He Qifang

The author of 'Twilight' is He Qifang, and the creation period is modern.

Before the Rain "is a prose written by modern essayist He Qifang in the spring of 1933. This essay focuses on depicting three sets of animal images: frightened pigeons, restless ducks, and angry eagles and falcons, interspersed with two sets of hometown style paintings: trees and trees welcoming spring, and ducklings playing in the water. Behind these paintings, the author cleverly arranged two clues: one is the contrast between the haggard scenery of the northern country and the beautiful scenery of their hometown; One is the contrast between the author's fervent anticipation and the bleak reality of the world, with two threads permeating each other and complementing each other. The article is profound and bright, subtle and rich, vividly expressing the author's inner frustration and thirst, and also providing readers with rich imaginative space. 雨前① ◎　何其芳 最后的鸽群带着低弱的笛声②在微风里划一个圈子后，也消失了。也许是误认这灰暗的凄冷的天空为夜色的来袭，或是也预感到风雨的将至，遂过早地飞回它们温暖的木舍。 几天的阳光在柳条上撒下的一抹嫩绿，被尘土埋掩得有憔悴色了，是需要一次洗涤③。还有干裂的大地和树根也早已期待着雨。雨却迟疑着。 我怀想着故乡的雷声和雨声。那隆隆的有力的搏击，从山谷返响到山谷，仿佛春之芽就从冻土里震动，惊醒，而怒茁出来。细草样柔的雨声又以温存之手抚摩它，使它簇生油绿的枝叶而开出红色的花。这些怀想如乡愁一样萦绕得使我忧郁了。我心里的气候也和这北方大陆一样缺少雨量④，一滴温柔的泪在我枯涩的眼里，如迟疑在这阴沉的天空里的雨点，久不落下。 白色的鸭也似有一点烦躁了，有不洁的颜色的都市的河沟里传出它们的焦急的叫声。有的还未厌倦那船一样的徐徐的划行。有的却倒插它们的长颈在水里，红色的蹼趾伸在尾后，不停地扑击着水以支持身体的平衡。不知是在寻找沟底的细微食物，还是贪那深深的水里的寒冷。 有几个已上岸了⑤。在柳树下来回地作绅士的散步，舒息划行的疲劳。然后参差地站着，用嘴细细地抚理它们遍体白色的羽毛，间或又摇动身子或扑展着阔翅，使那缀在羽毛间的水珠坠落。一个已修饰完毕的，弯曲它的颈到背上，长长的红嘴藏没在翅膀里，静静合上它白色的茸毛间的小黑眼，仿佛准备睡眠。可怜的小动物，你就是这样做你的梦吗？ 我想起故乡放雏鸭的人了。一大群鹅黄色的雏鸭游牧在溪流间。清浅的水，两岸青青的草，一根长长的竹竿在牧人的手里。他的小队伍是多么欢欣地发出啾啁声？又多么驯服地随着他的竿头越过一个田野又一个山坡！夜来了，帐幕似的竹篷撑在地上，就是他的家。但这是怎样辽远的想象啊！在这多尘土的国度里，我仅只希望听见一点树叶上的雨声。 我仰起头。天空低垂如灰色的雾幕⑥，落下一些寒冷的碎屑到我脸上。一只远来的⑦鹰隼仿佛带着怒愤，对这沉重的天色的怒愤，平张的双翅不动地从天空斜插下，几乎触到河沟对岸的土阜，而又鼓扑着双翅，作出猛烈的声响腾上了。那样巨大的翅使我惊异。我看见了它两肋间斑白的羽毛。 接着听见了它有力的鸣声，如同一个巨大的心的呼号，或是在黑暗里寻找伴侣⑧的叫唤。 然而雨还是没有来。 Praying for Rainfall ◎ He Qifang The last flock of pigeons have also gone out of sight after doing their final circling in the soft breeze, the sound of their whistles barely audible. They are hastening back to their warm wooden dovecote earlier than usual perhaps because they have mistaken the bleak leaden sky for…