Editor’s Note
by Yang Haocheng (杨昊成)
Featured Author: Ye Mi (叶弥)
Bright Moon Temple (《明月寺》)
Snowflake Meditation (《雪花禅》)
Mount Xianglu (《香炉山》)
Critique
The Enlightened Way of Fiction by ZhangXuexin (张学昕)
Interview
An Interview with Ye Mi by Jin Ying (金莹)
Culture Heritage
The Essentials of Chinese Calligraphy byYang Haocheng (杨昊成)
Echoes of Classics
Introduction to Laozi and His Daodejing byBill Porter<p>Editor’s Note </p> <p>by Yang Haocheng (杨昊成)</p> <p>Featured Author: Ye Mi (叶弥)</p> <p>Bright Moon Temple (《明月寺》)</p> <p>Snowflake Meditation (《雪花禅》)</p> <p>Mount Xianglu (《香炉山》)</p> <p>Critique</p> <p>The Enlightened Way of Fiction by Zhang Xuexin (张学昕)</p> <p>Interview</p> <p>An Interview with Ye Mi by Jin Ying (金莹)</p> <p>Culture & Heritage</p> <p>The Essentials of Chinese Calligraphy by Yang Haocheng (杨昊成)</p> <p>Echoes of Classics</p> <p>Introduction to Laozi and His Daodejing by Bill Porter</p> <p>Selections from Daodejing</p> <p>Short Stories</p> <p>Wealth, Blessings and Longevity (《福禄寿》) by Pang Yu </p> <p>(庞羽)</p> <p>Prose </p> <p>Bluestone Alleys (《青石小街》) by Fei Zhenzhong (费振钟)</p> <p>Rain in the Old Village (《古村的雨》) by Fei Zhenzhong </p> <p>(费振钟)</p> <p>Poems</p> <p>Poems by Hu Xian (胡弦)</p> <p>Art</p> <p>Coffee Pot or Water Jug? by Shen Li (沈黎)</p>显示全部信息免费在线读Bright Moon Temple
Ye Mi /叶 弥
Translated by EllaSchwalb
In springtime, when the sunshine was goading all kindsof flowers to struggle into bloom, I slung my backpack over my shoulder andleft home. I wanted to go see
the blossoms. Theseason was sure to lose its pristine sparkle in two weeks’ time—many flowerswould start to wilt on their branches, and petals would fall to the dust indroves. So I wanted to take it all in before the spring turned dull and dirty,to see how the flowers blossomed. Once this moment passed, would there beanything left blooming for me to see?
My aim was simple. I squinted in the sun as it shonedown on my face, and then I leisurely set out, heading south.
I got to some mountains after a while. Peach blossomsstretched as far as the eye could see, and the earth and sky were all floodedwith sun as the sweet wind drifted by above the flowering trees. In the soft,warm chuckle of that all-pervasive
sunshine, I ceasedto exist, my steps light and buoyant as though I were the sun’s own two feet.
I was walking along when someone behind me said,“Heythere, where are you headed?”
I turned around and saw a swarthy old villager with astick-straight back walking behind me.
“I’m taking a springtime walk,” I said.
I hung back a bit, and the old man caught up to me.