He said:
“In early winter, I took a walk in front of the courtyard and watched the snow. The snowflakes falling down delicately, like jade shavings covering the corners of the blue tiled eaves. Suddenly smelling a faint fragrance, it turned out to be a few dried plums in the corner of the wall, with ice crystals condensed on their petals, carrying the coolness of moonlight. When the flower shadows sway, they have their own grace and radiance. So I folded a branch and went back to the study, inserting it into the porcelain vase.
Sitting alone at my desk, I think of the peach blossoms in spring and the lotus flowers in summer, none of which can compare to the plum blossoms in the snow and ice. It quietly opens and quietly withers, enjoying this tranquility alone in the cold winter. This kind of aloof sentiment cannot be understood by those flowers and plants competing for spring beauty. So I spread out the paper and painted.
Dusk gradually fills the window, and the plum shadows in the painting and the plum branches in the bottle complement each other, leaving a warm feeling in the heart. Originally, in the coldest and most ordinary places of heaven and earth, there is a true sense of interest hidden within.”
Reviews
There are no reviews yet.