Invisible city ■ Entertainment Hangzhou Foreign Language School (walking to Peking University) "Kublai Khan noticed that the cities in Kyle and Polo are almost the same, as if you can move from one city to another without traveling by changing the combination elements." When Icano Calvino wrote this sentence, this sentence, despite my arrogance, was tired of this city, just like an eternal prophecy, which covered us tightly. One hundred years later, we live in a highly urbanized era, with modern attributes flowing in our blood. We moved from this city to that city, and then moved from that city to further places. This endless migratory bird cycle always ends in the same ending-rusty thoughts and youth are abandoned by reality again and again and strangled in a room in the reinforced concrete jungle. The city, still a monotonous building block, stands in a cold form. Are we too busy? It is the fear of the city, climbing and fleeing in horror on the modern civilization of the inverted triangle; It is the desire of the city that fights fiercely in the splendor of gold and jade; In Baudelaire's works, the cruelty of the city is silently queued. No one, no one here, to touch any city, invisible corner. The invisible city is the pulse of the city. Kyle once moved to say that Zobede's streets, like white wool, also support the residents' real dreams of looking forward to the future; I personally felt that the gurgling sound of small bridges and flowing water in Old Town of Lijiang is also telling the Millennium peace of water and soil here. Faced with these vivid exceptions, do we not know what we are losing, or do we already know? The invisible city is the dream of the city. The infinite dream may make all the population and GDP meaningless, and the touch of the city is not unified by independent individuals. In my dream, London is just a red flag in Trafalgar, new york is just a hanging day in Manhattan, and Hangzhou is just a scene of thousands of people working hard before a rainstorm in June. The invisible city is the true feelings of the city. This truth has been frozen by complex relational banks for too long. Once released, it will reach every corner of the city irresistibly-this antenna is a longing for love, a longing for true knowledge and an irresistible sympathy for human suffering. Just like facing the fragmented city, we shed tears. At this moment, Beichuan has a significance beyond geographical coordinates and has become a standing monument. Invisible cities can be touched at any time. To go back to our past or find our future, please touch. I am a person who grew up in the city. I am used to seeing many tall buildings in my field of vision. I like to see the colorful night scenes of this city. When I walked through those commercial streets, I was proud of the city in my heart. But when I knock on the keyboard, I often feel the clicking sound of wheat ears under the harvester. It's fuzzy. It's the sound of memory. Click click ... it's the rhythmic sound of the train on the tracks. From far, far away, come here. When I was a child, I often took the train and went to many distant places. In order to reach the city, we crossed countless villages. Outside the window are golden wheat fields, tall wheat piles in the fields, docile cattle and sheep, simple and humble houses, and scarecrows guarding the wheat fields. Even, you can see the sunshine pouring on the petals of sunflower, and the petals tremble slightly, as if time flows from one piece to another in an instant. The countryside, like a distant image, exists in the stream of consciousness. Where the eyes can't reach, they are all done by imagination. Yes, those memories of the countryside, in Van Gogh's paintings and in distant songs, have become confused and more and more idealistic. The song sings melodiously: whatever can't be reached is called far away, and what can't be returned is called hometown. In my dream, I found that the countryside is the hometown that people have forgotten in the distance. Looking back, the countryside is the place where people can get closest to the earth. For thousands of years, simple people, with their backs to the sun, have completely delivered their most loyal beliefs and simple feelings to this land. Milan Kundera said in The Unbearable Lightness of Life that the closer our life is to the earth, the more real it is. The attachment to the city and the infatuation with the countryside are always entangled in people's blood. People are exposed to the city and the fast-paced life every day, but the city brings them disappointment and strangeness every day. When they are tired, they always yearn for the countryside, hoping to feel all the primitive and simple things there. The countryside gives them a sense of security that they can be close to the earth. However, things are always changing, buildings are built in a unified style that is no longer consistent with wheat fields, and the curves of field paths become stiff. People look at the present countryside with a disappointed expression. Those pictures that disappeared in memory became eternal pains in the heart, and thus became places that people could never reach. In order to reach the countryside, now we not only have to pass through countless cities. A city can survive ■ Mao Mingchao Hangzhou Foreign Language School (walk to Peking University) Some people love mountains, some people love love the water, but I love cities. Among those who love cities, some love cities and some love towns-it doesn't matter to me. I love the soul of the city. Cities can also be personalized. Technology can give a city any appearance it wants, just as people can choose any clothes they like. But such a city is not real. I thought of Pascal. On the axis of time and space, cities and people disappear as a particle, but as Descartes said, "I think, therefore I am", if there is thought and soul, a city can also contain the whole universe. And the soul of the city is the people in the city. I forgot where I read this sentence: "My love for a city is directly proportional to the bookstore and history of this city." I totally agree. Gorky's words, "People who don't study have no soul", are still hitting me like thunder. Refusing to read and think, as Arendt pointed out, puts people under the pressure of natural attributes, is satisfied with material consumption, and becomes a slave to the inevitability of existence. Marx regards labor as a necessary condition for human beings, and I think reading and thinking are the only way for people to become citizens. How can a city be called a city without citizens? And history is the source of citizenship. Not the history of architecture, but the history of habit. A city exists because of its residents from the day it was born. The words and stories of residents, the laws they made, and the way they communicate with people constitute the blood of this city; Today, it has become a moral law and value judgment handed down from generation to generation, reflecting people's character. For example, northerners in China are bold and southerners are delicate; Another example is the romance and passion in Paris and the preciseness in Berlin, which are the indelible marks of a city's history. Writing here, I suddenly realized that it is not appropriate to touch the city. Touch is physical. In Hengdian or Hollywood, you can reach any city in the world. But this city is dead. The blood, life and soul of a city are people who are ignored by skyscrapers, cars and planes as particles. I love my hometown, so I feel him: his breathing and pulse are the same as mine. The Sichuan earthquake was so strong that it almost destroyed Wenchuan City. But the people in Wenchuan are still there, just temporarily leaving. As long as they choose to become citizens and continue to write the history of Wenchuan, the life of this city will still exist. A person who gives up reading and thinking will die, a city that forgets history will die, and Wenchuan is not dead yet. Feel the countryside ■ Li Xinxin The people in Hangzhou No.2 Middle School (walking in Peking University) are such strange animals, who always have infinite yearning for the unknown, so that they are willing to spend their whole lives for a completely different life. I have been to Xixi once, and one of the stops was to feel the primitive life of farmers. Like many poems praising the countryside, the words in the introduction always reveal faint joy and yearning. A wood-burning stove, a wooden crib, carved paper windows and even a simple wooden washbasin and washboard constitute the so-called pastoral dream. People give people a beautiful impression of "countryside" at will, and just take a few words from irrelevant poets, and turn the countryside into a place to send dreams-an unrealistic dream that I have been pursuing all my life. When "country people" stopped pouring into the city, people in prison city began to fantasize. Perhaps only the world of reinforced concrete is closed by unfounded yearning, and perhaps only people who think they are civilized are labeled as naive. So there are so many naive "city people" who yearn to spend most of their youth on transportation and buy a house for the elderly in the countryside. The busyness of the city squeezes out our thinking time. Country life is a castle that we build after working hard day and night. We only smile when we pass by. It's like a tenant visiting a property that may belong to him one day in the future, but forgetting to stop in a hurry and push the door with peace of mind. Why is the distance between the city and the countryside so far under the same starry sky? Is it because we have always been city dwellers, or because we have lived under an invisible glass dome since childhood? Or, just because it is a new word with no definite meaning, it can be tampered with at will without being questioned by the logic that only belongs to the city? We are just tired and bored. Perhaps our "country" is just an undisturbed holiday, a quiet moonlit night, and a life that is better for ourselves every day. So close. People in the city just want to follow the rhythm of the city, desperately consume their enthusiasm and youth, live up to themselves, and then create such a seemingly realistic but so distant dream. "Village" is actually so close, why should it be regarded as the ultimate reward?

Touching the city stands under the towering walls, and the fingertips touch the soft moss in the crevices. Here, a symbol of a city, the beginning of a city. A stream of air seeps into your fingertips quietly, which is civilization. In the bustling city, what we touch is the accumulation of civilization. Fingertips skim the flowing streets and touch the prosperous civilization. The rise of a city always begins with exchange and production. The prosperous Chang 'an in those days must have been the most glamorous city in the hearts of the Tang people. Li devoted his life's wisdom to every brick and tile in this city. The golden loess raised the dust of history and dispersed the shouts of vendors. Footprints of pedestrians and the kitchen fire danced with the smoke, leaving a string of tinkling sounds. The city has been preserved under the erosion of the long river of history, and it still retains the pride and prosperity of that peaceful period. The neon lights lit up the noisy sky, and the city, with its rich industrial civilization and 5,000 years of human wisdom, passed by. Fingertips pass through layers of buildings and touch the civilization full of hatred of Chou He. City, a word with a dull pain in the hearts of emperors in past dynasties. Today, urban construction can't erase the vigilance against hardship. The developed economy and huge population cast a gray veil over this quiet city. People will never forget the two destroyed Twin Towers in new york. Behind the Trojan wall is a Trojan horse full of jealousy and greed. There are unspeakable regrets and sorrows in Jingzhou House. Cities of past dynasties are full of national dignity. When Du Fu sang "Every Grass and Tree Meet Spring", he wandered in the once prosperous city. Only the city can bear the feelings of enriching the country and strengthening the people, and can pass through with the civilization of his home country in his heart. Fingertips convey bright lights and touch the civilization that has been passed down for thousands of years. City people may think, when this endless prosperity falls, what will be left? This is a civilization, just a civilization that will never go out. The Roman Empire lingered on the cusp of history for centuries and built the most luxurious city, but it was still lonely after all. The last emperor's name was romulus. Under the Saxon attack, he didn't give a single soldier a fight. No matter how prosperous a city is, it will eventually be lonely. The ancient cities of Pompeii and Loulan were also swept away by the yellow sand of history. However, these civilizations have survived, and we can't separate Rome from the Colosseum and Chang 'an from Tang poetry. This city has left a splendid civilization to history, passing through tall buildings and lights, and passing through streets and gardens. Civilization is like fog, covering every soil in the city, including meaningful wind, clear rain, fluttering snow and bright sunshine. History will take back the paved bricks, put out the flashing lights and distort the straight streets, but it will lovingly embrace civilization and put it into the treasure of history. Fingertips swept over the city walls, touching the breath of the city and the power of civilization. Feel cloud flying, the country where the wind sings, the hometown of vast mountains and rivers, and the paradise of flowing water. I always feel that the countryside is a beautiful place, with endless scenery and endless stories.

Feel the countryside and the beautiful scenery like flowers. Cooking smoke in the village is a constant yearning for thousands of years of wandering; Rivers around the village have protected the village for thousands of years; There is also the pine and bamboo jungle behind the village, the lake and Shan Lan in front of the village, and the touching folk songs in the countryside ... Feel the countryside and feel the remoteness and tranquility of nature; Feel the country, feel the ordinary and free life: work at sunrise, rest at sunset, knock chess pieces and get drunk by drinking tea. Feel the country life at will, ordinary but free and happy.

Feel the country, feel a good poem and a good article. Living in the countryside, I always feel that the Tang Dynasty is very close, the Han Dynasty is very close, and it seems that the seven sages of the bamboo forest are drinking not far away. Life in the countryside is a pot of broken gold, overflowing with the glory of the old dynasty. No, these are not enough. Feel the countryside and Lu Xun's long road, Zhou Zuoren's awning boat and Shen Congwen's phoenix folk song. ...

Feel the country, feel a calm temperament and a good personality. I always envy Wordsworth, not because of his wonderful poems, but because of his fifty years in the English Lake District. He felt the lakes and mountains for fifty years, which nourished his inner peace. Feeling the countryside, Wordsworth explained the essence of the countryside in his way.

Sometimes I think of Yang li Ping, a rural woman who grew up in rural Yunnan. She has the charm of flying skirt and absolute beauty. She holds up luna's honor with both hands and tells the story of two geese crossing their necks with both hands. Feel this country, feel the spirit of Yang li Ping, her truth, and the soul of that woman, absolutely beautiful!

Feel the countryside and the moment when Gao Min, the "diving queen", lit up the sky in Barcelona; Feel the countryside and the tough character forged by Doris Lessing from Zimbabwe; Feel the countryside, feel the soul of Xi Murong running freely between the white mountains and the black water; Feel the countryside, and feel the memory of the sunset in the countryside.

Feel the countryside, not only the countryside, but also the beautiful scenery, life, poetry, personality and surging soul! Looking back on the course of the years, I suddenly found that I couldn't get out of the roots of the countryside after more than ten years. In the deepest part of my memory, it is still the sunset in the countryside.

When the life in the countryside is getting farther and farther away in my memory, when the neon lights in the city make people "intoxicated and don't know where to go", and when the roar of machines crushes the bright moon and the breeze, I still hope that there is a voice calling in my dream, urging me to get out of the place where my dream began and feel the simplicity and nature of the country again.

Therefore, I am even more obsessed: feeling the countryside.

Feel the countryside

At first, I thought the countryside was a fairyland of fairy tales. It has faded away the glitz of the city and washed away the complexity of the world. It may be Al on Van Gogh's canvas, the blue sky as clear as a mirror, and the gorgeous sea of flowers as oil painting. Golden sunflowers, nourished by sunshine, have grown seeds of hope. It may be an idyll in Tao Qian's poems, which tells the story of a fairy couple in the fog. The oblique sunshine is light and leisurely.

It's just a village in poetry. When we really walk into the village and feel the village with our heart, we will find that our village is experiencing pain. There is also sunshine, which is not warm but viciously roasting the earth. Looking from a distance, the swaying figure on the earth is tired of its heart in the morning and evening, in spring and autumn. He grew up in this land, and his sweat nourished this land; He learned to be strong in this land, and his steps strengthened this land; He was born in the loess and returned to the loess, which has been endless for generations. When the storm came, his heart trembled like a swaying crop in the field, and tears crossed the cheeks of the ravine, drowning his heart and his breath layer by layer like water drowning the field. When the drought came, the crops shook like his thin body. He can't see hope and gain, and his confused eyes are dry and empty.

They are sometimes happy, but this happiness seems so humble. Their greatest happiness is a bumper harvest. Full particles are like gems, and the corners of the eyes smile like crescent moons. What they want most is good weather, and they just want to live an ordinary life.

Faced with such a picture, will such a country let us down? In fact, the countryside is more real because of this cruel beauty. Feel the countryside, don't always be a leisurely tourist. While appreciating its tranquility and purity, we should pay more attention to its pain and give it more understanding and sympathy.

Feel the countryside, feel the pulse of farming civilization, feel the most vigorous cry of China, feel the massiness of that land, and feel the blood and sweat of that land; Feel the most simple persistence and perseverance of farmers in China, and feel the pain and helplessness experienced by farmers in China.

When we looked at them with disdain, did it ever occur to us that they brought us hope for life with sweat and blood?

With the most humble attitude, we can see that China has become an eternal farmer in history, and let us feel the countryside with our heart!