I am urgently looking for ten essays by Xi Murong.

The Dream of a River

I have been growing up in an environment of being pampered and protected. My parents worked hard to keep the war and displacement out of the door, and tried their best to give me a warm childhood, so that I could happily read, draw, and do everything I loved. Even at my

wedding, my father came specially and personally took me through the long red carpet in the old church in Brussels and handed me over

husband. And he also understood my father's heart, so he took over the responsibility of continuing to love and protect me.

It was a May day, and the trees outside the church were full of flowers. He gave me a handful of fragrant, soft and quaint freesias. I will never forget them

.

Therefore, my poem is about understanding an unsolvable mystery between our friends. Someone said: How could you write such a poem? Or: How could you write a poem like this? Some good friends even said, "How can you write such a poem?"

Why not? I have always believed that there should be such a kind of love in the world: absolute tolerance, absolute sincerity, absolute no resentment, and absolute beauty. If I can enjoy such love, then let my poetry be its proof. If you really can't find such love in the world, then let it exist in my poems and my heart forever.

So, I have never liked to explain anything about writing poetry. I just feel that if I have a chaotic and tiring day

at night, I would like to sit down quietly and write something new or read through what I have written before

< p>, with a few records and a few pieces of manuscript paper, you can spend a very comfortable night. The night in the countryside is humid and warm, and osmanthus

and jasmine bloom on the porch regardless of the season. I will never forget that moment.

If painting, which I officially entered the art department at the age of fourteen, is a kind of work that I have devoted myself to throughout my life, then

I have been writing in my diary since I was thirteen. I started writing poetry as a way to escape. I love both very much. However, for the former, I have always actively pursued it, passionately and seriously exploring a higher and deeper realm. For the latter, I have never made any deliberate efforts. I just waited quietly, under the lamp, in the fragrant night, waiting for it to come. In my heart.

Therefore, these poems have always been written for myself, and it is because of them that I see myself. Knowing that you are

at the most beautiful moment in your life, all the complicated petals are unfolding layer by layer, and all the flowers are as sweet as honey and as astringent as yellow

Feelings are interwoven into my being. The years flow quietly like a twisting and shining river. Tonight, I am deeply saddened by the me who was twenty years ago. And when I look back twenty years from now, I will definitely be heartbroken by the me at this moment. And heartbroken.

My Mongolian name is Mulun, which means big river. I like this name very much. If all time

is really like a river, then let The poems of these years have become the dream of a river.

Thanks to all my friends who made it possible for my poems to be published in a book. Please accept my sincerest thanks. And Xiaofeng was still willing to write the preface for me under such a busy situation. After such a deep conversation late at night, I had more than respect for her.

Written in the rainy Shimen countryside in June 1981

Xi Murong

A rich garden

I had a dream .

In the dream, I stood alone at the bus stop on the corner, waiting for the bus

It seemed that many buses had passed, but I couldn't get on. , the night is very late, and I am getting more and more anxious.

However, every time a car drives over, I always hesitate, not knowing whether I should get on or not. In those carriages passing by, there are either too bright lights or too many people. They look weird and noisy in the deep night, and they are never like the one I expected.

Actually, I don’t seem to know exactly what I am looking forward to? I just vaguely feel that there should be a better choice, a better road, a better atmosphere, and there should be someone I am willing to meet in the next car.

The cars passed by one after another, and I kept standing on the street corner. At midnight, the last bus with a red light came. I finally jumped on it, only to find that there was no one in the car.

I had no choice but to sit alone at the end. Along the road, the street lights went out one by one. Looking back, I saw that the road was completely dark.

It was dark on the way here.

I woke up in the dark night, and the feeling of loneliness in my dream still gripped me tightly. My whole body seemed to be sunk in a cold and transparent world. What a desolate world it was. ah! After a lot of hesitation, he found that he had nothing left.

The sky outside the window was full of stars, the sounds of insects were everywhere, and the southern night was warm and fragrant. I woke up from my dream and decided not to go back to such a dream again.

In real life, I hope there will never be such a moment.

In real life, how many hesitant and critical people are there?

When a car drives over, we always hesitate. We don’t know whether we should get in. We don’t know if this is the car we’ve been waiting for. We don’t know if we will meet it after we get in. Will we meet it? I won't reach the end with him, or maybe I will separate halfway and watch him go away in despair.

We always hope that everything will be perfect, we always hope that all opportunities will appear at the same time, and we always hope that the whole road will be peaceful and sunny, with birds singing and flowers fragrant.

Unexpectedly, we who pursue perfection are ourselves imperfect, an extreme imperfection.

I have nothing against those who insist on their ideals. Some ideals are really worth sticking to for a lifetime, but life is not just that. On the long road of life, how many moments are worth staying at, and how many doors are worth testing and opening!

Unfortunately, from childhood to adulthood, we have been classified, both by others and ourselves. As a result of classification, we finally have to walk down a narrower road and enter an increasingly closed world. In the end, we are forced to separate from all the things we have liked or have not had time to like. Looking back, I saw that it was dark on the way here. It was only at that moment that I realized how lonely I was.

I have always believed that if you learn to draw just for fun, not to draw particularly well, if you learn to write, you are not necessarily anxious to become a family at a young age. Learned people are not necessarily eager to become authorities. If people around us are not so eager to classify us, if this society can allow us to grow freely and calmly, then how rich and beautiful life will be. ah!

Of course, we will still move forward. On the long road of life, we still have persistence and hope, guiding us with light and direction in the distant future. However, we can also See, on both sides of the road, how many doors are waiting for us to open them calmly, and how many misty paths behind the doors are waiting for us to explore calmly, on both sides of the road! What a rich and beautiful garden there is!

A few days ago, I drove with my friends on the Nanyang Highway to the east at night.

It was already dusk when we set off. I did not expect that the road would be so long, so far, and so bumpy. However, now that we are on the road, there is no room to look back.

The scenery on the road also made us reluctant to look back. We drove all the way up and when we reached the mountain with an altitude of more than 2,000 meters, it was completely dark.

The stars began to appear one by one. I was anxiously calculating in my mind, what day is today on the lunar calendar? Because, I thought, it would be great if there was a full moon!

However, that day happened to be a moonless day. I felt very disappointed and regretful, and my interest was no longer high.

The road became so long, so dark, and seemed to never end. We took turns driving. Finally, I was so sleepy that after handing the steering wheel to my friend, I curled up on the seat and fell asleep.

In a daze, I knew that the car had reached level ground, but it was going around the road again, crossing a bridge made of wooden planks, walking down a gravel-strewn river bed, and walking on a winding path. Finally stopped.

I think we have arrived. Some of my friends jumped out of the car to knock on the hotel door, and some came over to shake me awake. However, I was so sleepy that I simply lay down on the front seat, leaving everything to others to arrange.

We arrived too late. There was no light or sound in the hostel. The surroundings were extremely dark and quiet. Only the voice of a friend patiently called out:

"There is someone there." Are you there? Is anyone here?”

The car door was opened by my friends, and the cool mountain breeze carried the fragrance of grass and flowers. I couldn’t help but turn over and open my eyes to the sky. Open your eyes.

The sky is filled with twinkling stars!

The sky is filled with bright stars!

I have never seen so many, so dense, and so bright stars. In this high and clear eastern sky, glittering and translucent, hundreds of millions of stars are gathering together in groups in various shapes and luminosity, like sand, like rivers, like reliefs and like whirlpools, from Looking down at me from the high night sky.

At that moment, I fell madly in love with the starry sky.

In the past, I was only willing to go out for a walk on moonlit nights. It seemed that the watery moonlight was the only moment I cherished. I never knew that a sky full of stars could be so beautiful and charming.

There are so many unpredictable moments in life!

I finally understand that I don’t have to pursue that door that I have missed and only exists in my past memory. If I go forward, there are still many doors waiting for me. Go and open them one by one to see how many different surprises and hopes there should be in life.

"Review" certainly allows me to relive those watery moonlights. However, if I just insist on constantly "reviewing", I will eventually miss my tonight and the starry sky in this night.

It turns out that as long as I am willing, life can be such a rich and beautiful garden!

As long as I want it.

Excerpted from "Collected Poems of Xi Murong" /xmr/

Transparent Sorrow

Standing on the suspension bridge between the canyons, standing in the light of the full moon, we I called you to come over and see the moon hanging high in the sky, but you refused with a smile.

Leaning on the other end of the suspension bridge, in the darkness of the mountain wall, you said:

"I can see you from here, because you contain the moonlight. ”

The mountain breeze was blowing, and the running water moaned and gasped at the turning point. H beside him screamed softly for such a beautiful sentence. The moonlight is like water and wine, clear and blurry. Why is there a dull pain in my heart at this moment?

Is it because you feel something hidden in yourself in such transparent moonlight?

Is it because you feel your own shortcomings and regrets in such a perfect round of radiance?

There seems to be a fear that follows him like a shadow.

When I was young, the shadow in my heart came from the ignorance of the future. What would I encounter? What will I become? There are no revelations or signs. But on this night, the inescapable shadow comes from knowing the way forward, and the feast must break up! The prime of life never comes back, and we never have enough fun in this life. Please forgive me, dear friend, for the sadness and melancholy that are still tightly entwined in me even in the shining light.

Yes, on such a beautiful night, life can contain moonlight, but it has to contain a layer of transparent sadness at the same time.

Excerpted from "Collected Poems of Xi Murong" /xmr/