The period of autumn comprises the seventh, eighth and ninth moons in lunar calendar. So the fifteenth date of the eighth moon is Mid-Autumn Day, the middle of autumn. Or, how can the day be named as Mid-Autumn Day? An ancient poet said, “The moon is specially bright at Mid-Autumn.” Because the sky looks so vast and the air is so cool as there are no clouds for a myriad miles, the moon grows round, and its brightness is to its full. At such a time, gathering of three or five bosom friends, meeting in the garden, drinking tea instead of wine, eating fruits instead of dishes, having a heart-to-heart talk, and joking to the utmost content, all those are great pleasures in life. When the moon rises to the zenith, all present look up at it. Li Bai had lines: “Not knowing the moon when very young, I call it a white jade plate.” Su Shi said, “As dusk clouds cleared, the sky's overflowed with cool light. And noiselessly the Jade-Plate moves in Milky Way.” That’s what they described. But in my opinion, the full moon with bright light should not be compared to jade. It’s more suitable to compare it to the mirror. However, the mirror can reflect images, but the moon can’t. So this comparison is still not appropriate. Let it take the benefit of the doubt for the time being.
All conditions in autumn can’t be covered in a word. Methinks, just at the beginning of autumn succeeding summer, the heat won’t entirely recede, and so sometimes, it can be still hot. It is called Indian summer. At such a time, though it is autumn, yet it is really still summer. If I want to save some expense on air-conditioning, I suffer the failure. As it turns a little cool, I use fans instead, which is just what my wife wishes for saving energy. This is what a poor scholar can do.
They say that aspects of autumn are changeable: sometimes fine, sometimes cloudy, sometimes windy and sometimes rainy. When autumn rains keep in endless fall for days, the coolness in the air will steal into human body. Since Heaven acts nastily, our touring enthusiasm is dampened. Therefore, I have to call my friends to meet me in my house. Then we eat crabs and sip wine while we chant poems and write couplets. And it is particularly interesting to watch chrysanthe-mums in drizzles. The chrysanthemums are arranged on the marble steps of the courtyard, with raindrops like sweat dripping. They stand in the wind, looking so graceful. The enjoyment in this is no less than when we get on hilltops. Although I don’t eat the fallen petals of the chrysanthemums, I stick the yellow flowers on my coat.
When in late autumn, even the dews are cold. I put on more clothes and quilts. The blossoms are falling and the leaves turning yellow, dancing in the wind. The chirping of the cicadas is scarcely heard. They also lament at the change of the seasons. Even cheeping of the crickets sounds sad as if they know there will soon be the advent of the chilly winter. As for those vulgar scholars like me, they also feel that time won’t wait for anyone before their bones turn to dust. I, thereby, compose a poem about grievous autumn:
I’ve spent another year for nothing, and now autumn comes again;
When looking back in my life, half of it consists of sorrow.
How can I bear, as now aging, that I’ve achieved nothing?
So I cannot but give myself up in the drunken land everyday.作者: 山菊 时间: 2015-9-19 02:38
余雖不餐秋菊之落英﹐亦插黃花於衣 --- 无图无真相
