Ask for Chinese composition 1. West Lake in July and a half II. The philosopher of Emperor Chen III. Zhang ailing talks about music 4. Dreiser's My Dream City 5. The world is saying new words.

Zhang Dai

In July and a half, there is nothing to see in the West Lake, only people can be seen in July and a half. People who watch July 30 can be divided into five categories. First, there are gongs and drums in the building, crows feast, excellent lights and sound and light. Those who look at the moon but don't actually see it, look at it. First, the boat is on the floor, too. The famous baby is very cultured, holding the child around, laughing and crying, sitting around the terrace, looking around, looking at the moon but not actually looking. First, boats sing, and famous prostitutes are idle monks, singing lightly, lightly and lightly. They also look at the moon under the moon, and so do people who want to see it. First, there is no boat, no car, no shirt, no clothes, full of food, called three or five groups, jumped into the crowd, celebrated, broke the bridge, made a noise, pretended to be drunk, sang a tune without a cavity, looked at the moon, looked at the moon, looked at the moon, didn't look, but looked. First, the boat is light, the heater is clean, the teapot is boiled, the plain porcelain is quietly handed over, and the moon is invited to sit with you, or hiding under the tree, or hiding in the lake, and people don't care if they see it.

Hangzhou people swim across the lake and have returned to their hometown, avoiding the moon as an enemy. This is a good name for tonight, and they are fighting for it. The door army spent more money on drinks, and the bearers burned paper and listed on the shore. As soon as he got on the boat, it broke the bridge and rushed into the victory meeting. So before the second drum, people preached, such as boiling, shaking, whistling, deaf and dumb. The boat and the boat went ashore together, and saw nothing but poles hitting poles. The boat bumped into the boat, rubbed its shoulders and wiped its back, and looked at the water. After the ceremony, the official banquet was over, thieves shouted to catch thieves, bearers called people aboard, even the doors were closed, lanterns and torches were like stars, and they flocked away. People on the shore also rushed to the door one by one, gradually thinning out and disappearing in an instant.

We started boating on the shore, and the stone ridge of the broken bridge began to get cold, so we sat on it and called the guests to drink. At this time, the bright moon is like a mirror, the mountains and rivers are renovated and the lakes are restored. Those who whisper to it should go out, and those who hide in the shade should also go out. Let's have a chat. Let's have a chat. Rhyme friends come, famous prostitutes come, cups are safe, and bamboo hair is made. The moonlight is desolate, the east will be white, and the guests will be scattered. We went boating and slept soundly among ten miles of lotus flowers. The fragrance was amazing and the dream was very pleasant.

Philosopher emperor

the Chen Dynasty

I have been working here for half a month. It's not like work. It's like going back to the life of a soldier. If you can find such a stressful job in China, it's only in the army. Some of my colleagues have just returned from the Korean army, and some are students of the University of California. I asked them, are jobs in America so tense? They all said in unison, "This is probably the lightest place."

If you don't stay inside, it may be hard to say. Once you push the grass in the sun for eight hours, or draw a wall in the light rain for eight hours, after going down the mountain, you only feel that this person has collapsed, which is more tired than marching for eight hours.

Today, after work, it was near dusk. I sat by the lake and dreamed of the distant sky. This environment is picturesque. When the master created things, he painted this "Taiping Lake" in blue. The first lake was painted light blue; The second pen added some colors and drew green hills with dark blue; The third pen subtracts some colors and draws the sky with light blue. In the quiet picture of Sanbi, there is a half-lying animal, exhausted after work. I think the whole American landscape figure painting can be represented by this.

Although the scenery in front of me is so quiet and beautiful, my mind is still the shadow of my colleagues' nervous faces and fast pace on this day. My pulse still seems to beat faster. I came to a conclusion in my sleepy head: "With such efforts, this country will be strong."

Middle school students send milk and newspapers; College students are used to working as coolies and coolies. These jobs have become a part of education. This kind of education makes every student know what life is and what life is involuntarily. So American children are always independent, brave and self-respecting, like philosophers and emperors.

The Greek philosopher figured out a way to train the emperor. This way is to let him "stand up from the harsh reality, drop sweat from his arrogant eyebrows, and earn his own food and clothing." This is a necessary training for being an emperor, but unfortunately this ideal has never been realized in Europe. Unexpectedly, in the new world, this sentence is actually practiced invisibly. Every young man is invisibly cultivated by such an emperor.

After doing humble work and building arrogant self-esteem have become a trend, extraordinary phenomena are sometimes unbelievable. There was a student at Yale University whose father inherited $300,000, and he refused to accept it. He said, "I have two hands and a head, which is enough." The newspaper said, "My father is a successful entrepreneur, and my son has really inherited his father's spirit."

Young people start from themselves, bear the burden of life and enjoy the happiness of life. The idol of young people is not an all-powerful bleeding family, but an industrious and self-reliant entrepreneur. Franklin's autobiography is regarded as a standard by everyone, that is, a standard watch, an ancient astronomical instrument in China. Here is a metaphor for norms or laws. Classic.

We listened to their songs, and they all sounded like steel:

-Life is a battlefield for struggle.

There are blood drops and flames everywhere.

Don't be slaughtered cattle and sheep.

In the battle, you should be refreshed and have a high pace.

-Longfaro

I admire those young people whose cheeks are red in the green earth and golden sunshine.

However, after a long meditation by the lake, I always feel that something is missing from this picture of American youth. What is this? I can't point it out completely. Maybe it's humanistic accomplishment. My impression after three or four months here can be said: American students seldom read newspapers. It is inconceivable to send newspapers instead of reading them.

The philosopher emperor not only has to endure hardships, but also has a kind of temper, which makes him have grand ambitions and far-sighted vision. Unfortunately, American education ignores this point too much. The degree of neglect is regrettable.

Einstein said, "Isn't an expert a trained dog?" This statement is not accidental. Many experts are ignorant dogs. This phenomenon will stifle a culture.

Democracy is not "a group of donkeys who can vote"; Democracy really needs to train the people of the whole country as "philosophers and emperors". In the cultivation of philosophers and emperors, the part that American education and society give young people hard work, self-reliance and experience life is enough; But in the cultivation of humanities, it is too bad.

When the evening breeze strikes, the lake is as clear as a mirror, the green hills are as quiet as poetry, and my thoughts are gradually clear and quiet.

It's dark, and the stars are on one by one.

Pinghu, new york1July 2, 955

Talking about music

I don't like music very much. All music is sad. Even the so-called "light music" jumps like floating on the surface, which is a bit fake.

The violin is a sad instrument.

I'm most afraid of Van Alin, who flows away like water, leaving everything I hold on to in my life. Huqin is much better, though desolate. When she arrived, she always looked like a northerner "the words are back", and she still traveled long distances to return to the world.

What comes out of Alin is always a "unique tune", and the ileum turns nine times, which is too obvious, making people want to cry, and it is the sorrow in the instrument.

I hate Alin playing the piano. Very scattered, very restless, it is difficult to blend in. The result is like a cooperative painting by China people, which depicts a beautiful woman, another full of flowers, and another background full of pavilions, often without emotional appeal.

Symphony is like the May 4th Movement.

Large symphonies are naturally different. It was the mighty May 4th Movement that rushed in and changed everyone's voice.

Symphony often has this problem: there are too many metrical elements. Why do you do this every once in a while? The band suddenly became nervous, gnashed their teeth and entered the final stage of the decisive battle. They rallied and drummed again, determined to destroy the audience, but the audience just silently resisted. They are all gentlemen, with high musical accomplishment, and have participated in numerous concerts. According to past experience, they know that music will end.

I come from China, and I like making noise. China beat gongs and drums without asking why. I can tolerate more noise, but the offensive of the symphony is slow, it takes a lot of time to arrange grand piano for Van Alin one by one, and I have to look for an ambush everywhere, so I am afraid of such a planned plot.

classical music

My favorite classical musician is not the romantic Beethoven or Chopin, but the earlier Bach. Bach's music is neither as exquisite as a palace nor as heroic as a temple. Although the world inside is complicated, it is handy. In the cabin, the wall clock on the wall ticks and swings; Drink goat's milk in a wooden bowl; A woman with a skirt asked for her respect; There are thoughtful cattle and sheep and thoughtless white clouds on the green grassland; Heavy joy sounded as loud as a golden wedding bell. As Browning said in his poem:

God is in his heaven, and everything is fine in the world.

opera

The things in this opera are very expensive, and they stop at expensive. Most of the stories in the opera are childish. For example, the primitive feeling of jealousy is the simplest jealousy in traditional Chinese opera. On the one hand, they express luxuriously by amplifying it with the most complicated and civilized music, which is more difficult because of disharmony. I hate that kind of grand enthusiasm, that kind of hero who beats his chest. But there are also great times-the singer's golden voice rises calmly under high-pressure music, and various musical instruments are awe-inspiring; People suddenly stand up straight in the storm of life. It turned out that he was very tall, and his eyes and songs sparkled under the stars. I don't know that he usually crawls on the ground until he stands up.

jazz

Generally, listening to jazz will make people feel groggy, such as getting up too late, the sun is yellow, I don't know when, I have no strength, no appetite and no brain. Significant swing rhythm, just like kicking, is very comfortable.

pop music

In the pop music scene in China, I think drum writing is too angry. A famous hand runs through a long sentence in one breath, his face is not red and his muscles are not explosive. The audience especially wants to see that his face is not red and his muscles are not bursting. "The West Chamber" has made great efforts to describe Yingying's longing for spring, and always feels that Jing Youzi is a loquacious girl.

China's pop songs, once upon a time, because everyone has a "little sister" madness, the singers all turned their voices high and flat, and "taohuajiang" in the radio amplifier only sounded like "price, price, price, price ..." Foreigners often ask China women how their voices are like this. It's much better now, but China's pop songs still have no foundation, as if they decided to have new songs in the new era and were forced out. So whenever I hear one or two melodious melodies like roses, I can't help but wonder if they come from.

Western countries or Japan copied this book.

My dream city

It is silent, and my dream city is cold and solemn, probably because I actually know nothing about the masses, the poor and the regrettable storms that blow the road of life like dust. This is a shocking city, so bold, so beautiful, so dead. There are transnational high-altitude railway tracks, streets like canyons, large stairs to climb cities in Wei Zhuang and Guang Guang, and tower roads leading to the depths, but all these are strangely silent in the lower bound. There are parks, flowers and rivers. Twenty years later, it was here, almost as shocking as my dream, but when I woke up, it was covered with the turmoil of life. It has the roar of competition, dreams, passion, joy, terror, disappointment and so on. Passing through the roads, canyons, squares and tunnels, I am running, boiling, flashing and hazy, and there are many things that my dream city doesn't know.

I once saw a poor, absent-minded and wrinkled little tailor who lived in a plywood room in the corner of a sublet house on a cold street and cooked with a kerosene stove on the cupboard. Around that room, she has enough room to walk three steps greatly.

"I would rather live in a plywood room like new york than a house with fifteen rooms in the country." She once said such a thing. At that time, her poor little colorless eyes contained brilliance and vitality that I had never seen or seen in her. She supplements her sewing income in a way, that is, to find luck in things like cards, tea leaves and coffee grounds for those who are generally inferior to herself, and to tell many people that they are going to fall in love and have money, but in fact, these two things will never be seen by them. It turned out that just showing her the color, sound and brilliance of that city was enough to make up for all her misfortunes.

I've never felt like showing off myself? Can't you feel it now? On these consecutive nights, the city is crowded with tourists from the west. All the shops are open, and the windows of almost all hotels are big enough for passers-by who have nothing to do to visit. This is a big city, drunk and dreaming. The moon in May or June will be as high as a polished silver plate hanging between high walls. A hundred or even a thousand electric signs will flash there. The tide of citizens and tourists wearing summer clothes and beautiful hats; A tram carrying endless goods oscillates to complete its insignificant mission; Taxis and private cars fly around like flies with jewels. Even the rolling stone forest has contributed a special fragrance. Life is bubbling and glowing; Good talk, loose material. Broadway is like this.

I often think of a large number of lower classes, boys and girls, who have nothing to recommend except their youth and ambition. Every day, they turn their faces to new york to see what wealth or reputation this city can give them, either their future status and comfort or whatever they will get. Ah, their young eyes are intoxicated with its hope! So, I thought that all the powerful and semi-powerful men and women in the world are working hard in one way or another outside new york-a shop, a mine, a bank, a career-and their only ambition is to reach a position where they can rely on their own wealth to enter and stay in new york, dominate large and medium-sized enterprises, and enjoy luxury in places they think are luxury.

Think about the illusion here. What a profound and touching hypnosis! The strong and the weak, the wise and the foolish, the greedy with the heart and the greedy with the eyes, all look for a girl without sadness and ecstasy soup from that huge thing. Whenever I see that people seem willing to pay any price-such a price-to ask for a taste of this poisonous wine, I am always very surprised. What stinging and trembling enthusiasm they showed. In any case, beauty is willing to sell its flowers, virtue sells its last fragments, strength sells a part that is close to high interest within its control, fame and power sell their dignity and existence, and old age sells his tired time, in order to get only a small part of all this, in order to enjoy its trembling existence and the picture it creates. Can you hardly hear them sing hymns?

Shi Shuo Xin Yu:

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