Old Shu Collection - Everyone's Little Collection

Author: Lao She / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: The autumn of Jinan is poetic. If your imagination has an ancient city, a slumbering grand tower, narrow ancient stone roads, thick stone walls, a clear stream flowing around the city reflecting mountain shadows, and little girls in red robes and green pants squatting on the banks, then that is Jinan. If you cannot imagine it—most people cannot—please come to Jinan. Please come in autumn. The city, the river, the ancient roads, and the mountain shadows are always ready for you. But with the addition of Jinan's autumn colors, Jinan transitions from a rustic painting to a serene poetic realm. This poetic autumn light and color are unique to Jinan. God gave summer's art to Switzerland, spring's to West Lake, and all of autumn and winter to Jinan. Autumn and winter are not easily separated; when autumn falls asleep a little, it becomes winter. God does not want to wake it abruptly, so as a kind gesture, he gave both autumn and winter to Jinan. In poetic realms, there must be mountains and water. So, please look at Jinan. The mountains, with their different colors, directions, and heights, become even more distinct in autumn.
Take the colors, for example. The pines at the mountain waist are dark green. Under the slanted autumn sun, they take on deeper shades than gray but lighter than black, casting a grayish-yellow shadow over the surrounding yellow grass. The mountain feet are adorned with stripes of various colors—some yellow, some gray, some green, and some almost magenta. The colors of the mountain peaks also change with the sun's movement. The colors of the mountain peaks are not important, but those of the mountain waist truly inspire poetry. The colors of the mountain waist are always in flux, especially in autumn. The sunlight can suddenly cool for a moment, then warm again. This change is not intense, but the mountains sense it and immediately adjust their hues. Suddenly, the yellow becomes more vivid, then darker again. Suddenly, as if an invisible mist is flowing, or as if a gentle breeze is blending the colors for "nature," it lightly applies a layer of delicate, multi-colored hues.
With such mountains, paired with the blue sky and warm, sunny light—blue as if it might turn green but hasn't quite; sunny and warm as if it might dry out, yet with a cool breeze, just like the gentleness of poetry—this is Jinan's autumn. Moreover, because of the differences in color, the heights of the mountains become even more pronounced. The high mountains rise higher, the low mountains sink lower, and the mountain ridges and curves become sharper, clearer, and more slender in the clear sky. Look at that tower on the mountain peak! Then, look at the water. In terms of quantity, quality, and form, where can water compare to Jinan? There are springs—everywhere are springs—there are rivers, lakes. This is a formal division. Whether it is a spring, river, or lake, they are all so clear, so sweet. Oh, Jinan is "nature's SweetHeart, isn't it? The lotus flowers of Daming Lake in summer, the green willows of the city river—naturally beautiful. But to appreciate water, one must see autumn water. Jinan has autumn mountains and autumn water, and only then does autumn truly belong to Jinan, for the autumn spirit resides here.
Let's not mention anything else for now, just the green algae in the water. That green, unless it is the green in God's heart, cannot be compared to anything else. This fresh green is revealed through the water's clarity, as if a beauty admiring her own beauty in a mirror. Yes, these algae enjoy the sweetness of the water for themselves, not for anyone else. They know their green secrets, and they spend the entire year kissing the water's surface, dreaming in green. Playful ducks tap them with their golden feet, and the shadows of washerwomen brush their green leaves. Only this is their sweet torment. Poets envy them to death!
P1-2