The original text of "Climbing Mount Tai in the Rain" is as follows:

Looking at Mount Tai from a distance from the train, there have been many times in the past few decades. Every time I think of the phrase "Confucius climbed Mount Tai and made a small fortune, but climbed Mount Tai and made the world a small place", I feel like I owe a debt to a long-standing cultural tradition. Du Fu's wish: Climbing Mount Tai in the rain "once climbing to the top of the peek, one would see, the other mountains all appear dwarfs under the sky.", I also have it, but I miss it face to face every time.

Now it's really time to climb Mount Tai, but the weather is not beautiful, and it starts to rain, like falling on the ground, but in my heart. The sky is gray and the heart is heavy. We made an appointment to leave early in the morning, and everyone was here, but it rained harder and harder. Wait till it clears up? Thinking about this vague word "wait", I feel depressed at first. Looking forward to half past eleven, when the sky turned white, I couldn't help shouting, "Let's go!" Drive the young people, take up their backpacks, and set off for Daizongfang Arch in high spirits.

We can't tell whether it's smoke or fog, but it's gray, and the boss's mountain is wrapped up and down. The ancient Mount Tai looks more and more Cui Wei. We just passed Daizongfang Arch, and the deafening roar attracted us to the front of the dam of Hushan Reservoir. Seven floods jumped out of the bridge hole of the reservoir, like seven flashing yellow brocade, and went straight down, touching the jagged rocks, stirring up a piece of snow-white water droplets, which were scattered on the swirling water surface. It's called Qiuzai Bay: It is said that Qiuzai has already been crossed to the sky by Lv Dongbin, but looking at it, it seems that Qiuzai has returned to his former residence.

We bypassed the Tiger Mountain and stood on the dam bridge. On one side, there was calm lake water, facing the oblique wind and drizzle. Lazy, we just wanted to move forward, but on the other side, we were angry and arrogant, like a thousand troops hiding under the beautiful yellow brocade. Huang Jin is a convenient metaphor. In fact, it is a spun yarn with a delicate pattern without warp and weft. The transparent white yarn gently presses the transparent beige pattern. Maybe only the Weaver Girl can weave this magnificent scenery.

It's raining heavily, so we turn into the Seven True Temples behind the Queen Mother Temple. There are seven statues here, with Lv Dongbin in the front, his friends Tie Guai Li and He Xiangu on both sides, and his four disciples on the east and west sides, so it's called the Seven Zhenci. Lv Dongbin and his two friends are just fine. The two children standing in the niche and the old man opposite the willow tree essence are really rare and vivid works. Generally, the statues of temples are either flat or grotesque, with occasional beautiful shapes, and unlike China people, they can't keep up with the old man's vividness and kindness. Unknown sculptors have a deep understanding of the differences in age and appearance, and the image will be so vivid. It's not the young people who remind me that it's time to go, but I will continue to appreciate it.

We came to the rainy land, embarked on the right way to climb the mountain, and passed through three stone workshops in succession: Tianmen, the place where Confucius boarded and day order. The sound of water fell behind us, and the majestic red gate blocked the mountain. Walking out of the long doorway, we were suddenly enlightened and the mountain came to us again. People go up, the water flows down, and flows into the middle stream of Hushan Reservoir to accompany us until Ertianmen. The cliff is rugged, the crevices are dripping, the spring water and rain water are mixed together, and flow into the mountain stream along the slope, and the trickle of water becomes the thunder. Sometimes when the wind blows through the clouds, I see the Nantianmen at the bottom, shadowy and towering over the hill, as if it were not very far away; The tight eighteen plates are like a gray python, crawling in the middle of the gorge; More often, dark clouds and mountains have become ink landscapes. We can't walk too far across the shallow water in the middle stream, which is the famous stone valley. A flood overflows a big stone flat with the size of an acre. The bare stone is engraved with a Diamond Sutra, which has a big word. After a long time, most of it has been flattened. Back to the right path, I don't know when the rain has stopped, and people are sweating all over, eager to take off their raincoats and cool off. Coincidentally, we just walked into a cypress forest. It was gloomy, and the dawn turned black again. It seemed that dusk came to the world ahead of time, and the sweat not only went down, but also made us feel cold. No wonder people called it the cypress cave. We walked past the Hutian Pavilion and climbed Huangxian Ridge with great energy, and found that the sand and stones were all reddish yellow, and we understood why the water in Zhongxi was yellow.

leaning against the stone workshop in Ertianmen and looking around, I am both proud and worried. I'm proud that I've walked halfway up the mountain road, and I'm worried that I can't walk the other half. The clouds thinned and the fog came up again. Let's take a break, take a break, and it's already past four o'clock in the afternoon. The difficulty doesn't seem to exist. There is a flat downhill dirt road in front of my eyes. The young people jump and walk, and I am talking and laughing like a young man, following them.

unconsciously, we turned from downhill to uphill, and the mountain was steep, and the rising slope was getting bigger and bigger. The road has always been wide and tidy. Only when I lean out, do I know that I am standing at the edge of an unfathomable ravine. There is water obviously, but I can't hear the sound of water. Looking up to the west, I saw a white belt two feet wide hanging in the air, swinging with the wind, trying to get a closer look, but I couldn't walk through the vast ravine. We were full of praise and found that we had come to a stone bridge. We didn't know what was going on, and the drizzle wet our body. It turned out that we met another type of waterfall, which clung to the back of the bridge. We didn't watch out and almost ran into it. The surface of the water is two or three feet wide, and it is not high from the ground. It sends out a torrent of dragons and tigers, hitting the grotesque stones under the bridge and spraying foam far away. Since then, the mountain stream has turned from the left to the right, and the sound of water has followed us to the worse.

After crossing Yunbu Bridge, we began to climb the main peak of Mount Tai. The worse gate should be near, but due to the twists and turns of the gorge, it can't be seen. Wildflowers and weeds, in all shapes and colors, are crowded with each other. Sandy is vast, and it is necessary to dress up the rocks of Xianyan. Even I am a little older, like a child, and I pinched it until the flowers and leaves were all faded, and then I threw it into the mountain stream with regret and drifted away with the water. However, it is the pine trees that "suck the green glow and die" that bring people's hearts to a lofty realm. They are not afraid of the heights of mountains, stick their roots in the crevices of cliffs, twist their bodies like panlong pillars, spread their branches and leaves in mid-air, as if they were competing with strong winds and dark clouds to climb Mount Tai in the rain, and as if they were playing with the breeze and white clouds. Some pine trees look through the autumn water, but they don't see you coming. They go up to the heights alone and look sideways.

Some pine trees are like a big dark green umbrella, waiting for you. Some pine trees enjoy themselves and show a natural and unrestrained appearance. In any case, they all make you feel that they are the natural owners of Mount Tai, and whoever is missing seems like it should not be. Fog is floating in the gorge of Songshan Mountain, and the sky is getting dark. I don't know how many stone steps I've climbed, one after another. It's fun and bitter. It seems that I've been climbing mountains since I was alive. I've only walked eighteen sets slowly. I leaned against Shengxian Square, looked up and looked up, and the eighteen plates were like a long ladder, which was set at the entrance of the worse gate. I'm afraid. The newly built stone steps are too narrow to hold the whole foot. No wonder Ying Shao of the Eastern Han Dynasty described it like this in "The Rite of Mount Tai": "Looking up at the Tianmen Mountain and the Liao Dynasty is like looking up at the sky from the cave, going straight up seven miles, relying on its winding path, which is often called the ring road. There are often two followers holding each other's hands, and later generations seeing the predecessors stepping on the bottom, and the predecessors seeing it. An old man, leaning sideways, rushed in front of us. An old woman, carrying a sachet, walked past us steadily despite her small feet. As Ying Shao said, I "followed my eyes without following my feet", grabbed the iron handrail, grabbed the young man, walked a dozen paces and took a breath. Finally, at seven o'clock in the afternoon, I went to the worse gate.

My heart is still beating, my legs are still shaking, and people are finally coming up. Looking down at the new but extremely long track, I was surprised that I could come up. I am walking in the street, relaxed and happy, like an innocent person. A row of overnight shops, with no names, only signs, some with a hedge hanging at the door, some with a pair of parrots, some with a wooden stick, some with a golden bull, a spacious tea table, and only a few kangs in a narrow place, with the back wall clinging to the towering rocks and the front face facing the abyss. Don't be in a row. And those stones. The ancient poets described Mount Tai and said "Mount Tai rocks", and the annotator told you: rocks and rocks are the appearance of accumulated stones. Indeed, the top of the mountain gives you this feeling more and more. Some stones are like lotus petals, some are like elephant heads, some are like old people, some are like crouching tigers, some are scattered into bridges, some stand upright like columns, some are sideways exploring the sea, and some are glaring at each other. Some are like nothing, dark and motionless, blocking your way. Years have passed, and there are many legends. Dengfengtai allows you to imagine the grand occasion of emperors worshiping mountains. There will be a stone tablet in a bare place, which indicates that Confucius is in the world. Some mountain pools are called shampoo basins. It is said that Jade Maid always washes her hair here. Some caves are called Baiyun Cave. It is said that white clouds used to go out, but now they don't, and they still swim around in the mountains. On a sunny day, you are enjoying the "vast greens stretch across Qi and Lu, the two lands high.". Suddenly, a gust of wind comes, "colorful clouds lave? my bosom free and easy", and in a flash, as Song Zhiwen said in "Three Days in Guiyang", "There are four boundless clouds". Is it a cloud? There's another cloud on my head. It seems that it is snow, or it is also a pile of cotton wool, high and low, continuous, and has always turned the horizon into a seaside. So the sun passed by, and the silver Tao in the sea of clouds was like gold plating, and it was like a fire, burning to ashes, and I didn't know where to go, revealing the face of the earth. Two white lines, winding, are the Sese River and the Wenhe River. A black dot moves in the middle of the green pattern, like an ant, and emits a wisp of smoke. You are telling me what to do, gossiping, and both the virtual image and the real image disappear in the fog for a while.

we didn't see the wonders of the sunrise. That's in the crisp autumn. However, we also have our own unique pleasure: the waterfall we saw in the rain went down two days later, and it was not so magnificent. The small waterfall disappeared and the big waterfall became smaller.

We walked along Xixi, over mountains and mountains, through the apple orchard with fragrant fruit, and stayed near Heilongtan for a long time. If we didn't have to catch the train this afternoon, we would have stayed. Mountain and water are different styles here, changing and harmonious. A mountain without water is like a man without eyes, which seems to lack spirituality. We dare to climb Mount Tai in the rain, see the sound and powerful flying springs flowing, and when it rains cats and dogs, we just hide in the Doudou Palace. We have fun in the rain without suffering from dripping, so naturally we feel particularly interested.

The appreciation is as follows:

Have you visited the famous mountains and rivers of the motherland? The roaring and rushing Yangtze River and Yellow River, and the majestic three mountains and five mountains, gave birth to the ancient civilization of our Chinese nation. When we think of them, our national pride will fill our hearts.

among all the famous mountains, the five mountains are the most. Which five mountains are there? Mount Taishan in Dongyue, Hengshan in Nanyue, Huashan in Xiyue, Hengshan in Beiyue and Songshan in Zhongyue. What about the length of the five mountains? Also in Mount Tai. Mount Tai has the potential to rise to the sky and hold the sun high. Many literati have written poems and eulogized, and Du Fu's five-character ancient poem "Looking at Yue" is one of them. Throughout the ages, there are many descriptions of climbing Mount Tai, but not many "climbing Mount Tai in the rain". Things are rare and precious, and literature wins with wonder. Scholar Wang Keyu believes that Li Jianwu's Climbing Mount Tai in the Rain < P > not only describes the unique charm of Mount Tai in the rain, but also records the unique interest of climbing in the rain. Let's follow the author's footsteps, enjoy the charm of Mount Tai in the rain, and share the harvest of climbing in the rain with the author.

The first two paragraphs in "Climbing Mount Tai in the Rain" are the first part, which describes the reasons for climbing Mount Tai in the rain. Paragraphs 3-9 are the second part, writing about climbing Mount Tai in the rain; The tenth and eleventh paragraphs are the third part, writing the feeling of "climbing Mount Tai in the rain". The article starts with "I missed the opportunity to climb Mount Tai many times in the past decades". At first glance, it seems to be a little far from the point. If you think about it carefully, the more times you miss the opportunity, the stronger your desire to make up for it. The writer used a very apt metaphor to describe this mood; "It's like owing a long-standing cultural tradition-a debt." How can you not repay a debt? In the second paragraph, the opportunity finally came, "it happened that the weather was not beautiful"; A "unluckily", the feeling of eagerness is vividly on the paper. The raindrop "dripped" and kept raining. "It doesn't seem to fall on the ground, but it seems to fall in my heart", and "waiting" is "slim". "Looking forward to half past eleven" finally cried out, "Let's go!" "These words describe the author's anxiety, longing and uncontrollable mood in a very delicate way. Climbing Mount Tai in the rain is both a rational choice and an emotional drive. The two paragraphs not only explain the reason of "starting in the rain", but also skillfully pave the way for struggling to climb in the rain. The third part contrasts the "grandeur" of the rainy scenery in the mountains with the "blandness" seen when going down the mountain after a rainy day, and points out that "climbing Mount Tai in the rain" and "having fun without dripping pain" are indeed "unique pleasures". All this comes down to a word "dare". "Dare to climb Mount Tai in the rain" can "have fun alone", otherwise, the opportunity will be missed and the "debt" will still not be repaid. In this arrangement, everything is natural, echoing from beginning to end, and the style is well versed. Most travel articles are structured in this way, which is worth imitating.

The author started from Daizongfang Arch-Hushan Reservoir-Qizhen Temple-Yitianmen-the place where Confucius boarded-day order-Changmendong-stone valley-Baidong-Hutiange-Huangxianling-Ertianmen-Yunbuqiao-Slow Eighteen Plates-Shengxianfang. In this paper, the method of "moving step to change scene" is mainly used to describe the scenery. The so-called "moving step" refers to the change of the observer's foothold; The so-called "changing scenery" refers to different landscapes, or the change of observation objects, or the change of distance and angle, and the same observation object will have different faces and postures. This method, which takes the change of the observer's foothold as a clue to describe the scenery seen, is commonly called "changing scenery". For example, the descriptions of many scenic spots from "Daizongfang Arch" to "Nantianmen" in the text are connected in series by the clues of the author's travels. The author walked and looked all the way, and described the various landscapes along the way in turn. It is precisely by using the method of "changing scenery". Another example is the "Tight Eighteen Plates", which is viewed from a distance ("like a gray python, crawling in the middle of a gorge"), and looked up from below ("like a long ladder, set at the entrance of the Nantianmen"), and even more accurately described before it (the stone steps are narrow and narrow, and there is no room for half a foot). Multi-angle description has left a three-dimensional impression on readers, giving people the feeling of seeing it with their own eyes.

About the author:

Li Jianwu (August 17, 196-November 24, 1982) was a China writer, dramatist, literary critic, translator and expert in French literature research. Shanxi Yuncheng people. Born on August 17th, 196. Father Li Mingfeng participated in the Revolution of 1911 and was assassinated by Beiyang warlords in 1919. Li Jianwu drifted with his mother in a foreign land since childhood. I have been studying in Beijing since I was 1 years old. In 1921, he joined the High School Attached to National Beijing Normal University. In the following year, he organized a literary group, Xi She, with his classmates, such as Jian Xian 'ai and Zhu Da-lai, and founded a literary publication, the supplement of Guofeng Daily, and began to publish novels and plays.