Part One: piano under the shade of a tree that is a lot of country folk, there have been situations of country living people have seen: the hand leaning on a bamboo pole, carrying a blind box, sitting under the shade of a tree, he took his violin.He did not know how many people before, everything depends on his perception, the leaves beside him, there is sunshine, there is moonlight, and even follow the master to listen to the book of the dog owner or have been led in the hands of the donkey.Do not need to set up the stage, no lights, they are not the most extravagant artists, their hearts have lights, and more complex notation all remember in their hearts.I believe that the world is blind net, they feel things are pure, the way a man or a woman walked, depends on their perception, a donkey or a pig through it, it depends on their perception, a leaf ten leaves one thousand leaves falling, depends on their perception of the extent walked a season depends on their perception.Their understanding of the world is perceived, especially when they are more immersed in playing the violin alone, it is the state of their lives and the survival of the world is such a world or life.The earliest pry my artistic thinking, artistic imagination is that these country music, enlightenment of my youth art.  Growing up I learned that often blind to the village of his piano, in fact, there is “Reflection of the Moon”, there is “horse race”, there is “Butterfly Lovers”, there is “good night”.He walk in his world or wandering, is a master of the world.I remember him in the shade, under the moonlight alone, he used the piano to summon people in the past, a bowl of food to eat with the music, find a place to live.One year, just under a heavy rain, outside the village drip is full of water, I saw him in the village, in the hands of a stick to knock the mud, in front of a puddle, he seemed helpless in front of a puddle, bamboo knock out water splashed his forehead, that the violin strapped on his back on the box.Fortunately, someone came, took him in the past.The damp evening, I heard his piano.    Part II: No no rhyme rhyme piano piano is a loud scream, without the slightest emotion, but it has a kind of sad.Unlike the hurt inside, permeated with weeping; unlike skin lesions, mixed with pain.  Simple life like no rhyme piano playing and singing repeatedly.He did not Tchaikovsky’s Pathetique; no stirring Pipa is; there is no smooth the Reflection of the Moon.In the long river, I compose my music in!  When qing use the “rush” worry time fly, has long Confucius: lost time, day and night sighs.Time is torn life, turned into five sections time do read music, plain notes mark online.Sauna net late at night looking up at the moon, not the slightest thoughts; no bow bursts of sorrow.Meditation has long been the demise of Li Bai.Perhaps the bed can be free fantasy, fantasy bolted; fantasy fly; fantasy red carpet into the distance.But lie down, tired during the day has long been occupied by thoughts, drowsiness layers of people unable to daydream.When your eyes dim ceiling, already in the morning, time is beginning to make plain flowing.  But also a long beep.Life is like a spring rain: hazy, sometimes you can see, but not touch why not hold an umbrella, gentle spring rain will not care because I did not like Gorky: Let the storm to more severe, because I was not Haiyan; Yu Guangzhong I would not like it: listen to that rain, because I did not poetry.This should bloom brilliant, but was heavy rainy season oppression.  Very tired, thinking is very small, how to pitch tomorrow, only know tomorrow.Neixiu piano never stopping for a rest, and suddenly feel life is fleeting dream, he is not Huan Cheng grief; not the Lord of the Rings brave; nor is Harry Potter’s magic.Everything is unreal.Ministry compiled a break residual Jane merged into life, careless daydream.  Bursts blew shrill sound.Everyone’s heart is it not a few meters while cooking, and why?To make a living, in order to keep life nothing exciting, but in fact everything is nothing exciting.Stop-go stop and go, life is so ordinary.  But also a long beep.Intermittent slightest fatigue fatigue.No rhyme or as bursts of piano?Part Three: Rainy piano now, forget Amidst the sound of the piano alleys March.Hold a two-edged umbrellas, walking in the misty rain in the south of.Rain tapping the umbrella, long-winded endless love words.Fields, hills, stream banks, are blooming on the green, eyes full of tender.Walking in solid cement trail, listening to the chatter long monotonous, inevitably tired.In spite of the rain wet shoes, set foot on the roadside grass, feel the moisture of rain melted, indulge in the southern spring tenderness.  Before long, he walked into a small town.Row upon row of buildings on both sides of the street, there are some shops.Rain, few pedestrians, store business is not how, but very noisy, almost every walk thirty-five can see a Licensing Board: millet, Mahjong, Solitaire.Some people see someone play, laughter winners and losers lament, mistakes self-blame, pointing the sidelines, such as flies buzzing, heard.Walk four or five miles, had not seen the car, and others see a long time, it is inevitable irritable, could not help speed up the pace, just want to escape the hustle and bustle and into a quiet situation.  Faint, there are piano penetrating rain curtain, floated into the ears: “Traditional”!Deep gentle sound of the piano, seemed melancholy poet in a low whisper v my sorrow, like a wronged woman sobbing in moonlight, tell their troubles and depression: sometimes deep, sometimes boosting, and sometimes sorrowful, sometimes proudly, sometimes calm, sometimes jumping to her people to experience dissatisfaction, grievances and sorrow.Follow the melodious sound of the piano, find the owner of the piano: fifty years old, gray hair, some, dark, although sitting, but also gives the feeling of burly.The street was waist iron fence, do not want to disturb other people, just quietly revel in the sound of the piano and the elderly in.An end, could not help but applaud.The old man looked up and saw us, he seems sorry for his neglect: “Come in and rest your feet.”Opened the fence gate, gray hair still tough physique mistress had brought a chair.”Masaoki rare, old.”I said sincerely.”Oh, leisure pastime, sorry.”The old man’s face lit with honest smile.”Another one bar, the elderly.”I urge the.The old man turned the sheet music, “Mountain and Flowing Water” and from strings in jumping out, sometimes ethereal, sometimes solid unwavering, still see the top of the mountain, misty, erratic.Huer that moment of quiet is broken, clear spring Ding Dong, light spray splash.I listen, I seem to stand on the shore, eyes closed, quietly enjoy the water that flows through springs from the heart, desire and do clean up.  Old enough, and as I pulled the “Dragon Boat Melody”.At this time, the elderly naughty grandchildren join in the fun, the trouble of turning the music, then simply took.”Old slightly, I do not remember the music.”The old man is not restrained grandson, just smiled apologetically, shaking his head, not angry.”Thank you, old.”I am very satisfied with this music for free meals, got up to leave.In a distant memory, every rainy day or slack, people always get together, tell stories, play chess, sing folk songs.It’s dense local culture, who indulge my childhood.Today, materialistic, all the people gambling, bustling, everyone for profit, non-scores, fights, many of which were from happening here.Rarely have such pursuits for the elderly.Events of the past several months, that Rainy piano, melodious still in my ears.Part IV: distant sound of the piano every storage of old things, are buried there anymore latent romantic, disseminated has left a mark or trace of the vicissitudes of life, the years go down in history for a moment seared the life course.Just as inadvertently opened the box gathering dust for years, absently thumbed Looking back, shocked that reflect people’s eyes a harmonica.Despite long-lost thing, that silver shell, emerald green inner core, but still is so familiar.I go back to the moment seems like thirty years ago the college years, my mind can not help but emerge out of the river in the beautiful scenery of the wind, the Weiming Lake verdant trees, the breeze at the foot of Tashan sunset, there is an exquisite pretty girl blowing harmonica mesmerizing picture.Vaguely ear sounded as if back one after another how well acquainted melody, lingering sound wave, the period of good and sweet memories flood embankment Man got the idea.  Harmonica, in fact, is a very common harmonica, but because the youth carrying over a period of hot, very graceful feelings for me, maybe more valuable.By chance, I learned that the girl I have long admired like harmonica, will use the prize money just to get in the poetry Grand Prix bought a quietly gave her to express my love for.Girl flushed the ears, bursting out with a bright red cheeks, smiled and talked, two rosy lips leaves gently kiss harmonica, rhythmic swinging, a string of lighthearted note, such as mountain spring water trickling from the hole piano soothing tones flowing out.  In this way, in numerous Chunhuaqiuyue, summer wind winter snow days, melodious harmonica sound always linger in my ears, the hearts of joy and delight enjoy flying, and holy flower of love is also the sound of the piano Sonata quietly sprouting.At dusk, night, whenever we were snuggled together, she lay blow, I listened quietly, then “walk on the country road” Tianshi, that “small Luo Hao,” the cheerful, that “Grandma’s Penghu Bay “the long, that” Mu Yangqu “the Tragic makes me feel harmonica tone giving a rustic poetry, music is the most essential of life, it makes me feel better life, romantic and beautiful to be my imagination.Yes ah, that harmonica sound like the dawn of the boat, into the drowsy I sleep in in the morning, I will illuminate.When I opened my eyes, the harmonica sound as if last night is continuing, it is echoed in the windows, it was filled with the glow of the window, it seems like the harmonica sound, specially early in the morning coming from heaven Cheonggeum.In my mind?Harmonica sound of running water is the forest, fields breeze, flowers fragrant, soothing, gives me a warm and carefree mood, harmonica sound is relying on two young vibrant heart, which seems exceptionally charm, True Feelings.  Now, harmonica girl had become my wife.Perhaps busy, livelihoods and forth, sterile woman working hard, trivia troubles, coupled with repeated move of agonizing, harmonica has long been under pressure in the storage box debris, his wife will attend to it, as if never had this hobby.Rusty harmonica has been idle for many years, but as I won treasures, carefully scrub clean, the same as the year gave his wife, from the depths of memory looking forward to playing the scene and his wife had a wonderful piano.Regrettably, however, perhaps too long a delay, even his wife not recall a complete scores, try blew the harmonica, piano and off, every note is very jerky.Bird harmonica or harmonica, but the sweet sound of the piano skill we have already far away, just as it’s gone green years but in any case, the piano again in the ears, it is Imagination past, retroactive youth and tomorrow’s outlook piano what!  I miss the sweet memories of those days listening to the harmonica, and I left that part.