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Zhu Ziqing's "Moonlight in a Lotus Pond
The past few days have been quite unsettling. Tonight, sitting in the courtyard, I suddenly remembered that the lotus pond I walked past day after day, in the light of the full moon, should have a different look, right? The moon was rising, and the laughter of the children on the road outside the wall was no longer audible; my wife was humming a sleep song in a daze as she slapped a leap in the house. I quietly put on my coat and closed the door to go out.
Along the lotus pond is a small winding road of coal dust. It is a secluded road; few people walk it during the day, and it is even lonelier at night. On all sides of the lotus pond, there are many trees growing, luxuriant. On one side of the road, there are some willows and some trees whose names are unknown. In the night when there is no moonlight, the road is gloomy and a bit scary. Tonight is good, although the moonlight is still faint.
I was alone on the road, pacing with my hands behind my back. This piece of heaven and earth seems to be mine; I also seem to have gone beyond my usual self, to another world. I love to be lively, but also love to be calm; I love to live in groups, but also love to be alone. Like tonight, under the pale moon, I can think about everything and nothing, and I feel free. The things I must do and say during the day can now be ignored. This is the beauty of being alone, and I will enjoy the boundless lotus fragrance of the moon.
Above the winding lotus pond, the pervasive view is of the leaves of the fields. The leaves come out of the water very high, like the skirt of a pavilion dancer. In the middle of the layers of leaves, there are some white flowers dotted sporadically, some open in a slender manner, some shyly beating; just like a grain of pearl, and like the stars in the blue sky, and like a beauty just out of the bath. The breeze is passing by, sending wisps of fragrance, as if a distant tall building is like a distant song. At this time, the leaves and flowers also had a slight tremor, like lightning, which suddenly spread across the lotus pond. The leaves were shoulder-to-shoulder and close together, so there was a solid blue ripple. The leaves are covered by the pulsating water underneath, so you can't see some colors; but the leaves are more beautiful.
The moonlight, like flowing water, quietly cascades over the leaves and flowers of this piece. A thin green mist floated up in the lotus pond. The leaves and flowers seemed to have been washed in buttermilk; and they were like a dream with a light veil. Although it was a full moon, there was a light cloud in the sky, so it could not shine brightly; but I thought it was just the right time - a sound sleep is indispensable, but a nap is also a good flavor. The moonlight was shining through the trees, and the bushes high above fell in a jumble of dark shadows, as craggy as ghosts; the sparse shadows of the curved willows were painted on the lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond is not uniform; but light and shadow have a harmonious melody, such as the famous song played on the van shapely ling.
On all sides of the lotus pond, there are trees far and near, high and low, and there are most willows. These trees surround the pond heavily; only a few gaps are left along the path, as if for moonlight. The color of the trees was always shady, and at first glance it looked like a cloud of smoke; but the richness of the willows could be seen in the smoke. The tops of the trees were faintly covered with distant hills, with only some carelessness. There are one or two road lights leaking through the trees, and they are the eyes of a thirsty sleeper. The most lively thing at this time is the sound of cicadas in the trees and frogs in the water; but the lively thing is theirs, I have nothing.
I suddenly remembered about lotus picking. It seems to be an old custom in the south of the Yangtze River, and it was prevalent during the Six Dynasties; we can know it from the poems. The lotus-pickers are young women, who go there in small boats, singing lively songs. It goes without saying that there were many lotus-pickers and people watching the lotus-picking. It was a lively season and also a season of flirtation. It is well said in Emperor Liang Yuandi's "Cai Lian Fu" that
So the girls and the girls, the girls and the girls, swung the boat with their hearts; the tiger's head returned slowly, and the feather cup was passed; the dock would move while the algae was hanging, and the boat wanted to move while the pinks were opening. Their slender waists were tied up, and they delayed their steps; at the beginning of summer and the end of spring, the leaves were tender and the flowers were early, they were afraid to stain their clothes and smile, and they were afraid to pour the boat and restrain the train.
You can see the light of the playfulness at that time. This is really interesting, but unfortunately we have long been unable to enjoy it now.
Then I remembered the lines from "Xizhou Qu":
The lotus seeds are as clear as water when you look down at them. If there are lotus pickers tonight, the lotus here is also counted as more than human head; only the shadow of some flowing water, is not possible. This makes me think about Jiangnan in the end. -I was thinking about this, and I looked up, but I was already in front of my own door; I gently pushed the door in, and there was no sound, my wife had been asleep for a long time.
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