Chapter 23: That former tenderness

That former tenderness.

105 chapters,

That former tenderness, that future fragrance….

Liu Guozong

Now it is deep winter. Frost and snow, cold winds like swords, have utterly destroyed all the plants' verdant greenness and delicate beauty. The earth is a expanse of withered barrenness, a expanse of pallid whiteness, a expanse of solemn stillness and gray gloom. Those former fragrances, those former tenderness, have become memories in dreams, and faint sighs upon waking. Thus the poet Ximurong said:

"When the smiling face that greets the wind is no longer fragrant

Gentle words have all fallen silent.

When the pupils of the stars grow cold and dark

And myriad mountains and rivers have utterly vanished their traces.

I am merely a solitary tree.

In resisting the arrival of autumn."

The poet speaks of autumn in nature, or perhaps autumn in life. Trees, whether large or small; people more often love its verdancy, love the flowers and fruit within that verdancy. Once a tree loses its verdancy, the flowers fade and the fruit falls. Bare branches, what loveliness or praiseworthiness is there left? What do I praise you for? "I praise you! I praise —

You, from within your own self,

exhaling a faint heavenly fragrance,

blooming a graceful, lovely flower.

Flower! Love!

The essence of the cosmos!

The fountain of life!

If spring had no flowers,

If life had no love.

What kind of world would that become?"

In this world, if you do not love others, and you have no more "flowers" or "blossoms" worth loving, then you will become like a tree in autumn—very lonely. No wonder God reminds us, "Young ones, let us love, not only in words and speech, but in deeds and truth." Yes, love must have proof; what is that proof? It is "deeds and sincerity".

I am a tree; when spring returns, I want my flowers to be more beautiful than before they bloomed, and my fruits to be sweeter than before they set.

106 chapters, Spring Reverie (three parts)

Liu Guozong

(one),

Those far away, longing for the sight of spring

Poet, actually your life is not so bitter; Ba Shan and Chu Water are not really a desolate place—this is probably just your feeling, right? As long as you keep living as you always have, you can solve the problems of daily livelihood, your children's education, and your parents' illnesses. Whether life is bitter or spicy, just grit your teeth and keep going! Although poetry is now worthless (it's best not to write poetry anymore), but we people still can't earn money?

When life feels dreary, indulging in nostalgia to music is fine. I haven't heard from you in a long time, and my mood and situation are no better than yours. So we'd better not keep in touch, lest people say we're sharing each other's misery.

Now it's snowing, winter has arrived, the plum blossoms at the wall corner have bloomed again; if you could return to your hometown at this time, you could also bring wine and count the number of those wall‑corner plum blossoms.

The cement boats by the river in your hometown, because of the cold, are all moored in the withered reed beds; the old trees you once pruned, their branches gnarled with wrinkled limbs, if spring comes, they will still vie for spring like other trees, and you would see no sign of sickness in them.

It's only those worldly birds that bully the old trees, often perching on their branches to squawk noisily or to defecate and urinate. For these shameless birds, the old trees simply ignore them.

When I have leisure, I also often go to the base of the old tree, lean against its trunk and whisper privately with it; this way it is not lonely, and neither am I.

Poet, can you change your state of mind? Just as the years change your appearance.

(two),

When spring comes again

Jiangnan, now it is already the season of lush grass and flying warblers in the second month. Is the beautiful scenery I remember—"the sunrise makes river flowers redder than fire, spring makes river water greener than blue"—still as it was? Winter's ice and snow have melted; the willows are sprouting green, and the peach and plum trees are sending forth fragrance. Yet I cannot return to the Jiangnan of poetry and dream, nor to the childhood of poetry and dream. The poet says:

"When spring arrives,

when fragrance is released in order,

at this moment

walking beneath the mountain cherry trees

there are some distant and confined

dreams will

return anew

such as

words never spoken

promises never fulfilled

in the palest of colors

flowing a kind of

emotion that has nowhere to be placed

(three),

Early spring, many plants are preparing to bloom

The fine rain on the city streets—if I could grasp you as tightly as the "grass color" of the Tang Dynasty, never changing my hue for a thousand years, then this spring would be mine.

Walking alone in the spring breeze and fine rain, spring—this world probably no one knows how deeply I love you. Strolling through this gentle spring breeze, passing through this fine drizzle, upon this verdant grass, I see many plants preparing to bloom. They are offering their utmost beauty to this spring, to this spring‑like world.

The good things in this world are increasing, but for me there is one thing that is dwindling: "time".

Spring has come; what beautiful thing shall I offer to the world?

God said: "While there is daylight, we must do the work of the One who sent us; when night falls, no one can work."

Yes, we should seize the "daytime", strive to work for the world, strive to create the best for it—like spring flowers, to offer the most beautiful and excellent; like spring grass, to keep its vivid color forever within spring.