论文部分内容阅读
江南雨碎,北国雪寒。南朝四百八十寺,多少楼台烟雨中。对于我这个从未跨出北方一步的人来说,书上那些“春风又绿江南岸”“春来江水绿如蓝”的娟秀字句,带着一抹若有若无的江南气息,无时无刻不在撩动着我的心。我见过真正的雪,真正的冰,真正的雾,却唯独没有见过真正的“斜风细雨”。对于江南的渴望仿佛是纠缠了几个世纪的梦,华丽而虚无,在我心底深处轻轻荡漾。然而有一次,偶然从朋友那里看到了一本画册,名曰《忆江南》。画面中的烟雨朦胧迷离,只看一眼,仿若就有一泓清泉顺着喉咙流淌到心里,留一丝深深浅浅的清凉在心底,滋润着干枯已久的心。不远
Jiangnan rain broken, snow cold North. Four hundred and eighty Temple in the Southern Dynasties, how many towers in the misty rain. For those of us who have never taken a step further from the north, the words of Juan Xiu in the book, “Spring Breeze and Green River South Bank” All of a sudden move my heart. I’ve seen real snow, real ice, real fog, but I’ve never seen a real “beveled rain”. The longing for Jiangnan seems to be entangled in a few centuries of dreams, gorgeous and nothingness, in my heart gently waves. However, once, occasionally saw a picture book from friends, known as “Yi Jiangnan.” Smoke and rain in the picture faint blur, just take a look, there is a Wang Qingquan flowing down the throat to the heart, leaving a trace of deep shallow shallow in the bottom of my heart, nourishing the long-dried heart. Not far