美文阅读 | 好时光悄悄溜走 Good Times Slip Away Quietly (迟子建)

0:00More to read, more to unfold. May when you do. Hello everyone and welcome back to More to Read, the podcast where there is always more to unfold. I'm your host Shinteng. Today we're stepping into one of the most delicate and poetic of the traditional Chinese solar terms. Ailu, white dew. As the summer heat fades and cool autumn breezes take over, white dew marks the true beginning of early autumn. The name itself paints a vivid picture. Overnight temperature drops, turn vapor into crystal white dew, clinging to grass and leaves. Unlike the bleakness of the late autumn frost, white dew carries a purity and quiet beauty of beauty. It's not a season of withering but of settling, a time for nature to calm down, for life to

1:04slow down and for literature to breed tender, profound emotions. Today we'll explore three classic works closely tied to white dew and early autumn. Let's dive in. Opening quote, words that lead the way. Lu Chongjin Yebai, Yue Shi Gu Xiangming, Dov, dew turns into frost since tonight. The moon viewed at home is more bright, doleful.

2:13When it comes to white dew, one famous line inevitably comes to Chinese people's mind, the one we just heard. It's from a poem titled, To My Brothers on the Moonlit Night, written by Dov, the great realist poet of the town dynasty. Often called, the poet historian, Dov, who had a gift for weaving personal fate and worldly hardship into delicate depictions of nature. Returning during the turmoil of war, the poem uses the arrival of white dew to mark the changing seasons. The simple line, Dov turns into frost since tonight, signals early autumn. Yet beneath the tranquil seasonal scene lies the poet's deep longing for his scattered family. With its warm then humanity, the poem captures another core meaning of this solar term. The turning of seasons stirs nostalgia, and the cool autumn breeze tucks at our hearts

3:17for home and loved ones. This then, white dew has become a literary symbol of homesickness. Lu Chong, Jing Ye Bai, Yue Shi Gu Xiang Ming, Dov, Dov turns into frost since tonight. The moon view at home is more bright. Dov. Classics recited, echoes through time.

4:23Dov whose verse is full of warmth, but the connection between this solar term and literature goes back even further. Qian Jia, from the Book of Sauns, is probably the earliest and most classic literary work themed around white dew in Chinese history. The Book of Sauns, China's oldest poetry collection, compiles works from the Western Joe dynasty to the spring and autumn period, reflecting the authentic folk aesthetics and emotions of ancient times. The poem opens with early autumn scenery at white dew. On a misty morning, reads sway by the river, covered in thick white dew. The hazy, quiet, slightly desolate scene perfectly frames the poet's distant lingering longing. What makes this poem timeless is the way it transforms white dew into something more than a natural image.

5:24It becomes a symbol of pure, unreachable yearning. It establishes the defining, aesthetic tone of white dew in Chinese literature, tranquil, hazy and touched with gentle malancholy. Shriver waves slowly, white dew is a strike for the guards. Shriver waves slowly,ots place.

6:40The white journey slowly begins, Where is she? Gring, ring the read, Do and frost gleam, Where is she I need? Beyond the stream, Upstream I go, The way is long, Downstream I go, She's there a month, White, white the read, Do not shed dried, Where is she I need? On the other side, Upstream I go, Hard is the way, Downstream I go,

7:48She's far away, Bright, bright the read, Do and frost blend, Where is she I need? At rivers end, Upstream I go, The way does wind, Downstream I go, She's far behind. From ancient poetry to modern prose, The choir charm of early autumn,

8:52White dew carries on. Our final piece is, Good Times slip away quietly, How Shi Guang, Qiao Qiao Liu Zuo, A classic essay by Chi Zi Jian, One of contemporary channels most celebrated female writers, Known for her fresh, delicate and warm style, Chi has a gift for capturing subtle natural scenes and the small tender moments of daily life, Weaving gentle reflections on time and existence into the landscapes she describes. Though not direct to meditation on the White Dew solar term, this essay quietly echoes its essence, Capturing early autumn's subtle transformations in the forest and field, more gently reminding us that all good times like the seasons slip away before we know it. Good Times slip away before we know it, Good Times slip away quietly quietly,

9:56Chi Zi Jian, Good Times slip away quietly by Chi Zi Jian. Ten years ago, my family was still a complete family. Then, the parents and father were all present. The parents were all in the same room, living in their own room, and they had so many birds and two rabbits. The father was in the school, he liked to wake up early, I found that the father was not at home every time. He liked to work at the dining table at the time. I often saw him early when he came back, crying out of a shilling line. Ten years ago, my family was still whole. My grandfather and father were both alive. Grandfather tended a vegetable garden, lived alone in his thatched cottage, and kept many birds and a pair of rabbits. My father was the principal of a primary school.

10:58He was an early riser, and every time I got up, he was already gone. He loved working in the garden at dorm, and I often saw him return for breakfast with the hymns of his trousers wet with dew. Father loved his vegetable patch, and even more, he loved eating what he grew. In the evening, he would often sit down to a meal of garden vegetables, accompanied by a glass of locally distilled liquor, looking peaceful and content.

12:14He was a kind, generous, and gentle man, with no shortage of humor. He caught my elder sister first miss, and me second miss, sometimes even miscat. On Sundays, when my sister and I slept until nearly noon, he would pace in and out of the house countless times. Lying in bed, I'd sometimes hear him ask my mother in the kitchen. Our first miss and second miss still knocked up. The nude sigh with phoned indulgence. They certainly know how to enjoy life. Ten years ago, my family lived in the countryside, and the air was the real air. The sky was also the real sky. He'd been waiting only at the place of five minutes, and walk his mountain.

13:15That was just the punt. Mountain לכ ему got clammed. I clashed with a smell of streams of rock, snow, sea舞, grilled basketball games, I like to go to the mountains to guess them. After the water, I was sitting on the grassland of the mountain. Ten years ago, the air we lived was truly air, and the sky was truly sky. A five minute walk from home would take us up into the hills. The hills were always beautiful. In spring, they were covered in blooming azeleus, a sweeping expanse of red, more brilliant than the morning clouds. In summer, the forest plants grew tall, and wild berries ripened one after another.

14:16Blueberries, cloud berries, raspberries, proberries, and water grapes. I loved to go into the woods to pick them, and after I had gathered enough, I would sit on the grassy forest floor and enjoy them. At that time, the sun was shining through the night I was in. My face was red, red, red, and the sky was the best color in the world. At those moments, sunlight filtered through the dappled leaves and fell upon me, turning my cheeks a deep crimson, as if the sun had stolen the finest rouge in the world and painted it all over my face.

15:29The mist was filled with the magic of the magic. That time, I was crying at the same time. From then on, I was not so confident when I sat on the grassy forest floor. I always wanted to see if there was any enemy. Sometimes, I was still lucky to have a chance to sit on it. But not every outing was so carefully. Once I sat down right on the walls of the nest, and all held by the glues, the entire colony swarmed out, buzzing furiously around me. No matter how fast I ran, they pursued me like an invader and delivered their punishment without mercy. My face, arms and legs were dotted with red welts, and my backside was covered so thickly, it looked like a case of measles. I ran all the way home in tears. After that, I was never quite so carefully about sitting down in the woods. I always had to check the surroundings for enemy activity first,

16:30and even then, I'd sit with lingering unease. Qiu Tian came to me and the magic was coming out. Then I would go to the mountain to see the magic. Qiu Ji's body was more emotional. Shuyi Ye, Yohong Da, Yoh Jin Huang Da, and Qing Lu Da. The yellow leaves were all lost. The red leaves were all lost in the water. Qing Lu's body was still alive, but it was not able to hold the breath of the wind, but it was able to be a promise. When Autumn arrived, mushrooms would appear, and I would go with my father to pick them in the mountains. The Autumn Forest was impossibly romantic, leaves in red, gold, and blue green. Most of the yellow leaves had already fallen, while the red ones hung fragilely from the branches, and the blue green still clung to a thread of life,

17:33though they looked wary as if they could not withstand much more of the autumn wind. I like those soft, water-yling mushrooms, and the light green on the surface of the lake, which are the fresh ones. In autumn, I like to go to the mountains and rivers of the river, and I love those fuzzy, dewy mushrooms growing densely on the humus-rich forest floor. They were like stars scattered across the woods. In autumn, I also love to cross the Huma River to pick bird cherries and crab apples. The grass and leaves are growing in the river, and the grass and leaves are not red, but very thirsty. I don't like to eat black bears, but I can't eat black bears at the same time. So, I have never been to the river,

18:33but when I have not caught the tree, I will use a knife to cut the grass and stick it to the winter. I heard that the bear is afraid of hearing this sound. As long as the sound comes, it will be a flower. Now, I think that the bear is hiding behind the black bear. But, if it is not like that, will it be me now? Of course, black bears don't like to eat me. I think I don't know how to eat it, but I think it is better to eat it in the river. But, if it is able to protect it, will it be a good choice to change its taste? So, black bears are going to be caught. It seems that the bear is always open to the evil. Bird cherries are favored and mostly grow in river valleys. After it touched frost, they turned sweet and no longer astringent, truly delicious. And I wasn't the only one who thought so.

19:35Black bears loved them too. But I could hardly share the harvest with the bear. So, after crossing the river, before I even got close to the bird cherry trees, I would pound my eye in bucket with the head of my sickle, making a loud, cland, cland, cland. I had heard that bears would terrified of that sound, that it would send them fleeing in panic. Looking back now, I feel I was rather unkind to those bears. But then again, if I hadn't done that, would I still be here today? Of course, maybe the bear wouldn't have fancied me at all. I doubt I was as mouthwatering as those bird cherries. But who could guarantee that upon seeing me, it wouldn't suddenly develop a craving for a change of menu. So the bear had to be driven away as always. It seems there will always be an unresolvable conflict between humans and animals.

20:36From the hazy yearning of Genja in the Book of Psalms, to the heartfelt nostalgia of Dufu's Thump poetry, and on to the warm, quiet meditation on time, in Trudze Gen's modern prose. Waddu has taken on many layers of meaning over the centuries. It marks the turning of seasons, carries our deepest emotions, and reminds us to let go of summer's restlessness, embrace the calm of early autumn, and cherish every fleeting good moment in life. May we all walk in the cool autumn breeze of Waddu, find stuners in our hearts, and meet the gentle beauty of the season. Thank you for listening. I'm Shanteng Imbejing. See you next time.