One is a child with a small body but a long face and a very big head. Of course, I was still a child at that time. However, when I saw him, I was always thinking that this naughty child was really strange, as if I were already a big child. He loved to do all kinds of naughty tricks day and night. The middle point was a fairly tall man with a full face. At that time, I guessed in my heart that he should always be 30 years old. In fact, he was only our age.

They are always whispering in class or in the dormitory, laughing and jumping around, but finally they will do something very light, ridiculous and strange to attract everyone’s attention.
What surprised me most was that naughty boy with a big head and a small tail and short-sighted glasses in Phnom Penh loved reading novels so much at ordinary times. He usually held a roll of glossy paper with small lithographs in his hand, but he always scored the most when he took the exam or started writing.
Like this, they lived together in the dormitory for half a year, except once or twice, which made them a little small. After all, nothing happened to them. Later, it seems that my dormitory has changed, except gathering together in class, and the chances of meeting each other are even less. After the annual leave, I didn’t know what suddenly left the house and joined a church school. It seems that I haven’t had a door yet. Since then, I haven’t had a chance for more than ten years. Although I am wandering in a foreign land, I often think of the old things of that day, but I finally feel the breeze because of the sudden change
In 1934, 1923, I wandered in the soft world of mortals in Beijing. One day, the weather was calm and the sun was slanting. In the afternoon, I suddenly met Zhimo in the Songpo Museum in Shi Hu Hutong. When I took a closer look at his head, his face was as big as when I was in middle school, but his short stature was different. He grew up very much, and he was almost one or two inches taller than me.
His light and upright attitude is the same as when he was a child, but he has been trained to be a better person because of his travels in Europe and America. When he smiles, he is still the same as that naughty child more than ten years ago.
Since this year, he has been in constant contact with each other almost several times a week. He is good at discussing and being sensitive to the virtues of poetry. However, he became a center. At that time, the literati reached the official beauty girl, and when they were unlucky, no matter how old or young, they were visiting him. You can see that no matter when you are unhappy, you have to go through him. When you ask him, you will naturally throw everything away and be assimilated by his happiness.
Before and after this, he once talked about China, but he suddenly stayed for a while, opened his eyes wide and asked me in surprise.
Lao Li, do you remember that he is dead?
This means Lao Li is the naughty adult I wrote at the beginning. He entered his cousin together.
Later, he went to Europe, traveled to India, and expanded from the center of China to become an international place, so the beautiful and abundant poems were fresh and unique, and the prose accumulated year by year. After the revolution in 1927, Beijing became Peiping. At that time, many middle classes scattered into autumn leaves, some flew to the sky and became important people. Some of them never saw the opportunity again, but they were safely in the dead, even more undead and still wandering in the wrong road, and finally they could not find their way. It was in this state that one day on the street of the sea I suddenly met Zhimo again.
Hey, where have you been hiding these years?
After a short talk on the road, I sat in his apartment for a while, and then he took me to the ship dock of the Dalai Company, because he had just received a tip from Tagore before noon and the ship was scheduled to dock in India at about 5 pm. He wanted a boat to see the old poet’s illness.
He stood in the cold wind of the dock before the ship landed and people could talk, and it seemed to be autumn, and he quietly said to me
The poet is old and rejected by the new era. His old man’s sorrow is Kong’s sorrow.
Because Tagore came back from a lecture in the United States this time, he was rejected by some newcomers in the United States in Japan, and he was very unhappy in his heart and became seriously ill on the road because of his old age. When Shima said these words to me, his eyes turned blue and gray, and his voice became particularly low. I have been seeing sad expressions on his face for many years. This is really the first and last time.
Since this time, the two of them have been in constant contact with each other as when they were in Beijing, but for one thing, I was lazy to talk, and for another, he didn’t get together much in the past year or two. After this summer vacation, he went to Beiping to have a big dinner for three days. On the first day of drinking, Mr. Dong Jian was there, and Mr. Dong was also the old seat in Hangzhou House at that time. We also talked about that Hangzhou flew back from Beiping before his death, and I accidentally broke into his apartment the next night.
That night, because many friends gathered there to talk and talk, it was said that it was past twelve o’clock when we left, and we had an appointment to disperse after the next night, but I didn’t go the next day, so I lost the chance to see him forever because his coffin was already in the sea.
Two kinds of literati are the most enviable. One is that Gorky lived to be 60 or 70 years old and could write many colorful memories. The other is that Ye Saining’s brilliance has not been exhausted. Before his death, he can write many ups and downs in literature and history. After he is a longitudinal literature and history, he can ask every contemporary literati to write a text that hangs him, mourns him or criticizes him and scolds him to become a horizontally enlarged literary garden.
Now Zhimo is dead, but his poetry is immortal, and his voice and appearance are immortal, unless you know others, old and young, and die one by one.
December 11th, 1931
attach
After writing a memory, I think about it. I added a little fact to Mr. Chen’s elegiac couplet and made it into 42 words.
Three volumes of new poems, 20 years of old friends, you are both beautiful at the end of the world, and it is hard to get another river full of nine o’clock.
December 19th, 1931
Tribute to Mr. Xu Dishan
I, Mr. Xu Dishan, don’t want to tell you a little about the exchanges between the two people, but there are very few materials. However, Mr. Xu has treated the spirit of others and has done all kinds of meritorious service in his country and nation since the Anti-Japanese War. I am absent from the time.
The first time I met him was when I created a publication in Shanghai. I remember it was an autumn dusk.
At that time, he had just left Beijing and had not changed Beiping South. It seems that he had just graduated from Yanda University. One of his novels, Life Birds, was published in the monthly novel, and everyone gave him the most satisfactory praise. He stayed at Mr. Zheng Zhenduo’s home near the editor of the Shangyin Museum on Baoshan Road in Zhabei.
At that time, Guo Moruo and Cheng Fangwu, two of us, lived in Harbin Road, and our monthly novel advocated in the article that although it was out of date, we had a pen battle, but we were still very friendly to them, and we often exchanged small talk during our spare time.
In this short period of time, I met Mr. Xu several times, but at that time, he still didn’t get rid of a childish and naughty spirit. After a few words, he always went to find a child to throw a ball and kick the shuttlecock. I felt very strange about his childish temper at that time, but I didn’t know this naive character until I heard Lao She and them talk about him.