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I walked alone by the deserted lakeside, with the hazy moonlight
cascading upon the earth, adorning it with a silver glow. A gentle breeze
brushed across the lake, bringing a hint of coolness. The green willows by the
river swayed with the breeze, a familiar yet blurry sensation. After pondering
for a while, I finally had a faint realization that this place was probably my
hometown.
During my childhood, I used to mock the poems written by those who yearned for
their hometowns. Whenever my teacher taught me to recite "By the bed, the bright
moonlight," I would tightly seal my lips. I thought those poets were so boring.
Why would they miss their hometowns? Wasn't it different elsewhere? It wasn't
until later that I realized how silly and absurd my childhood thoughts were.
In my early years, I always fantasized about the world outside, thinking it
would be so much fun. Finally, when I got the opportunity, my father arranged
for me to go to the city to pursue my studies. Upon hearing this news, I
couldn't contain my excitement. I sat in the car and arrived in the city. There,
I discovered that the city was indeed exciting, but it felt like something was
missing in my heart. It was only in the evening, as I gazed at the twinkling
stars in the city, that I realized: my heart felt lonely. Initially, I thought
it would get better after a few days, but as time passed, I found myself longing
for my hometown even more. I made every effort to restrain myself, but each
attempt ended in failure.
After a few years, I finally grew accustomed to this lonely life. Every time I
thought of home, I would open my eyes wide and gaze at the distant mountains and
waters, resembling those of my hometown. However, those mountains were not the
ones from my hometown, not the ones I was familiar with. The water was not my
hometown's water, where I used to frolic with childhood friends. The people were
strangers, their faces unfamiliar, even though this place had the appearance of
my hometown. Yet, it lacked the essence of home, the uneven roads, and the music
that filled the fields at night, which I used to despise but now found so
melodious, beyond my control. Only the moon remained the same as the moon in my
hometown—round and luminous.
I yearn to return, but I cannot go back. I yearn to reminisce about everything
in my hometown, but I dare not delve further into those thoughts. I can only
send my heartfelt blessings to my beloved hometown through the moon. |
