The American autumn woods are beautiful and charming, and only an American who grew up in a foreign country can fully appreciate them. What baffles me is that I never heard anyone talk about it until I returned to the United States. I had been living in China, where it was peaceful and picturesque, with its own unique and lovely features: thin green bamboos swaying, the lotus pond reflecting the raised eaves of the temple, and the earth a lush green land. The bright subtropical sunshine and the star-studded night sky make it appear all kinds of delicate and soft. As summer passes and autumn comes, golden chrysanthemums are in full bloom, but in a blink of an eye, there is a bleak west wind again, the yellow flowers are haggard, and the whole area is desolate. There is a saying: The waning autumn cannot be endured, but the fragrance is waiting for the coming spring. The trees have all fallen leaves, leaving only the dark brown trees shaking in the wind. Almost overnight, the earth was covered with plain winter clothes. Everything is gray. Between the desolate sky and earth, there are several small farmhouses and mud houses, all lifeless. People were also wrapped in dark blue and gray cotton robes, losing their former vitality.

In this way, after wandering in the East, I set foot on the beautiful British wilderness. The lavender and tawny tones of late summer made me fascinated. Hedges could not be more lovely even in primrose season. The dreamlike tranquility makes people forget the troubles of the world and indulge in the quiet fertile fields, ancient gray stone houses, and the rising smoke in the still atmosphere. The land of England is enveloped in a beautiful and comfortable atmosphere, which is like falling asleep after a hard work.

With this in mind, I crossed the Atlantic and arrived in New York City. Who else can feel the astonishing vitality displayed by the noisy New York except those who are used to China's slow trams, rickshaws and trolleys? On the street, cars come one after another. Just as you dodge one, thousands more are coming - crossing the road has become a thrilling adventure. In comparison, the bandits who block roads and rob people in China seem mild-mannered. The dizzying rumble of trains on the elevated railway; and the underground roar that apparently comes from the belly of the universe. I was fascinated by the yawning earth, which swallowed up people by the hundreds in one place and vomited them out somewhere miles away, and who were still hurried and restless. . The boring subway makes me unbearable, and the trolleybus makes me extremely nervous. Whenever I hold on to the sling in the tram, I recall with regret the past in China: the trolley moved slowly forward, there were several pools of clear water beside the road, and ducks paddled their webs leisurely; from time to time I would lean forward to pick a flower. Wild flowers are thrown to the children who are crawling in the dust with their dark bodies naked.

New York awakened me from my warm dream, and the American autumn forest amazed me again.

A week later, as I was walking in the woods of Virginia, I could not express my ecstasy. Before this, no one had ever told me how beautiful the scenery in the forest was. Of course they have said, "You know the leaves change color in the fall." But what impression does that give? I originally thought it was just some light yellow, tawny or light rose red. However, what I saw was a vibrant, colorful scene that was incredibly rough, gorgeous, and full of wild vitality. Under the dark cliff, a towering tree rises from the ground, and a fiery red vine climbs up, like an energetic sentinel - I will never forget this scene.

The winding paths in the maple forest are like the paths leading to the golden avenue of heaven. Strolling away, the branches above your head are intertwined, with orange, pink, scarlet, dark brown, light yellow... a variety of colors. Wandering in the forest is like walking on a bright carpet. This is a bright color that even Beijing carpets do not have, and a color that even the wealth of an emperor cannot buy. Those thin vines and young grass must have been weak and petite in summer, but now they are not willing to be lonely, and they are full of beauty and beauty.

So beautiful! There is nothing like it on earth! Yet I doubt that Americans can appreciate this view year after year. Regardless, American Autumn Forest took my breath away. The Northern Lights will not surprise me, although this will only be proven later; nor will Vesuvius surprise me, and even if one day the sky disappears to the tune of Gabriel's trumpet, I doubt I Would you still be surprised? It was the first time in my life that I took a walk in the American autumn forest, and I was deeply moved by the beauty of this quiet thing. I don't believe there is anything else in the world that can give me a more profound revelation of beauty.

I once again fell into meditation on beauty.

It has always been my pleasure to look for the loveliness of all things in the world and to think about how the natures of various nations naturally reveal themselves in different beautiful ways. In other words, my attention is not on those things that tourists flock to. places of interest, because the ordinary people of that country are rarely seen in those tourist places.

I found France not in the Louvre, but in an old woman. Wearing a blue cloth dress and a white gauze scarf, she knelt beside the tinkling stream to pound her clothes. She is so hard-working and virtuous. She suddenly raised her head and smiled at me, showing her ubiquitous and ever-present humor and style. A face full of wrinkles, a pair of eternally young eyes, flowing light and full of vitality - I was almost stunned.

The inaccessible Alps, covered with white snow, look particularly majestic against the blue sky, but they do not really reflect the characteristics of the Swiss people. The Swiss people are hardworking, peaceful and steady. On that small piece of land, pear trees must be carefully planted against the wall, grapevines must be pruned carefully to prevent them from growing wildly, and the clusters of fruits must be carefully counted. Everything there is small and neat, and has its own unique beauty. The majestic Jungfraujoch has always stood on that small piece of land, but I doubt whether the Swiss can even take a second look at her all year round.

How strange! Somehow, I can only think about the differences of various ethnic groups in such an orderly way when my thoughts are connected with China, the country where I was raised.

I don’t know how many foreigners said to me as soon as they got off the train from Shanghai and finished their first trip to China: "...Hey, China is not as beautiful as Japan!"

I just smiled and didn’t want to answer right away, because I know the beauty of China.

Japan feels exquisite. This is not only its lovely porcelain, gorgeous and elegant kimonos, and those charming children who are walking quickly, which everyone knows; its beauty is not just in the small terraces on the hillside, not in those neat but flimsy The houses and the little wonderland of life—these are visible.

The great beauty of Japan exists in places where you and I, as passers-by, can hardly find it while looking around.

It is this kind of beauty that makes a coolie who has worked hard for a day put down his pole, eat some rice and fish, and go to the handkerchief-sized garden to get busy. They worked with concentration, relaxed and happy, completely immersed in the joy of creating beauty for themselves and their family. The whole family gathered around him, watching in admiration. Every Japanese family has a garden. If fate refuses to grant a poor man a square foot of land, he will spend part of his money to buy a large piece of land. After a few hours of hard and happy work, he will Gradually there was a miniature garden: a rockery, a pavilion, and a pool of clear water. A few pieces of moss can be used as lawns; some grass can be used as trees; and ferns can be stuffed into the cracks of the rocks, and there is a bush.

It is this kind of beauty that makes a Japanese inn owner, in order to make his guests feel comfortable, change an exquisite furnishing in the room every day. Today, he picked out an ink painting from his collection. The picture is elegant and lifelike, with a bird standing on a reed. Tomorrow, there will be another dark blue porcelain vase in your house, with a branch of snow pear in full bloom placed in the vase, placed just right, so that you can't help but want to understand Buddhism. Sometimes, what appears in your room will be an old rug. On the faded carpet, a pair of people carrying lanterns are walking, which looks weird and interesting.

Recently, I have heard a lot of gossip about Japan. Some people even say that Japanese people do not even have the qualities of ordinary people. I dare not comment, but I will wait until someone combines for me these two qualities: incomparable evil and tender love of beauty. This kind of tender love can be found in almost all the poor and rich people in Japan. People spend their entire lives pursuing beauty spontaneously, not out of consideration for money, but out of a desire for beauty. If it is true that beauty is truth, then isn’t there some truth in it?

This kind of elegance and beauty that is common in Japan is certainly not everywhere in China. Therefore, I cannot blame my friends who take one look at China and conclude that it is ugly. Undoubtedly, the poverty of life makes the poor always thinking about how to fill their stomachs. In the lives of ordinary people, there is very little beauty.

One day, my gardener was plowing the ground in the garden, and I asked him: "Would you like to order some of these flower seeds and plant them in front of your house?"

He looked at it with distrust. He glanced at me and dug hard into the ground: "It's useless for poor people to grow flowers," he said, "They are all for rich people to enjoy."

"Yes, but it doesn't cost you money. You see , I can give you some flower seeds. If your land is not fertile, you can get some fertilizer from the compost pile here. I will give you time to tend to them. Planting some flowers will make you happy. ."

He leaned over and picked up a stone and threw it out, "I want to plant some vegetables." The gardener answered simply.

Undoubtedly, China’s poor people value economic benefits in everything they do. I also lived somewhere in the mainland for a while. There, I asked a peasant woman how she would arrange food and clothing if the harvest was good and there was a surplus. Should she save the surplus money or spend it?

Recalling the good times in the past, the peasant woman smiled and said excitedly: "Let's eat more!"

In a country full of bandits, they did not I deposited my savings in a trustworthy bank, but ate them all because that was the safest place, at least no one could snatch them away! God knows if they'll be any better off for it.

If you take a tour of Chinese cities, you will be surprised by their ugliness - they are overcrowded, dirty and messy; the streets are stinky and disgusting. Sick and crooked beggars, unkempt, resorting to their despicable means of making money, begging pitifully, and living a life of parasites. A few mangy dogs were sneaking around timidly. If you take a quick glance at a store or a resident's home, you will find that everything is based on practicality: tables are not painted, stools are obviously not made with people sitting on them comfortable, boxes, beds, a mess of old things children, and primitive cooking utensils - all of which are crowded into that tiny and incredible space, which is distracting and has no pursuit of the spiritual wealth that can be reflected in beauty.

A few days ago, I stood on the top of a mountain in Jiangxi, looking at the hundreds of miles of great rivers and mountains, and I felt extremely relaxed and happy - under the sun, the streams were sparkling; the Yangtze River was long, winding into the sea, just like a yellow avenue . It is shaded by green trees and sheltered by cottages. The rice fields are as green as jasper and as neat as a chessboard. Everything seems so peaceful and beautiful.

However, I know my motherland too well. I know that if I walk into that fairyland, I will find that the stream has been polluted and the riverside is crowded with dilapidated boats with mats as roofs. That is the only source of food for thousands of fishermen who are hungry. A place to live. Under the green trees, the houses are close to each other, the garbage exudes a stench under the sun, there are swarms of flies, and the yellow dogs that can be seen everywhere will bark at me. Although there is fresh air to enjoy, the house is small and windowless, and it is as dark as a cave. The children are extremely dirty, with matted hair, not to mention their noses, which always flow into their mouths! Not a single flower, not a single artificial beauty can be seen to relieve the monotony of life. Even the open space in front of the thatched house has been turned into a threshing floor, and the hard ground glows blue under the sunlight. . poverty? Yes, but it is also often the result of laziness and ignorance.

So, what is the beauty of China? It's not on the surface of things anyway. Don't worry, just listen to me slowly.

This ancient country has been silent and listless for centuries, never caring what other countries think of it, but it is here that I discovered a rare beauty in the world.

China did not express itself in those scenic spots and historic sites. Even in Beijing, the target of travelers’ Far East trip, what we saw were not scenic spots and historic sites: the Forbidden City, the Temple of Heaven, the Great Mosque... they were all This nation was gradually established according to the needs of life. It was built for themselves, not to attract tourists or make money. Indeed, for many years, these scenic spots have been rare to see.

Chinese people are born not to know what exhibitions and advertisements are. No matter which big silk shop you walk into in Hangzhou, you will find that the shop is simple and elegant, quiet and dim. There are rows of shelves, neat packages, and evenly arranged price tags hanging on the packages. In foreign countries, shopkeepers often hang carefully folded silks and satins on display racks to attract people's attention and attract customers. But there is none of that here.

You'll see a clerk come up to you and after you tell him what you want to buy, he'll take five or six packages off the shelf for you. The wrapping paper is torn off, and a dazzling light suddenly appears in front of you. The dragon robe is made of this material. Seeing the glittering, brightly colored brocades, velvets, and satins piled up in front of you, you will feel dazzled, just like a group of colorful butterflies emerging from their cocoons and flying in front of your eyes. You have chosen what you want, and the glorious scenery fades into darkness again.

This is China!

Her beauty is those antiques and monuments that embody the most noble thoughts and the artistic pursuits of nobles of all ages. These ancient things, like their owners, are slowly declining,< /p>

This high gray wall facing the street is imposing and daunting. But if you have the right key, you might be able to step into that elegant courtyard. In the courtyard, the ancient square bricks pave the floor, which have been worn down by hundreds of years of foot traffic. There is a tangled pine tree, a pond of goldfish, and a carved stone bench. Sitting on the bench is an elder with white silk hair, dressed in a white silk robe, with a solemn appearance, like an eminent monk. In his pale, withered hand was a polished black wood pipe with silver on the top. If you have a friendship, he will stand up, bow deeply, and accompany you into the upper room with impeccable etiquette. The two of them were sitting on tall carved nanmu chairs, sipping fragrant tea; the ancient silk scroll paintings hanging on the wall will make you marvel, and the carved beams and paintings in the sky will tempt you to wander too far. Beauty, beauty everywhere, antique, subtle and elegant.

My thoughts brought me to a temple again. Although the living room of the temple is spacious, it is a bit dark. There is a small open space in front of the living room, which is bathed in sunshine all day long. There is a flower bed made of blue bricks in the open space. Over the years, the color of the bricks has almost faded. Every spring and bright weather, huge reddish buds sprout out of the flower beds. When I visited in May, the sun was shining brightly and the peonies were in full bloom, with bright reds and pinks turning into a ball of fire. Milky white flowers bloom in the center of the flower bed, and the light yellow flowers are really beautiful. The flower bed is exquisitely shaped, and guests can only appreciate its beauty from the darkness of the room. At this time and place, what else can I ask for? What do you think?

I know that some families have ancient paintings and bronzes in their collections. There are also ancient embroideries. When these things were born, no one thought that there would be any America. Their history may be as old as the treasures of the ancient Egyptian pharaohs!

Some sad things have happened in the changing China. Some ignorant young people, either forced by poverty or careless, learned to exchange these cultural relics for money. These antiques are truly priceless national treasures and art treasures of extremely high aesthetic value. They are not worthy of private possession by any individual, but should only be collected by the state. But they can't understand this yet!

Foreign countries have committed various crimes against China, and one thing that cannot be ignored is the plunder of China’s beauty. Those impatient antique collectors, adventurers who traveled all over the world, and the bosses of major trading houses plundered countless treasures from the treasure house of Chinese beauty. This was really a robbery of an ignorant man, because he did not know that what he thought could be sold for thirty silver dollars should not be sold at all.

In addition, many of China’s younger generation seem to be immature in their thinking, and their performance is shocking. Since they doubt the past and abandon tradition, they inevitably abandon the unparalleled works of art of old China and snap up many crude and cheap Western goods to hang in their homes. Many of the characteristics of this country are what we love, but now who will inherit China’s classical beauty? How to solve the inevitable degradation caused by blind worship of foreign countries? Could it be said that as people abandon tradition, we must also lose the brackets and cornices of temples?

But I always feel gratified: there must be some people who inherit all those ancestors who love beauty, pursue beauty with the passion of a master and bring it to a more peaceful era.

A few days ago, I went to the studio of a famous Chinese modern painter. My heart sank when I looked at the advertising paintings, the clichéd portraits of muscular girls and the poorly colored pictures of sunsets over the sea - a bunch of shoddy oil paintings! But in an inconspicuous corner of the studio, I found a small watercolor painting. It was a village alley, filled with light blue fog in the summer dusk, with some silver-gray diagonal lines crossing the screen. A faint candlelight flickered from the window of a cozy little house.

A lone man walked alone holding an oil umbrella, his swaying figure cast on the wet rocks.

I turned around and said to the painter: "This is the best painting."

His face suddenly became clear.

"Do you really think so? I think so too! These are the streets and lanes of my hometown that I used to see every day, but," the painter sighed, "I painted them for fun. The painting cannot be sold."

If I had to find a flaw in the beauty of China, I can only say that it is too secluded and elegant, and most common people rarely enjoy it. This beauty originally belongs to them. , but those princely families or religious groups took it as their own, and many people were unable to obtain aesthetic knowledge and therefore were unable to fully enjoy the joy of life. For hundreds of years, those extremely poor and uneducated people could only be born and die silently, indifferent to the indescribable and overwhelming beauty. The pursuit of beauty has become the privilege of the aristocratic society and the leisure class, while the poor think that it is just a pastime of the rich and has nothing to do with them.

Ordinary Chinese people need to cultivate their aesthetic taste and discover the beauty around them that needs to be discovered. Once he understands the meaning of beauty, once he realizes that beauty does not exist at all in those disgusting lithographs that cost four corners, or even in those priceless treasures of rich people, once he realizes that beauty is Existing in their courtyard, waiting for him to discover it from the mess caused by carelessness and laziness, a new spirit will spread in this beautiful land.

Although the millions of people here who are struggling in poverty have been working hard all day long for a mouthful of food, I know that no matter what, people cannot live on plants alone. What we need most is the beauty that everyone can enjoy freely - the shadows of the clear pond, the graceful flowers, the fresh air, and the lovely nature.

A few days ago, I told my Chinese teacher this idea, and he said casually: "A person with a solid warehouse knows etiquette, and a person with enough food and clothing knows honor and disgrace."

I think so.

However, I believe my gardener had a good meal last night. At that time, he was working happily on the lawn. I sat under the bamboo bushes and meditated. Suddenly, a strange brilliance woke me up from my meditation. I looked up and saw the gorgeous sunset burning in the western sky, which made me fascinated.

"Oh, look!" I shouted.

"Where is it? Where is it?" the gardener shouted, grabbing the hoe handle tightly.

"There. Look at how beautiful the color is!"

"Oh, no!" the gardener said in disgust, bending down to mow the lawn. "You shouted so loudly, I thought a centipede crawled on you!"

To be honest, I don't think that beauty should be based on filling your stomach. No matter how many gourmets you are, it's just foodie. Furthermore, if what my Chinese teacher said is absolutely correct, how do I explain the following situation? The old and deaf Mother Wang, one of the more pitiful among the poor widows, worked hard all day sewing clothes for others to get food for herself. However, the chipped bottle on her table had been filled with something all summer long. She got the flowers from nowhere. When I forced her to give her a green digestion, she actually shed tears of joy.

And the little tobacco shop. The old shopkeeper, who had lost all his teeth, was happily tending to an unknown flower in his pottery pot all day long. The farmer outside my yard lets a field of hollyhocks grow naturally around the house. There are also those "wild kids" on the street who often shyly put their faces on my door and ask me for a bouquet of flowers.

No, I think the seeds of love for beauty can be sown in every child's heart. Although a life of hardship sometimes kills it, it is immortal, and sometimes it thrives in the hearts of those who meditate. For these people, even if they live in the palace and enter the palace with the Yellow Emperor, they will never die. Dinner is far from life's greatest pleasure. They know that they will never be satisfied unless they somehow find beauty, the highest level of life.