Traditional Culture Encyclopedia - Hotel accommodation - The Main Contents of Wang Dingjun in Spring Festival

The Main Contents of Wang Dingjun in Spring Festival

Summary and brief comment: the article links the snow scene in my hometown with the snowfall abroad; The snow scene in front of us produces all kinds of associations; Use the growing points of trees in the snow to illustrate the theme. Snow covers the earth and everything, but it sets off the vitality and vitality of trees. With the longing for spring, the tree persisted, grew new leaves in the cold to welcome spring, and finally looked back with the winner's attitude, "telling the story of snow", full of pride. It has the meaning of holding things and expressing ideas. "Tree" is also a symbol of people (vagrants) in foreign countries. They always cherish their love for their homeland, stick to their own pursuits and beliefs, face the flying snow of the years, greet the "spring of life" with persistence and struggle, and naturally tell the past with relief and relief. ? This is a lyric pen.

2. Attachment: Spring Festival

Dingjun Wang

After Thanksgiving and before Christmas, there is always snow in the east of natural beauty. In advance, the northwest wind came to clear the way, packed up thousands of trees and yellow leaves, shook off the coats of thousands of families from their suitcases, repaired the heating boilers in the apartments for the elderly, put snow tires on the cars, and disrupted the worries of the wanderers in a foreign land, injecting them with worries about winter. ?

I haven't seen the snow scene on the flat land for more than 30 years. When the heavy snow came, I was excited in the melancholy, and the excitement finally overwhelmed the melancholy. The first snow I saw after that was not big, and the ground was as shallow as powder, just enough to print people's footprints on the stone road. The second snow was spectacular. Snowflakes hung outside the window like curtains, and they were not removed for a day and a night. In the night, the inverted shadow of the snow curtain shoots into the glass window and jumps on the indoor wall, making the "American Bilingual Teaching Map" stand out from the wall. If I were twenty years old, I would like to sit here by the window and look at the girl's red lips from the soft and mysterious twilight. But I am 55 years old, and I have recovered from sleepwalking without taking medicine. There is nothing in the room except a wisp of poetic soul looming and drifting away. ?

The next day, I got up and looked at the snow. No, this is a static earth, a static world. Look at Snow God's new map of the world and see how it simplifies all lines and covers all colors. From here to the horizon, I wonder how far Wan Li is. Far east and far west, only the snow flies and the smoke is boundless. In my hometown, people say that snow is a quilt that God gave to wheat. Here, snow is simply a new uniform sewn by God for the earth. Heaven and earth are connected and boundless. I remember flying in the clouds when I came to the United States, remembering that the clouds were like newly ploughed spring fields, and remembering that the sky was under my feet. I am sure it was Wan Li snow. Looking at the snow in the high-rise apartment now, I suspect that it is all clouds. I am floating in space, and the space is boundless. If I slip, I will land forever. I will land, land, land, and all the atoms and molecules will be scattered in the air.

But there is an iron tower in my field of vision, a lonely iron tower, an indomitable iron tower, covered with hard ice, whistling in the breeze and standing tall. Snow can only color it, but it cannot erase its shape. Such construction must be built on a solid foundation and firmly grasp the earth. It seems to be a token erected on the earth, vowing that everything in the world is not just ice and snow, and claiming that there is something more real and eternal than snow.

The iron tower standing in the snow reminds me of a tree. A century-old tree. Legend has it that there is such a tree that stands outside a hotel in the heavy snow. Pedestrians walking under it can smell the wine and won't freeze to death. We used to desperately look for this tree, me and those friends who bent down in the snow. It was in Qian Shan, another world of ice and snow. It is also a mighty snow, chaotic snow, no direction, no distance, we have been walking. We are all cold, and we are surprised that we can keep going, just for a legend: if we stand still, we will become icicles. A messy line of footprints was immediately covered by the wind, as if we didn't move at all, just marking time, no matter how deep the footprints were. If we fall, we will disappear, no matter how big our torso is. If we stand still and freeze, it's the same, no matter how high the icicles become flesh and blood. However, it is said that that century-old tree will never be buried by snow, and so will that hotel, which will always smell of wine. We have been walking, looking for the sweetness of wine.

It snowed several times, and in March, the wind changed from a sharp knife to a soft paper to wipe the face. At the end of persecution, the tree shows the appearance of being victimized, struggling upwards, thinning its branches and turning red in green. This is the message of life. In the dense forest on the horizon, the trees are shouting with their own voices. Spring trees are green every year, which is common, but the momentum makes me feel that it is enough to cause an accident at any time. There are birds at the top of the forest, all kinds. Birds are the mouthpiece of trees. They got up at dawn and read the declaration of the new generation. Day after day.

Day after day, until the branches bear small buds, red and bulging, such as new wintersweet, which is still covered with a layer of wax. At this time, the meteorological observatory kept warning that it would snow, but the buds grew bigger desperately. The last snow of this year really snowed. It is still fierce, but it can't break the small fortress sealed by wax. Leaves grow in infancy, waiting, tightly rolled into a ball. Then one day, in the bright sun, the wax coat suddenly burst open and the young leaves scattered. In a blink of an eye, the spring is suddenly leaking and new leaves are everywhere.

I stayed under the tree for a long time. These trees are so impatient! How brave! Spring hasn't come yet, stick out your head to meet it first, and strive to grow a shade before midsummer. Then, let the tree tell the story of snow. ?