyond his own.

——Excerpt from "Readers Are Happy People" by Xie Mian

Work No. 7

One day, my father came home very late from get off work. Tired and a little annoyed, he found his five-year-old son leaning against the door, waiting for him.

"Dad, can I ask you a question?

"What question? ""Dad, how much money can you make in one hour? "This has nothing to do with you, why do you ask this question?" the father said angrily.

"I just want to know, please tell me, how much money do you make per hour?" the child begged. "If you must know, I make twenty dollars an hour."

"Oh," the child lowered his head, then said, "Dad, can you lend me ten dollars?" Father Angry: "If you just want to divide the responsibilities and buy meaningless toys, go back to your room and sleep. Think about why you are so selfish. I work hard every day and have no time to play with you. Game."

The child silently returned to his room and closed the door.

The father sat down still angry. Later, he calmed down. I thought that he might be too cruel to the child - maybe the child really wanted to buy something, and besides, he rarely asked for money.

The father walked into the child's room: "Are you asleep?" "Dad, not yet, I'm still awake." The child replied.

"I may have been too harsh on you just now," the father said. "I shouldn't be so angry - this is the ten dollars you want." "Dad, thank you." The child happily took out some crumpled bills from under the pillow and counted them slowly.

"Why do you still need money when you already have money?" my father asked puzzledly.

"Because it was not enough before, but now I have enough." The child replied: "Dad, I have twenty dollars now. Can I buy an hour from you? Please go home early tomorrow. ――I want to have dinner with you.」

――Excerpted from "The Value of Twenty Dollars" compiled by Tang Jiliu

Work No. 8

I love it. Moonlight night, but I also love the starry sky. In the past, when I was enjoying the cool air in the courtyard at night in July and August in my hometown, I loved to look at the densely packed stars in the sky. Looking at the stars, I will forget everything, as if I have returned to my mother's arms.

Three years ago, there was a back door to the place where I lived in Nanjing. When I opened the back door, I saw a silent night. Below is a vegetable garden, above is a blue sky filled with stars. Although starlight is tiny in our eyes, it makes us feel bright everywhere. At that time, I was reading some astronomy books, and I also recognized some stars, as if they were my friends and they were often talking to me.

Now on the sea, facing the stars, I recognize them very well. I lay on the deck and looked up at the sky. There are countless half-bright stars hanging in the deep blue sky. The ship is moving, and the stars are moving too. They are so low, so precarious! Gradually my eyes blurred, and I seemed to see countless fireflies flying around me. The night at sea is soft, quiet and dreamy. There are many familiar stars on my shoulder. I seem to see them blinking at me, and I seem to hear them whispering. At this point I forgot everything. In the arms of the star, I smiled and fell asleep. I felt like a little child now sleeping in my mother's arms.

One night, the Englishman who got on the ship in Colombo pointed out to me the giant in the sky. He pointed with his hand: the four bright stars are the head, the lower ones are the body, these are the hands, those are the legs and feet, and the three stars are the belt. After his guidance. Sure enough, I saw the giant in the sky clearly. Look, the giant is still running!

——Excerpt from Ba Jin's "Stars"

Work No. 9

I went to the river beach during the holidays and saw many children flying kites.

There are long leads, one end is tied to the sky and the other end is tied to the ground. The child and the kite are wandering between the sky and the earth, and even the heart is so wandering that it seems to be in childhood again.

Most of the kites I flew when I was a child were made by my elders or family members. A few thin strips were tied into various shapes of birds and animals with fine yarn, and they were pasted with snow-white out-of-print , and then use colored pens to outline the pattern of the face and wings. Usually the ones that get the most pricks are "Old Eagle", "Beauty", "Flower Butterfly", etc.

There is an uncle in our front yard who is good at flying kites and is famous far and wide. Not only did he make the kite look good-looking and colorful, it could fly high and far. He also stretched a diaphragm made of pampas grass on the kite. When the wind blows, it makes a "buzzing" sound, which is like the singing of the kite. Played under the blue sky, it adds endless charm to the open world and brings a bit of madness to the exhaustion of the galloping.

Almost all the kites flown by the children in our alley are made by my uncle. He doesn't sell his kites for money. He gives them to anyone who comes to ask for them. He is happy to pay for the materials himself.

Later, this uncle went overseas, and kite flying gradually became far away from the children. But every year when my uncle writes letters to his hometown, he never forgets to mention his childhood kite flying. After the return of Hong Kong, he mentioned in his letter home that his kite was flown overseas by his hometown. Although it was floating around and weathered by wind and rain, the thread was always held in the hands of his hometown and relatives. Now it is too tired to fly. It’s time to return to my hometown and relatives.

Yes. I think, not only uncle, but each of us is a kite, held in the hands of mother, flying from childhood to adulthood, and then flying from hometown to the place where the motherland needs it most!

——The verse is from Li Hengrui's "Kite Rhapsody"

Work No. 10

Dad doesn't know how to express love. What makes our family get along harmoniously is My mother. He just went to and from get off work every day, and Mom would make a list of the wrong things we had done, and then he would scold us.

Once I stole a piece of candy and he asked me to send it back and tell the candy seller that I had stolen it and that I would unpack and unpack it for him as compensation. But my mother understands that I am just a child.

I fell and broke my leg while playing on the swing in the sports ground. It was my mother who held me on the way to the hospital. Dad parked his car in front of the emergency room, and they told him to move away, saying the space was reserved for emergency vehicles. Dad yelled after hearing this: "What kind of car do you think this is? A tourist bus?"

Dad always looks a little out of place at my birthday parties. He was just busy blowing up balloons, setting the table, and doing chores. It was my mother who pushed the cake with the candles over for me to blow on.

When I look through photo albums, people always ask, "What's your dad like?" God knows! He is always busy taking pictures of others. There are countless photos of my mom and I smiling together.

I remember my mother once taught me how to ride a bicycle. I told him not to let go, but he said it was time to let go. After I fell, my mother ran over to help me, but my father waved her away. I was very angry at the time and determined to give him some trouble. So I immediately climbed on the bike and rode it for him. He just smiles.

When I was in college, all the letters home were written by my mother. In addition to sending a check, he also sent me a short letter saying that because I no longer played football on the lawn, his lawn grew beautifully.

Every time I called home, he seemed to want to talk to me, but he always said, "I'll call your mother to pick him up."

When I got married, I dropped the phone. It was my mother who was crying. He just blew his nose loudly and walked out of the room.

I grew up hearing him say, "Where are you going? When are you coming home? Is there gas in the car? No, you're not allowed to go." Dad didn't know how to express love at all. Unless...

Could it be that he has already expressed it but I failed to notice it?

——Excerpt from [American] Irma Bombeck's "A Father's Love"

Work No. 11

A big question has been lingering in my head :

How can the World Cup have such great appeal? Apart from the charm of football itself, is there anything greater than it?

Watching the World Cup recently, I suddenly got the answer: it is because of a supreme spiritual emotion - the sense of national honor!

Everyone on earth will have the concept of a country, but they may not always have national feelings. Often when people go to a foreign country and miss their hometown, the concept of the country becomes flesh and blood, and the feeling of patriotism becomes very concrete. In modern society, with the rapid development of science and technology, fast information and access to the Internet for everything, the world is really too small, and the boundaries between countries seem not to be so clear. Besides, football is rapidly globalizing. Players from various countries transfer frequently and come and go at will. As a result, more and more national leagues have international elements. The players deny nationality and only play for their own clubs. There is no element of patriotism in the passion when they play.

However, at the World Cup, the world changed drastically. Players from all over the world returned to play for their countries and wore uniforms with the same colors as the glorious national flag.

Before every game, the national anthem is sung and the fans pledge their love and loyalty to their motherland. A kind of blood emotion began to burn in the blood vessels of the whole body, and the blood immediately boiled.

In historical times, there were frequent confrontations between countries, and good men defended their country in uniform. The honor of the country often needs to be exchanged for one's own life. But in peacetime, only this kind of large-scale confrontational competition between countries can evoke that distant and sacred emotion, that is: fighting for the motherland!

——Excerpt from Feng Jicai's "Sense of National Honor"

Work No. 12

Not long after the sun set, the western sky was still burning with an orange-red sunset glow. . The sea was also dyed red by the glow, and it was even more spectacular than the sky. Because it is active, every time a row of waves rises, the glow reflected on the wave peaks is red and bright, just like pieces of burning flames, flickering and disappearing. And the row at the back was flashing, rolling, and rushing over.

The glow in the sky gradually faded, the deep red color turned into crimson, and the crimson color turned into light red. Finally, when all the red light disappeared, the sky, which suddenly seemed higher and farther away, took on a solemn look. The first morning star to appear flickered on the blue sky. It is so big and so bright, it is the only one in the vast sky that emits eye-catching brilliance, just like a beacon hanging high in the sky.

The night is getting darker, and there are more and more "bright lights" in the sky. And the real lights all over the city also lit up one after another, especially the lights on the hillsides around the harbor, which were reflected from mid-air on the dark blue sea, swaying and flashing with the waves, like a string of lights. The flowing pearls and the stars densely scattered in the sky reflect each other, which is really beautiful.

In this beautiful night, I stepped on the soft beach and walked slowly forward along the seaside. The sea water gently caresses the soft sandy beach, making a gentle brushing sound. The late sea breeze is fresh and cool. There was indescribable excitement and joy in my heart.

The night breeze blew gently, and there was a scent of the sea and fields floating in the air. The soft beach still retained the residual warmth of the sun during the day. People who had been working at various jobs for a day came to the soft beach in twos and threes. They bathed in the cool sea breeze, looked at the star-studded night sky, laughed and rested to their heart's content.

——Excerpt from "A Midsummer Night on the Seaside" by Jun Qing

Work No. 13

The birth of life in the ocean is by no means accidental. The physics and chemistry of the ocean nature, making it the cradle of primitive life.

We know that water is an important component of living things. The water content of many animal tissues is more than 80%, and the water content of some marine organisms is as high as 95%. Water is an important medium for metabolism. Without it, a series of physiological and biochemical reactions in the body cannot proceed, and life will cease. Therefore, it is more dangerous for animals to be deprived of water over a long period of time than to be deprived of food. Water is so important to today's life, and it is even more important to fragile primitive life. If life is born in the ocean, there will be no worries about water shortage.

Water is a good solvent. The ocean contains many inorganic salts necessary for life, such as sodium chloride, potassium chloride, carbonates, phosphates, and dissolved oxygen, from which primitive life can effortlessly absorb the elements it needs.

Water has a high heat capacity, and the ocean is vast. Despite being exposed to the scorching sun and swept by cold winds in winter, its temperature changes relatively little. Therefore, the huge ocean is like a natural "thermator". It is a breeding ground for primitive life.

Although sunlight is necessary for life, the ultraviolet rays in sunlight threaten to kill primitive life. Water can effectively attract ultraviolet rays, thus providing a natural "barrier" for primitive life.

All of these are necessary conditions for the emergence and development of primitive life.

——Excerpt from "Ocean and Life" by Tong Shangliang

Work No. 14

When I was in elementary school, my grandmother passed away. My grandmother loved me the most when she was alive. I couldn't get rid of my sadness. I ran around and around in the school playground every day. When I was tired, I fell to the ground and threw myself on the lawn and cried bitterly.

The days of mourning lasted intermittently for a long time, and my parents didn’t know how to comfort me. They knew it was better to tell me the truth than to tell me that my grandmother was asleep: she would never come back.

"What is never coming back?" I asked.

"All things in time will never come back. When your yesterday passes, it will always become yesterday. You can't go back to yesterday. Dad was as young as you before, and he is now You can't go back to your childhood; one day you will grow up and you will be as old as your grandmother; one day you will spend your time and never come back," Dad said.

Dad gave me a riddle. This riddle is better than "The calendar is hung on the wall, and a page is torn off every day, which makes me anxious" and "An inch of time is worth an inch of gold. An inch of gold cannot buy an inch of time." "It also makes me feel terrible; it also makes me feel an indescribable feeling compared to the words "time flies like an arrow and the sun and the moon fly by" in the text.

Time flies so fast that my little eyes are not just anxious, but sad. One day I came home from school and saw that the sun was about to set, so I made up my mind and said, "I will go home faster than the sun." I ran back and stood in front of the courtyard to catch my breath, and saw that half of the sun was still exposed. Face, I jumped up with joy, that day I outran the sun. From then on, I often played games like that. Sometimes I raced against the sun, sometimes against the northwest wind. Sometimes I finished homework that took one summer vacation, but I finished it in ten days. At that time, I was in third grade, and I often compared my brother’s fifth grade homework to Use it. Every time a competition beats time, I feel so happy that I don’t know how to describe it.

If I have anything to teach my children in the future, I will tell them: If you race against time during the holidays, you can succeed!

——Excerpt from "Race Against Time" by Lin Qingxuan (Taiwan)

Work No. 15

In the early 1930s, Hu Shi was a professor at Peking University. During lectures, he often praised vernacular Chinese, which caused dissatisfaction among some students who only liked classical Chinese but not vernacular Chinese.

Once, when Hu Shi was speaking proudly, a student named Wei suddenly stood up and asked angrily: "Mr. Hu, is it true that there are no shortcomings in vernacular writing?" Hu Shi replied with a smile. He said: "No." The student became even more excited: "There must be! There is a lot of nonsense in vernacular, and there are many words in telegrams and a lot of money." Hu Shi's eyes suddenly brightened. He explained softly: "Not necessarily! A few days ago, a friend called me and asked me to work in a government department. I decided not to go, so I called back and refused. The reply was written in vernacular, and it seemed that It's very word-saving. Please write a reply in classical Chinese according to what I mean, and see if the space is in vernacular Chinese or in classical Chinese." As soon as Professor Hu finished speaking, the students started writing seriously.

After fifteen minutes, Hu Shi asked his classmates to raise their hands and report the number of words used, and then selected a telegram in classical Chinese with the fewest words. The telegram was written like this:

"If you have little talent and little knowledge, you may not be able to do the job and you may not be able to obey your orders." The vernacular meaning is: If you are not very knowledgeable, you may not be able to take on the job and you will not be able to obey the arrangements.

Hu Shi said that this article was really well written, using only twelve words. But my telegram in vernacular only used five words:

"Can't do it, thank you!"

Hu Shi further explained: "Can't do it" means that he has limited talent and knowledge, and may be incompetent. means; "Thank you" not only expresses gratitude for the introduction of a friend, but also means rejection. Therefore, whether there is a lot of nonsense does not depend on whether it is classical Chinese or vernacular. As long as you pay attention to the choice of words, vernacular can be more word-saving than classical Chinese.

——Excerpt from "Hu Shi's Vernacular Telegrams" in "Practical Intermediate Chinese Course" (Part 1) edited by Chen Zhuo

Work No. 16

A long time ago, On a dark autumn night, I was rafting on an eerie river in Siberia. When the boat reached a turning point, I saw a sudden flash of fire under the dark mountain peaks in front of me.

The fire was bright and bright, as if it was right in front of me...

"Okay, thank God!" I said happily, "We will be at the place where we will spend the night soon!"

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The boatman turned his head and glanced at the firelight behind him, then paddled disapprovingly.

"It's far away!"

I didn't believe what he said, because the fire broke through the hazy night and was clearly flickering there. But the boatman was right. In fact, the fire was still far away.

The characteristics of these firelights in the dark night are: dispelling the darkness, shining brightly, being close to the eyes, and fascinating. At first glance, it looks like we’ll be there in a few more strokes…but it’s actually still far away! ...

We rowed on the pitch-black river for a long time. One after another, canyons and cliffs come towards you, and then move back, as if disappearing into the vast distance, but the firelight still stops in front, shining brightly and fascinating - still so close, yet still so far ...

Now, whether it is the dark river shrouded in the shadow of the cliffs or the bright fire, they often appear in my mind. Before and after this, There were many fires that seemed very close, which fascinated me and more than just me. But the river of life still flows between those gloomy banks, and the fire is still very far away.

Therefore, we must paddle harder...

However, the fire...after all...is just ahead!

——Excerpt from "Fire" by Korolenko (Russia), translated by Zhang Tiefu