Lunar track

We children, who found everything new and often nothing satisfying; Mid-Autumn night, we looked forward to the moon in the yard, but did not come out for a long time, then sit back in the central hall, put the bamboo curtain children stuffy, pestering grandma to tell stories. Grandma can tell stories; I said one, and I'll say another... Grandma suddenly said: "In comes the moon!"

As we watched, the moon did appear in the bamboo curtain. It crept quietly in and appeared on the window mirror. It turned out that the moon had long legs and climbed through the bamboo curtain, first a white path and then a semicircle. We are happy, and all hold your breath, for fear that it is a dust shadow change, will blow away. The moon is still climbing on the bamboo curtain, the full circle but slowly lost, missing; In the end, there was no trace, leaving only an empty mirror, a disappointment. Grandma said: "It is gone, it is more; Go out and look for the moon."

So we all ran out, and sure enough it was in the yard, but it was no longer so full and round. The white light that came into the yard was jade and silver, and the light was never so bright. In the center of the yard, is the thick osmanthus tree, sparse branches, sparse leaves, osmanthus has not opened, but there are many blossoming. We all approached, wondering where the full circle had gone. But suspect that the bud is a myriad of stars; Looking up at the sky, the stars seemed to be much less than usual. The moon was shining overhead, obviously much larger and rounder, and clearly I could see something inside.

"Grandma, what's on the moon?" I asked.

"It's a tree, boy." "Said Grandma.

"What kind of tree?

"The laurel tree."

We all looked at each other, suddenly, there seemed to be a breath, curling up behind us, to the tip of the hair, add a faint itch feeling; It seems that we have been in the month, the laurel is clearly behind us this tree.

Grandma looked at us and smiled.

"Silly boy, there are already people there."

'Who? We were all surprised.

"Chang 'e." "Said Grandma.

"Who is Chang 'e?"

"A woman." Oh, a woman. I thought. In the moon, the ground should be paved with silver, the walls should be made of jade: such a fine place must be a very beautiful woman to live in.

"Are there three pretty sisters?"

"As pretty as the third sister."

The third sister was happy:

"Oh, the moon is mine!"

The third sister was the most beautiful among us, and we all envied her. Looking at her crazy look, my heart has a wave of envy.

So we argued, and each of us said the moon was his own. Grandma brought a pot of sweet wine from the house, poured a small glass for each of us, and said, "Look at your glasses, children, you all have a moon!"

We all looked at the glass of wine, and there was a little full moon floating in it. Holding it, motionless, and as soon as the hand moved, it would quiver in a pitiful manner. Everyone drank, and the moon was in everyone's heart. Grandma said: "The moon is everyone's, it did not go, you go to find it."

Curiouser still, we looked for it in the yard. It didn't go away. We soon found it on grape leaves, magnetic flowerpots, or Grandpa's shovel blade. We came to interest, but found out the gate.

Outside the gate was a small river. The river is thin, but full of a large piece of clean sand; It was not so rough as the day, and it shone with silver, soft and smooth as the surface of the water. We ran from the beach, my brother just stood on the upper bay of the river, on the shout:

'Here's the moon!

Almost at the same time, the sister called out from the lower bay, "Here is the moon!"

I went to both places to see the moon in the water in both places, along the river, and in both places the moon in the water. We all looked up in the sky, and I suddenly saw the little moon in the eyes of my brother and sister. I think it must be in my eyes, too. Oh, the moon is so many: if you want it, it has.

We sat on the beach, scooping sand, looking at the light, and I said:

"What do you think the moon is?"

"The moon is all I want." "Said the younger brother.

"The moon is good." "Said her sister.

I agree with them. It's like Grandma said: It belongs to us, everyone. We looked up again to see the moon on that day. The moon was bright and white in the sky. It suddenly occurred to me that we had the moon, and the boundless sky was ours: wasn't the moon our stamp on the sky? They all felt satisfied and sleepy, so they sat down on the beach and fell asleep for a while.