Dialogue with ancestors

Every year in the soul-destroying March, although there is mud under my feet, thorns in front and grass in front, I still make a mess and scratch all over. As usual, I went to have the closest contact with my ancestors.

I leaned down, listening to my ancestors, listening to the footsteps from ancient times, listening to their shallow songs facing the bright moon. I can't recognize their faces, and I can't understand the sadness and pain of their exile, the prosperity and decline of their existence. I just wonder if my ancestors worshipped their ancestors hundreds of years ago as I did.

No matter whether their status is noble or not, what I care about and must understand is that they are my ancestors, ancestors connected with my blood, which is enough. And these, only tombstones deeply rooted in loess, can give me a best witness.

Here, perhaps Mr. Chen Yinque's "Recalling the Former Residence" is the best interpretation:

The bell rang in the distance, and the shadows of the trees were covered by thousands of crows.

Life is full of anger, and no one in the world is interested in sunset.

Break the mountains and rivers to win, and send desolation for the rest of the year.

When you dreamed of Songmen Songju, you recognized other places as your hometown.

Nostalgia pervades the thick lines of poetry, which makes people feel at a loss in a foreign land!

Looking back, I can't help feeling a little sad. In a few decades, maybe I will have the same fate as my ancestors!

Presumably, only that cold tombstone, isolated from the wind and rain, can tell my past? ……

Text: Qingming Mountain

Figure: From the network

March 4, 1965 438+09

In congjiang county, Guizhou.