Appreciation of Su Shi's Song Ci

Su Shi's dream on the twentieth night of the first month in Jiangchengzi, Mao Yi

Ten years of life and death are two boundless. Never think, never forget. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about. Even if we don't know each other, our faces are dusty and our temples are frosty.

When night came, my dream suddenly came home. Xiao Xuan window, get dressed. Care for each other without words, only a thousand lines of tears, it is expected that heartbroken every year, on the moonlit night, short pine hills.

-Su Shi's "Jiangchengzi"

The misty rain is sad, and in a blink of an eye, it is the grave-sweeping season before the Spring Festival. I should have gone there a few days later, but I don't know who created a new "clause" not to sweep graves after beginning of spring. Tomorrow will be beginning of spring. Grave-sweepers before the Spring Festival have squeezed their time into today before beginning of spring. Although it was snowing, it did not stop people who came to mourn. The cemetery, which was unusually quiet, is crowded with people today.

Under the fairly clear blue sky, there is a strong wind blowing in the twelfth month, the lazy sun is covered with thin clouds, and soft snowflakes are flying. I am here. I'm afraid your lonely soul will be eroded by cold snow and ice. I'm afraid your wandering soul is still floating around. I was even more afraid that you couldn't find your way back, so I came through the snow. Behind me, I left a series of clearly visible footprints with different shades. Here I am, bringing a bunch of flowers composed of Huang Ju, Lily and forget-me-not, and a eulogy written for you, plus a lonely heart that has been honed over the years but can't forget all the joys and sorrows of the past. In this simple way, when another spring comes, pay homage to your lonely soul!

People must go, and fate is here. The morning ten years ago was a permanent freeze in my life and the end of my memory. So, I quietly collected the bits and pieces that were once full of love and warmth. Because, you left forever. In the past years, your life suddenly withered in an instant, leaving me only your struggling eyes and your hands that gradually lost their temperature at the end of your life. ...

Since then, you have become an empty grave, living here alone, and your voice and voice are hard to hear! The white snow reflects your tombstone. Under the cold tombstone, your stubborn soul is buried, and your eternal name is portrayed on the dark marble. Your life is so short, but it has left a clear impression on mine forever.

Spring and autumn snap fingers, Xue Mei hangs frost. "Ten years of life and death, I don't think about it, I will never forget it." Ten years, what is the distance across time and space? What are the unforgettable ideas? "Even if you don't know each other, you are covered with dust and your temples are like frost." Even if we meet, we are separated by Yin and Yang, wandering in our dreams. The once familiar voice and smile have long been stripped to pieces by the gears of time. After you left, I dare not open the floodgate of memory again, for fear of touching the deepest hidden pain in my heart. How many times I woke up, the notes I wanted to forget echoed in my ears over and over again, relaxed and clear. I want to forget, but I can't forget anything.

Ten years in the spring and autumn, it passed in a blink of an eye. There is no frost on my sideburns, but you are still lying in this lonely grave. Oh! Long time no see, I can still feel my childhood life. Once majestic and tall, they were all buried underground. However, the voice is still in front of us, and the words are still in our ears. Born to be English, died to be spiritual. Today, the people of Sri Lanka have gone, with thorns and strong winds. Feel sorry for the past, sad sad!

Ten years life and death, ten years life and death. For those who have passed away, there may be no memory. But for those who live in the world and are full of thoughts, they really feel the pain of lovesickness. When I face you again today, my eyes are full of tears. All I can sing is Su Shi's "Jiangchengzi": "Ten years of life and death are two boundless. Never think, never forget. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about. Even if meet should be strangers, travel-stained, temples such as frost ... "

Cold light is lazy, accompanied by cold wind. The distance is vast, and occasionally lonely birds fly sadly. I clearly know that the end of life is the hometown of death. "A lonely grave thousands of miles away is nowhere to be sad." Your grave clearly shed tears, but it made me lose my soul in the bitter thinking of "lovesickness"; In July and a half, the grass on your grave is sad, covering up my long-standing hatred that "we secretly told each other in the quiet midnight world"; Before spring came, the thick snow on your grave covered my lonely heart "and then he disappeared around the corner"! Your silent lonely grave! Do you know that the thoughts of the four seasons of this year are all in the endless years when spring has gone and spring has come, and bloom has thanked again, and it is also in the sadness where there is nowhere to talk. ...

Time is like a song, time tears blood. Unconsciously, ten years have passed. How many times have I wanted to write something for you in more than 3,000 days full of thoughts? But I don't know why there are always so many things stuck in my throat that I can't write. For ten years, I have been silent about solitary burial, but there are only 1000 tears. In the confusion of the past and present, I saw a tear that can be preserved for thousands of years. With a dead paragraph of love, with the sadness of "ten years of life and death" to sigh, a word is all in a faint emotional description.

It's another full moon night, with no bottom in the night. I floated out of the gate of hell, across the desolate wilderness, across the rustling river, across the Qian Shan, and back to the real world. The cold wind outside twisted my thoughts into ropes and whipped my broken soul. My endless thoughts are painted into many endless thoughts without hierarchy. ...

Like this star is not last night, who stands in the cloud for the wind and dew?