by Bruce Yang
From afar looking at Cangshan Mountain the first time，I seated myself on a time-worn- away round rock on the edge of Erhai Lake, chewing a verdant waterweed，enjoying the gentle wind with a light mood，I lost myself in such a quiet and peaceful scene. Light green water kissed the nearshore rocks tardily, seeming liked the sportiveness between lovers，sometimes, in a more active way，and some water-drops ran to my trouser legs, dried by the sea wind very quickly.
How empty the surrounding was! And in this way, the world turned into quiet-because of her!
The Jagged ridges stands erect by the Erhai Lake, seeming like the strong backs of the stalwart warriors who are prostrating themselves in worship devotionally after just returning from a successful battle. Their spine stands out in sharp relief, with strong muscle on both sides, clear as a picture postcard. Nineteen ridges, nineteen backs, nineteen tall and strong mountains, their hearts are trembling this second, I believe, for the magnificent feat of protecting their own goddess. The ethereal mist filling the air, like the holy water of the goodness, gently comforts the tiring and strong muscle of these brave warriors. The lingering fondle is, as sweet as the moment when babies lie in mother’s arms, or as gentle as the moment when a girl nestles at her lover’s side at night, murmuring to him.
It was a dull nightfall when I approached the foot of the mountain. The thick fog diffused itself, then, the light mist tangled the green mountains, which, I imagined, must be the rainbow towards the fairyland, and I must be bathed in the goddess’ holy water. That was the first time when I stood on the Cangshan Mountain and looked into the distance the Erhai Lake affectionately. She’s so quiet, like a mirror, reflecting the shadow of the thick fog and the umbrageous sky. She seemed like an unfurled white canvas with grey and white colour, on which a painter would creat a unique masterpiece – The Epic of Love.
Facing such a dreamlike fairyland, I had some poetical association. The verses made by the great poetess， who stand in the bow and pondered “Ligustrum lucidum”，involuntarily occurred to me: Among those colorful kerchiefs waving in your sight , who, withdraws her hands suddenly, covers her eyes tight, till others scatter and leave her alone. Who, still stands in the bow, dressed in her flying dress, as the billowing clouds and waves, with the voice, loud and low, loud and low…
The solemn and quiet in the bleary view was so holy that refused to be disturbed. Without the accompany of the fiery red sunset and the clear and bright moonlight, she was sleeping in her veil, on which the shadow of the green mountains tended to embroider a work of art – the light veil became the tie-dye, and the maiden was no more than a maiden, who, defended by her guards, stepped into her dreamland at ease and became a deep sleep millennium soul. Beautiful dreams left beautiful sadness, from heaven to earth, from generation to generation.
Do afterlife and previous life really exist? If so, can we repeat doing the same things, falling in love with the same person? If not, why there’re some persons we meet the first time that we feel to have been acquainted before? So far and indistinct. If so, can the ups and downs in this life really bring about the smooth and steady afterlife? If not, why the unfortunate persons comfort themselves that the afterlife will be better? If so, can Rudbeckia laciniata and Ligustrum lucidum awake from their deep dreams? If not, why there are some people who like to look back and keep waiting for the coming thousands of years?
In the turbulent times, wife saw her husband leaving until he was out of sight. She could do nothing but leant over the railing, waiting, day by day, year after year, for the reunion with him. Warrior’s sweet smile flied across his face when he recalled the romance with his beloved, although lived with the fierce battles, far away from home, he kept expecting, expecting till one day, the sky falls, the seas went dry and rocks crumbled. But the wife and the warrior were still expecting and waiting, though both suffered a lot – we would start to sigh…
Rather than waiting on the rimrock for a long time, what about cry on your lover’s shoulder for only one night?
I repeat the words in my mind, again and again. Now, the so-called necessity is only something to kill the loneliness temporarily. Yesterday’s classical stories can only serve as a perfect foil to today’s plots, and the today’s “everlasting” turns to be tomorrow’s “once owned”. When the so called “everlasting” becomes “fast food”, and all the vows become a way of playing at each other, we may suspect , the poor watchman, who spends the whole life to wait for lover for a thousand years, but in vain, could only do nothing but sigh?
“Can a heart become a rock?”
Cangshan Mountain’s eternal waiting. Erhai Lake’s eternal deep-sleeping.
Beautiful dreams fill our beautiful life. Heart will never go with the wind, will never turn into a rock, instead, it can fly through the veil of time as the air, trembling for a thousand years, and it can stand erect as the rock, never be beaten down by the wind. Heart remains when long-time waiting on the rimrock, although we change as the society develops. Cangshan Mountain and Erhai Lake, true love exists eternally, from generation to generation.
Writer: Bruce Yang, The department of tourism of South China Normal University
Translator：Penguin Chen, The School of Foreign Study of South China Normal University
Chinese version coming soon in the next days.
