Late at Night I Lie Listening to Wind-Blown Rain; Armored Horses and Icy Rivers Enter My Dreams
“A sudden downpour and a chill erode every patch of scorching earth in this city.” 8869373-af9b8bbb79f3afbf The weather forecast said there would be a tropical storm lately, so this weather has been unsettled, overcast then clear, back and forth. The late-summer sun, with what little heat it has left, is still resisting the invasion of cold air, like a stubborn person unwilling to grow old. The rain’s repeated baptisms have, unsurprisingly, carried away the last season’s exasperating heat. Stubborn things, in the end, still lose to time. 8869373-f9155bffc457b688 I had wanted, on a certain
“A sudden downpour and a chill erode every patch of scorching earth in this city.”

The weather forecast said there would be a tropical storm lately, so this weather has been unsettled, overcast then clear, back and forth. The late-summer sun, with what little heat it has left, is still resisting the invasion of cold air, like a stubborn person unwilling to grow old. The rain’s repeated baptisms have, unsurprisingly, carried away the last season’s exasperating heat.
Stubborn things, in the end, still lose to time.

I had wanted, on a certain clear night, to photograph some stars and catch a glimpse of the night sky’s lovely face, yet the heavens have never been kind, and even the moon is hard to see.
Still, it’s all right—a pure sky is quite beautiful too, clean and spotless.
The title quotes a poem by Lu You. In fact, on a night of heavy rain, just as I lay down, this line of verse surfaced in my mind. Though we are in different situations, and the historical backgrounds are vastly different, the state of mind is subtly similar. At the time, though Lu You had no way to serve his country and was deeply worried about its future, he still clung to the ideal of recovering lost territory and remaining loyal to the nation; nearly a thousand years later, I too am on a rainy night, likewise striving on the path of pursuing a dream, a path overgrown with thorns, and I can understand this kind of persistence that no wind or rain can stop.
The reason I like classical poetry is that when you read the verses, in just a few short lines, you can suddenly find resonance. As Wang Xizhi wrote in the Preface to the Orchid Pavilion Collection: “Though times and circumstances differ, the reasons that stir the heart are one and the same. Those who read this in later ages will also be moved by this writing.” No matter how the times change,
the reasons people are moved to feeling, and their thoughts and sentiments, are much the same.
_EOF_
Late at Night I Lie Listening to Wind-Blown Rain; Armored Horses and Icy Rivers Enter My Dreams
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