Chapter 59: Thinking of the words, Chinese violinist Chen Mei

Thinking of the words, Chinese violinist Chen Mei...

14o chapters,

Thinking of the Chinese violinist Chen Mei...

Liu Guozong

Occasionally, the sunset shines on my desk, very bright, very warm.

How I wish I could hold onto the bright, warm sunset before me!

The sunset moves away inch by inch, no matter how hard I try to keep it. 'Deep feeling yet troubled by indifference,' I don't know if the sunset notices my attempt to keep it.

Outside the window, the tree shadows sway back and forth; the sunset, amidst the swaying shadows, gradually recedes, darkens, and becomes boundless. Gazing at the fading sunset, my heart feels vast and empty.

I wrote some boring words beneath the window; some of these words have lingered in my heart for a long time. Like early spring flowers, they have endured an entire winter's gestation, and she wishes to offer her beauty to spring.

Regardless of whether people like or dislike admiring it, this flower must bloom.

The words I wrote are also like those early spring flowers.

I have many flowers in my heart that want to bloom for the world.

I hope this world can give me good appreciation.

The ancients said, 'The sunset is infinitely beautiful, only near dusk.' Dusk also has good sunlight.

I always think my original idea was correct, good, perfect.

Just like when I looked at the full sky of morning glow at dawn, each cloud was the most beautiful under heaven, each radiant beyond compare, each would bring a surprise to the world, each could bring me good fortune.

But when the sun gradually rises, that whole sky of rosy clouds turns into endless mist, even stormy rain. In fact, nowadays no one appreciates the morning glow. People nowadays are so clever; they long ago knew that the so-called full sky of morning glow is merely passing clouds. Even if the morning glow is beautiful, who has leisure to appreciate those useless things? Can it be eaten or drunk? How far is that beauty from life? That's something you can't rely on— which ox matches which horse?

I am now that person who appreciates the morning glow. Every dawn, in the small village where I live, I am always the first to rise; my purpose in rising is to appreciate the morning glow, to appreciate the beauty in the sky, to appreciate that beauty forever out of reach. Though I know in my heart that beauty is not mine, I still want to appreciate it, pursue it. Is this fate? Is this timing?

I also think of the Tang dynasty poet Li Bai and the poet: 'Sea guests speak of Yingzhou, misty waves make messages hard to find. The people of Yue speak of Tianmu; clouds and rosy light, dim or bright, may be seen.'

Li Bai's poetry is like an unleashed horse, unrestrained, also called 'riding freely.' I don't know where he ran off to. He speaks as he pleases, never minding anything. He does not live by others' looks and judgments.

If you say I'm good, I am good; if you say I'm bad, I am bad.

Of course Li Bai is a genius.

From Li Bai, I recall the CCTV music program currently airing 'Chen Mei World Storm.' Chen Mei is a Chinese violinist. She travels the world with her violin; wherever she goes, she receives enthusiastic welcome and can stir waves of applause. CCTV calls 'World Storm' a person who can gain worldwide welcome; no matter which country she visits, she is received like an angel, with grand hospitality. This is a divine gift.

Seeing these useless words I wrote, how angry and disappointed I feel! Because seeing these useless words is my worth in this world. If what I wrote is all trash, then my existence to the world is also trash. My words and deeds are my self, which differs from others.

Nothing should be too much or too rotten. The saying goes, extremes reverse. 'High places cannot withstand cold'; the higher the position, the more cold.

Having too much money is also a burden; having no money makes you a penniless wretch.

Of course, the ancients said the Doctrine of the Mean, which no one can achieve. The ancients themselves also said: 'The world can have rulers, ranks and salaries can be declined, blades can be trod upon, but the Doctrine of the Mean is impossible.'

Under heaven, anything can be done, except 'the Doctrine of the Mean is impossible.' For something that cannot be done, why do the ancients still urge people to do it? This is the ancients' norm and standard for people.

The Doctrine of the Mean was proposed by Confucius's disciple; I saw Confucius himself say such words. Perhaps I am ignorant and narrow-minded. Confucius himself never achieved the Mean; he spent his life wandering about, anxious and unable to rest. Wanting to be an official, wanting officials to appreciate him, value him, promote him—this is inevitable; as long as one is human, no one does not want to be an official.

Laozi also wanted to be an official; Laozi's Classic of the Way and Virtue is his complaint because he never attained office, never was promoted, valued, or appreciated by officials. Wanting to be an official is good; wanting to be an official is also animals' nature. The saying goes, 'No head, no walking; no head, no flying.'

As long as they are animals, they all want to be in front. Only by being in front can one show one's worth and meaning. If everyone wanted to be lagging behind, the world would not advance. But if everyone were officials, the office would be worthless. Having officials makes things easier.

Hope still remains in my heart.

Moreover, I seem to have seen a glimmer of hope. Although this light is indeed tiny, the light I see is like a frog at the bottom of a well occasionally seeing the sea. Those creatures on the well would surely laugh their heads off.