If you have a leisurely parade, if you want to take a walk in the zodiac, if you want Ran Ran to rise in the dreamland of blue season, cicadas will turn into butterflies and forget their unhappy selves. In short, if you are lucky, if you are unfortunately suffering from "stargazing", it will be a pity that you can't watch the myth market with me tonight.

My stargazing, what I believe in, is purely inaction. My eyelids crossed instantly, and at a glance, I shuttled back and forth, riding the wind, Ling Ran was good and Ling Ran was good. The original non-ancient teacher, if there are any reckless guest stars, I don't have to worry about adding hair to the emperor's belly augmentation. It's not a primitive ship, and it can identify the zenith of the North Pole without a crack in the foggy sea. There is no need to analyze spectra or fly satellites more than modern astronomers or astronauts. Science focuses on space, on the future of mankind, on the new colony of the moon, and on the incredible interstellar war between the earthlings and Martians. I study space, human past, astrology and astrology, priests' dreams and chiefs' superstitions.

So Dadu Mountain rose from the ground and lifted me to the stars, the morning light and the neon lights. The sun rules the clock world. But here, the night is still not over, and the lights are flashing outside the clock. The light families of trillions of tribes meet like a faint glow in the dazzling distance. Half a carat malachite. One seventh topaz fan pendant. One thousandth of a carat of blood. The diamond mine under Pangu axe can't be mined by astronomy. The Tianhe river is winding with sensitive nerves, head and tail touching, spreading high-speed and delicate touch. The star valves in the southern sky are brightly lit, and the first-class, second-class and third-class stars compete to show off their genealogy, from α to β to ζ to ω, strung so brilliantly, stumbling down and sweeping the southern horizon. The time-honored masquerade party, except for the charming comet, except for the meteor who loves to set off fireworks, except for the crescent moon hanging down from the black veil, all the names on the star map are lit up. Hou Yi's runaway wife saw this scene. Li Bai, the megalomaniac, and Li He, the masochist, saw this. Matteo Ricci and Xu Guangqi saw the same thing. Astrology is one of the most obscure wonders.

The stars in the northern sky are cold, like icicles with less sunshine. The most magnificent is the Big Dipper. This chess game is confusing and confusing. Since gossip, no one has moved a chess piece. From Shu Tian to Etta Ursa, eternal faces will never change. Before the chess game was over, the human beings who watched chess died from generation to generation. There is also a ladle, which can't be used to scoop wine. Poets have had this fantasy for a long time before saints. I think you are standing on the wall in the open north, with a long barrel handle leaning on a wide barrel, but you can't drink a drop of wine from an early poet. It was a naive era, when the saints were not born and the green cattle did not travel to the west. It was the Bronze Age, the boil of Yunmeng had not yet opened, ichthyosaurs obeyed Dayu's orders, and the flute players in Wucheng were not white-haired. It was an era of polytheism, an era in which Han people could sing, wild flowers and weeds and free love. Happy pre-Confucian era.

Under the sky, the optical network in Taichung is interwoven with the modern night. Wet red and flowing blue, on the other side of the boulevard, neon stems are bustling. At the foot is the unhappy post-Confucian era. If the phoenix doesn't come, the movie forest will disappear, and the dragon is just a trademark of tourism. Bashu dances in Longshan Temple. Saints are greedy for the wages of the country. Dragon species live abroad, and The Book of Songs and Crab travel into English. Who says the river is wide and a reed hangs on it? China Merchants has a tonnage of more than one reed, but the river is wide and the strait is shallow and isolated! Everyone says that Jiangnan is good, and tourists should stay in Jiangnan until they are old. Today people envy the ancients for being older than Jiangnan. Jiangnan can mourn, Jiangnan can mourn. Only Geng Xin's head is white in the north of Jiangnan, and ours is white in the south of Jiangnan. On the Jialing River, I listened to the partridge for eight years and thought about the lake and the oriole in Houhu after eight years. After fifteen typhoon seasons, the sound of partridges on the banks of Danshui River and Shujiang River is no longer audible. The emperor sent five sheep to summon spirits and recruited poets of the Northern Song Dynasty in Hainan Island. "The soul returns, and the south can't stop!" This is the south of China. It is very cold and not shallow. Yan Zhen went south to Hengshan Mountain. Girls studying abroad fly to the northeast, and flocks of peacocks fly to the northeast for the new world. There is a migratory bird that can only go back.

Anger flies away, and if its wings hang clouds in the sky, it will be nine Wan Li if it soars. The jet plane glides on the clouds, what a carefree parade! Once upon a time, we were also a big country, and all ethnic groups came to North Korea. The leader of our country, Su Wudian, was more or less a country. Chang 'an laid the foundation of new york in the eighth century, with camel teams from the west stepping on the soft hoofs of the world of mortals. Once upon a time, teenagers in Wuling actually washed dishes and served food, bearing the heavy shadow of skyscrapers. The beauties in Chang 'an, instead of going to Long Beach, were deeply immersed in the book city and compiled their youth into a catalogue of clothing books. When your lover has been renamed Mary, how can you give her a bodhisattva-level man? History is forgetful and embarrassing, and individuals have a sense of history. Thirty-six years old, always worried about chitose. A thousand years ago, the first emperor of the Song Dynasty had just ascended the throne, wearing a yellow robe, and a fragrant culture wanted to bloom. Europe hibernated in the depths of the Middle Ages, and Latin prayers were dreamlike. Knowing Korean bacteria is the saddest thing. Eight-part essay binding feet. Ah Q's braid. The poisonous atmosphere of opium. The concession is full of tragedy, and the concession is full. The favor of big countries turned into a supercilious look. There have been many anti-China movements in small countries. The fungus died, leaving behind a wetter fungus, but the darkness was still long and the night was still not over. The great empires of the East have perished one after another. Babylon is dead. Persia and India perished. Asia is littered with the remains of prehistoric behemoths, and the paradise of archaeologists is in ruins. There are ghosts in the south, 500 years old is spring and 500 years old is autumn. Fly, we have experienced the Spring and Autumn Period.

The night is as cold as a bath. Insects sing like tears. There are many light sources with broken wings on the nervous system of planetesimals. Twist Scorpio's poisonous tail hard and all the stars will cry. But that was just a temporary illusion. How high is the sky, and how can the arms of despair be questioned? Eternity is still shooting the password, and since the day of mending the sky and the day of slaughter, it has written the password that cannot be changed and cracked, the image of phosphorus! It seems to say: that's what it means. That's what Tianzhu means when the mountain is not inclined. Under the Great Wall, by the canal means this. This is what the big slaughterhouses in Yangzhou and Jiading mean. On the Lugou Bridge, in a cave in Chongqing, is that right? But flying against the wind, how is Ling Ran and Ling Ran? However, the peacock flew to the northeast. Is it a swim or is it difficult to go? Once, on the shore of Mississippi, in a typical university town, faced with unpleasant western food, we stopped to get a fork, and we couldn't eat without food. Once, standing in the wind on the shore of Lake Michigan, looking at the cold sun, the steel city of Chicago was blue with cold. The day is near Chang 'an and far away. The lost boy in the Five Tombs has a sour nose like Sichuan pickles. Once, on a sleepless winter night, I stood under the snowy starry sky and cried for my mother who had just died and her newborn child. But I never imagined that it was not the mother who died, but the ancient China, and the newborn was not a baby girl, but the May 4th Movement. The two-day flight carried a cloud, and the emotion flew over half a century. Always like this. After Songshan comes Tokyo, then Alaska, then Seattle. Above, I see the blue and deep sky, below, I see the green and restless water. Long winds and waves, Yun Fan can help the sea. It's hard to go. It's hard to go. On the other side of the sea, there is snow-covered homesickness, a deserted Christmas, an empty mailbox and an empty degree.

Yes, it's a hard time to go. Walking freely is just a legend of Fan Li. It is not easy to travel east, and it is even harder to return to the north. After the war, you can imagine how desolate the north and south of the Yangtze River are. On the eve of my second visit to China, I went to the Buddhist temple to worship the ashes of my ancestors under the tower shadow. In the memory of the rusty bronze bell, 200 bones relive the pain six years ago. Six years! I was buried in this Xiao Mu box for the first half of my life. I was born one year after Wang Guowei threw himself into the water. Attached to it are the years in the occupied areas, the years of anti-Japanese war, the years of invading the south, the memories that are hard to go, and the fantasy of carefree travel. The ten-year-old boy swallowed the bitter fruit of the country. Under the incense table of Gaochun Ancient Temple, I listened to the exclamations and sad cries of women and children all night. In the area where the Sun Flag and the guerrillas fought tug-of-war, they hid in the reeds of Taihu Lake during the day and rowed back to the shore after sunset, just to avoid the bite of sawtooth. When the ship sank into Taihu Lake, mother and son grabbed the foundation of Bao Dan Bridge to avoid drowning. Then there is the French Concession in Shanghai. Then there is the Chinese New Year at sea in Hong Kong. On the train on the Yunnan-Vietnam road, you can see the peach blossoms along the Fuliang River. Kunming is powerful. A steep mountain road. Mother and son bumped into two yellow croaker. Then there is the ferry of Haitang Creek, the reunion of Chongqing. The air raid at the full moon forced people to evacuate. So six years of middle school life began, and the sandals were worn out, on the bluestone road in Yuelaichang. Tearful anti-Japanese war ballads. Myopia textbooks and oil lamps. Under the faint tung oil lamp, I recited the newly recited ancient prose, dedicated it to my father who has not yet touched the temple, dedicated it to my mother who has tied the soles, and watered the autumn pool in Bashan with the sudden autumn rain on the tiles ... In the bell, dusk has come to the temple, and the black bat is flying nervously from the past days. This is the suburb of Taipei, and Guanyin Mountain has been lying and resting.

Vivid butterflies. Sure enough, Zhuang Zhou. Bashan rain. Taipei clock. Late rain. By the time I wiped my eyes and looked again, the three little girls had called me dad. The familiar is unfamiliar, and the unfamiliar becomes familiar. A thousand steps down the stairs, I have to complete the unfinished formalities of going abroad. There will be a long journey. In foreign countries, it will be more difficult to climb mountains. It is the farewell of Songshan Airport, the swan of Yu He River in Tokyo, the clouds in the Pacific Ocean and the yellow leaves in Chicago. Six years later, the cirrus clouds in the North Pacific are still rolling with the milky light of six years ago. The days in early autumn are getting higher and higher every day. Clouds in early autumn are whiter and lighter than each other. Cut it, and you should draw Tang Yin's fan and Du Mu's four unique skills. To let it fly is to let it fly. I think it's autumn, and the blue sky in the inland pasture stretches the horizon far and wide. On the loess Ye Ping in the north, it is the season of galloping horses and shooting sculptures. It's carved. Wild geese fall. Rustling red leaves fall from the maple forest. So this is Wujiang River, and it's blue with cold. So above, there are only a few infinitely long chutians left. Why is September again? On Mulan's boat, there should be a Chu guest singing "Autumn is crisp, and you are worried about traveling far away!"

Travel far. Travel far. At this moment, the autumn in another continent is much more beautiful. Blue sky. All melons in the yellow leaf land should be heavy and fat on the black land of Iowa. When the sunset in India matured, it rolled down from the window of a skyscraper. When the color gets on the elevator upstairs, someone upstairs will be sad. This skyscraper is thirty-six stories high. Which floor should I go to? Can you imagine that the highest floor cannot overlook Chang 'an? When I am homesick, I am pregnant with the mother of the mainland, the north in the Book of Songs and the south in Chu Ci! I'm dead. May the spring mud in the south of the Yangtze River cover me. I'm dead.

When I die. When I was born. When I wandered between the southeast and the heaven and the earth. The Yellow Scarf was followed by Dong Zhuo's fish-belly white, An Lushan's fish-belly white, red eyebrows, Huang Chao and Bai Lianhua. The red flame of the first emperor shouted: Long live the God of War! War burns time, burns us, burns your hair and burns our shoulders. When I die, the old man will hang a white beard, fight against the white beard that can't burn, and guard my grave. I have a big patient because I have a body. When I realize it, when I return to his wilderness, I will return to his mustard seed and his groundwater and clouds. But before that, I must shape history, shape my own granite surface, when time burns in my breath. When my 36-year-old is burning at this moment, burning at the tip of the pen, burning at creation. When I am singing wildly, the darkness should crawl and listen, and the darkness should see that I should work hard to meet and resist the great fire of time with pain, joy, enthusiasm and ruthlessness. The flame rises and flies with my long hair as wings. Dare to set yourself on fire in time, and you will crystallize in eternity.

There is also a ladle, which can't be used to scoop wine. There is a crazy sense of history burning in me, and the wine poured on Beidou can't be put out. There is an incurable homesickness for time. The night market in Taichung glows with fantastic light in the foothills, and agate eyes twinkle in amethyst plates. Acacia outside Lin Wutong, long-distance buses come and go from afar, just like the ups and downs on the road. The air is filled with the coolness of dew and the fragrance of newly cut grass roots. When it was injected into the lungs, my feelings were thorough and unobstructed, just like pure white porous pumice at the foot of a volcano. Being awake is happy. In the future catastrophe, only sober can guarantee freedom. The climate in the starry sky is a sober order. The starry sky is infinite, the starry sky of the big compass, the abstract mural that creates the universe, is mysterious and mysterious, puzzling and inexhaustible, and the beauty is hopelessly amazing. The giant waterfall of Tianhe jetted down, soaring spiral nebulae and nebulae, but the sound of water was so silent that it could never be heard. Light flies endlessly in the oval space, and makes interstellar voyage in the Tianhe vortex. There is no modernity, no classicism, no CAMBRIAN and no ice age. Light gives birth to thousands of suns and thousands of huge egg yolks in a beautiful oval. The beautiful oval gave birth to me, Houji and Helen. Tanabata has passed, and the weaver girl's loom still weaves many slender blue and white filaments. Five thousand years ago, the ring nebula was still rotating mysteriously. This wedding is always in preparation, and the bride who weaves brocade is always young. Five thousand years ago, my five cubic ancestors were trampling at the foot of Kunlun Mountain and the source of the Yellow River. But who am I? Who am I? The sound falls on the edge of the silent island universe. Who am I? I am.-Who? In an instant, all the light faded and accusations gathered under my eyes. You are not who, just saying that you are everything. You are a dwarf among dwarfs, the smallest among the smallest. But you are everything. Your soul is branded with the nightmares and fears of all Beijingers. As long as you are willing, you will stand in the center of history.

Above the war, you should raise your pen. Now hunger is above the Black Death. The stars are listed and hung on an eternal crown. How many carats of glory can crown the wise, the brave and you? If you stay awake and stand long enough. You are empty. You are everything. In a big vacuum without echo, light said.

1964 August 20th in Taipei