“Selected writers” walked in autumn, thinking of San Mao

Life does not lie in length, but in whether you live happily. Taiwan (San Mao) has been sunny for several days. The autumn is high and cool, with blue sky and white clouds. My mood is getting more and more cheerful. I go out for a walk after dinner every day, looking at the desolate wilderness, green trees and green grass, the blooming small wild flowers make me feel that life is so beautiful and cozy! In this way, I walked lonely on The Silent Village Road, listening to the chirping little insects singing softly, thinking of that month, suddenly a name appeared in my mind like a flash of lightning: Taiwan female writer San Mao. My heart twitched suddenly. From January 4, 1991, she ended her life with a silk stockings. It has been 21 years since Ms. San Mao died today, 21 years! She has only lived in the world for 47 years. The dead has gone away, and there are still several of us who remember her and this Taiwanese female writer who has accompanied us through our youth! I remember that in those years, I was in a period of youth and ignorance, eager to know the society, to have a hazy first love, and to ride a horse and gallop on the jianghu like people in martial arts novels, it is best to meet a handsome young man who goes to the end of the world together! Dream pursuit is a dream. Goethe once said that the young man doesn’t love it, and the young girl doesn’t cherish Spring? In the season of spring, the hormone secretion of love is too strong, and it is turbulent every day, but as a girl in the flower season, she can’t go anywhere. I can only confide my mind quietly in the notebook. It was in this depressed period that San Mao came into my life. The thin young male teacher who taught us Selected works often told me San Mao when we were reading novels. So driven by curiosity, I went to the library to borrow a novel about San Mao, which was out of control. The content in it deeply attracted me: San Mao’s prose was widely drawn, many proses are full of exotic atmosphere with simple, romantic and unique charm, expressing the author’s feelings of loving human beings, life, freedom and nature. I watched her stories of the Sahara, the crying camel, the rainy season never come again, the gentle night, how much do you know about the fallen flowers in dreams, the back, “My Baby” and so on. Especially her “the story of the Sahara” touched me most: the story inside is full of exotic atmosphere, and my thinking is jumping with San Mao’s prose, she seemed to take me into a magical place. For a girl who grew up in the Loess Plateau of Shaanxi, the desert was simply a fairyland on earth, where there were camels and mysterious Arabians, there are mysterious sausage methods and unique lifestyle. I feel that I am San Mao, walking alone in the vast desert! When seeing San Mao crawling behind the big stone peeping at the local enema, my curiosity was aroused at once! When San Mao found a camel skull in the desert, I seemed to find a big treasure myself. I love the love story between San Mao and her husband Jose most. This is a charming man who deeply touched San Mao’s heart and made San Mao give us so many full of laughter, happy works, I also followed San Mao in her marriage life happy, proud! They envied their husband and wife to sing and sing, and raised their eyebrows. Maybe I think like San Mao that they will go on happily forever until the end of their lives! However, it was such a happy person that everything came to an abrupt end with the unexpected death of her husband Jose’s diving. That happy, naughty San Mao disappeared, leaving you endless sorrow. During those days, my sky was dark every day. My San Mao had no beloved husband. She came here like this! Sadness was written on my young face. I felt as if I had fallen in love. I was lost in my mind every day. San Mao, I love you so much, so pure, you are my idol. At that time, many girls in the 316 dormitory were the most loyal fans of San Mao. The topic we talked about most every night was San Mao. When we talked late, the teacher who checked the dormitory shouted outside and turned off the lights, no talking. We turned off the light and chatted secretly. On Sunday, my friend Lily and I went to the bookstore to buy a book named Sanmao collected works and took it back to the dormitory for everyone to read. Ms. San Mao didn’t know how many girls were touched at that time! At that time, I just read San Mao’s novels and proses, and it was very vague about San Mao’s death. But one day, I occasionally read an article in memory of San Mao in a newspaper, in which the death of San Mao was described in detail, in the days when her husband left, echo walked out of that circle and ended her 47-year-old life with silk stockings! It was not until that moment that I realized clearly that my beloved San Mao had already left and went to another world to find Jose. My brain was blank, and the tears of Douda kept falling down. Although San Mao and I were thousands of miles away and I had never seen her, her novels made me feel that she was always alive, still writing us those happy travel notes and those exotic adventures. How could she leave like this? Moreover, I am reluctant to end my life in this way. I can’t figure it out. In those days, I was very sad and fell asleep with Sanmao anthology every day. Many years have passed, I have taken part in the work, but I still can’t forget San Mao. I bought myself a book “The story of the Sahara”. The Silent Night is slowly in the text, recalling the experience of San Mao again, I picked up the sad and happy past again, which was still so fresh. I seemed to see Ms. San Mao still smiling and smiling there! The memory of youth faded away slowly. In the light days, I would still think of my lady San Mao! Thinking of that ignorant youth, there was a Taiwanese female writer named San Mao, thinking of her “Love in a Fallen City”, the happy love between her and Jose, and her magical experience in the desert of the Sahara! Now there are many shadows of San Mao on me, funny and curious. I love walking in the arena and longing for love. I know that this is Ms. San Mao taking root in my heart. I still can’t forget her in this life, that magical woman named San Mao! Maybe I will walk along her road, maybe one day I will walk into the desert of the desert, find a camel bone, and I will dance with joy. Light faded down, my tears in my eyes, that’s in San Mao died 21 anniversary I for her flow, you in heaven far know? Once there was a Shaanxi girl living in Loess Plateau who was so obsessed with you and loved you in her marrow! Sister San Mao, can you see it in heaven? Are you happy with Jose over there? I think you must be very happy, otherwise how can you leave us? I wish you a happy life there! 21 years have passed, you must have many sweet times! Then cherish it! Bless you! Love you! You left gently, leaving sadness all over the floor! My eyes filled with tears tonight! Goodbye, sister San Mao! Happy every day! Like (prose editor: Ke Er) the snow in spring Spring elimination snow, multi-the yao nian, unspoken. Reading from afar, it is just above that snowfield. The snow is really beautiful, after all it is spring… Waiting Waiting is a kind of persistence, sticking to a certain belief and never giving up. Maybe because of a certain commitment, or because of a certain… Be good at listening to different voices and opinions On October 6th, I published a travel essay: “beautiful autumn scenery”, which was obtained by many literary websites… Read The Bridges of Madison County “When the white moth spreads its wings, you can come to me at any time”. 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