Chapter 747: Rainy night, what the poet awaits

Rainy night, what the poet awaits

Twenty-seventh day: Rainy night, what the poet awaits

"The sun greets me with a smile; rain, its melancholy sister, speaks to my heart." This is the poet's two different states of mind: the state under sunshine and the state in wind and rain.

The poet's state of mind under sunshine is joyful, happy, even the expression of the sun in the sky is beautiful; the mood in wind and rain is gloomy, heavy. But the poet did not make clear the concrete image of that 'sister in wind and rain.' Reading it leaves one vague, as if under sunshine, drifting with thin clouds. Perhaps the poet's heart is like that sky under sunshine, originally having thin clouds.

Actually, human mood is not something nature can control; having sunny weather does not necessarily mean a good mood, and lacking sunny days does not mean there is no good mood. Sometimes it is the opposite: on a night of wind and rain intermingling, one can have a good mood; on bright sunny days, one can still have a bad mood.

Speaking of having a good mood on a windy and rainy night, it inevitably brings to mind the poem 'Spring Night Joyful Rain' by the great Tang poet Du Fu. Du Fu. This poet, who spent his lifetime hardly ever having a few good days, his life was almost constantly stumbling and struggling, displaced, rarely experiencing a happy mood.

One spring night, Du Fu, living in lonely solitude in the countryside, suddenly heard the sound of wind and rain outside the window. That spring night's wind and rain sounded to Du Fu like beautiful music.

Poet Du Fu was inexplicably happy; in his loneliness there was a joyful event — 'Good rain knows the season; when spring arrives, it grows.'

Why say that rain is a 'good rain'?

This may be the result of the poet's stillness reaching extreme, longing for movement.

Perhaps the poet was too lonely; in that remote mountain village, the lonely poet. By day he conversed with mountains and waters; by night he spoke with stars and moon.

Spring had come, but drought had persisted long; on the mountain, those flowers and grasses that should have had red buds and green leaves remained unopened for a long time.

Due to the dry air, even the birds' cries became somewhat hoarse.

The poet thought, if it rained, he would see the beautiful spring scenery of myriad purples and reds; more importantly, if it rained, the poet's unplanted crops in the fields could be sown in time.

Was this the poet's state of mind then?

In short, the poet harbored anticipation for the spring rain.

What does the poet anticipate? Is it the scene after a night of spring rain, at dawn, when all things, nourished by the spring rain, flourish and grow? And the flowers that best represent spring's scenery will become more lovely and radiant; those heavy blossoms will bend their delicate stems.

Is this the poet's anticipation? This anticipation is also trivial.

Someone who constantly thinks of flower buds and grass sprouts, is he too bored, or too helpless? \