Son, every time I think about it, I'm sorry. The stupidity and meanness of human beings have plunged them into a tragic fate. So, on this earth full of nuclear terror, what have we prepared for the newborn baby? Not a gold lock, not champagne, but a million tons of TNT nuclear energy per person. Son, when you look at the world with complete trust, can you see those cruel weapons hanging in your little cradle? And your parents' big bed? -Zhang Xiaofeng's The First Snow
Sitting on the root of the tree, I was shocked to see the branches of the pillow moon cloud. Suddenly, a drop of water hit my head like a stick. Is there a dew tray that Emperor Wu likes in that sub-room?
Really, I asked myself, why did I come to see Shenmu? In terms of livelihood, Shenmu is certainly inferior to guava and rice and wheat.
We want rice, wheat and guava, but to our surprise, we really want one or more Shenmu trees.
We need an image to describe ourselves, and we need a myth to tell ourselves: sincere affection that will remain unchanged for thousands of years, calmness and pride after reading the wind and frost. ...
The tree is here. The mountain is here. The earth is here. Time is up. I am here. What kind of better world do you want-Zhang Xiaofeng has joined.
Now, as the sun rises, the fog gradually dissipates. vilen looks soft and green, which makes me feel that even if I accidentally fall from this mountain, I won't scratch a piece of skin. If I am bounced twice at most, I will get a green that can't be washed out by a sock. And the river around the foot of the mountain is also green. It is another kind of green, bright, as if mixed with oil. As for the mountain, it's still green, but it's just a bunch of dark green, which makes people feel that no matter where you start, you can't open a crack. People think that even if you dig it down two floors, its green color will not fade. In addition, my screen window is also green, very light green, really as ethereal as the gauze skirt of ancient beauty under the sunlight. You think, how can I write to you on such a green morning without being full of vibrant green? -Zhang Xiaofeng's "Green Letter"
As for the name of spring, there must have been such a story: before the Book of Songs, before the Historical Records and before the characterization of Cang Xie, a lamb suddenly felt sweaty while eating grass, a child suddenly felt soaring while flying a kite, a pair of legs suffering from wind pain suddenly felt comfortable, and Qian Qian's hand was playing with sand by the pond. -Zhang Xiaofeng's Nostalgia in Spring.
At that time, I was in Nanjing, and I just started to remember some fragmentary things. There are always beautiful villages in this painting. I quietly walked away from the adults and sat alone on the grass. The leaves of the phoenix tree began to fall, and many mysterious aesthetic feelings fell into my heart. I was lost at once, and my little heart could hardly bear the excitement. I just picked up a fallen leaf in confusion. The leaves are yellow-brown and curved, like a boat carrying dreams. There are two beautiful phoenix trees beside the boat, which will last for a long time. Every time there is a gust of wind, I shuttle through the rain of fallen leaves and pick up the plane trees all over the ground. There must be one or two buttonwood trees that I didn't pick up sprouting on the grass, right? Twenty years later, I seem to hear the distant west wind and the rustling of leaves in the wind. I can also see those boats carrying dreams, sailing on the grassland, sailing in the hope of a seed. -Autumn in Zhang Xiaofeng
I like to see the reeds all over the mountain, and the sad white in the autumn wind. On the hillside, by the water, the beauty is so bleak. At that time, Liu told me that he got a poem in his dream: "The misty trees and reeds are all white." The artistic conception is beautiful, but it is plain and awkward. I want to make a quatrain, but I am reluctant to change it. I want to contact the ancient style, but I can't sing more sentences. So far, it's just a poem, a beautiful and isolated artistic conception.
I also like dreams, and I like the strange enjoyment in dreams. I always dream that I can fly over mountains and rivers. I always dream of strange colors and pleasant images. I dreamed of brown horses with shining manes flying in the wind. I dreamed that flocks of wild geese were resting on the beach grass. I dreamed of the lotus sea, which was completely boundless and far away, showing a vague scarlet color-all of which I had never seen before. I can't forget the dream of watching the sunrise in front of a purple mountain-it must not be purple, but emerald green against the rising red sun in Ran Ran, so I invented such a strange mountain scene in my dream. -Zhang Xiaofeng "I like it"
The beauty of a flower lies in its poverty and diversity. Sometimes, the flowers are torn down overnight, and sometimes, in half a morning, the flowers become fat. The beauty of flowers lies not in their color and fragrance, but in their strangeness. I like to sit carefully and open the epiphyllum. In fact, epiphyllum is not a beautiful flower. Its beauty lies in the desert association of its cactus life experience and the mourning it brings to people. But the disassembly and release of epiphyllum is a three-dimensional beauty, like a love story. Beauty lies in the process, not in the ending. There is a big yellow epiphyllum called "the queen of the night". Every time you shake it, it makes a splash, like the sound of an embroidery needle after embroidery is tightened. All the delicate silk threads suddenly shake, which often makes people afraid to look at it again-after watching it for a long time, they can't help but believe the statement of exquisite flowers. -Zhang Xiaofeng's "Opening Flowers"