我有酒，你有故事吗？

。。我好奇

蜀锦之名，其来久矣。城名锦官，江名濯锦，而《蜀都赋》云：具锦斐成，濯色江波。《游蜀记》云：成都有九壁村，出美锦，岁充贡。宋朝岁输上供，转运给其费，府掌其事。元丰中，建锦院，岁募军匠五百人。其锦之名，凡三十余种，今惟蜀藩制之，名无多而价甚昂，不可易得。

　　蜀笺，古已有名，至唐而后盛，至薛涛而后精。据谱云：笺之名不一，有曰玉版，曰表光，曰贡余，曰经屑。或布纹，或绫绮文，或人物花木虫鱼鼎彝文。唐韩浦诗云：“十样鸾笺出益州，寄来新自浣溪头。”则又倍多于涛制。更有小而仅可书一诗者，乃今蜀藩所造。仅纯白一种，清莹光细，长余五、六尺，宽仅三、二尺，亦无诸花纹，远让古昔多矣。

　　十笺者，曰深红，曰粉红，曰杏红，曰明黄，曰深青，曰浅青，曰深绿，曰浅绿，曰铜绿，曰浅云。又有松花金、流沙、彩霞、金粉、桃花、冷金之别，皆其异名。

　　史载，王衍以霞光笺五百幅赐金堂，今张蠙霞光，即深红笺也。又有百韵笺，以其幅长可写百韵诗。其次学士笺，比百韵较短，何今日辄无一种？

大姐姐，找文件找不到，头疼的快炸了。
明明记得见过它，但再找就找不到了
最近总把东西弄丢，头顶乌云笼罩，哎。。哪天把自己也丢了咋办

文长既已不得志于有司，遂乃放浪曲蘖，恣情山水，走齐、鲁、燕、赵之地，穷览朔漠。其所见山奔海立、沙起云行、雨鸣树偃、幽谷大都、人物鱼鸟，一切可惊可愕之状，一一皆达之于诗。其胸中又有勃然不可磨灭之气，英雄失路、托足无门之悲，故其为诗，如嗔如笑，如水鸣峡，如种出土，如寡妇之夜哭、羁人之寒起。虽其体格时有卑者，然匠心独出，有王者气，非彼巾帼而事人者所敢望也。文有卓识，气沉而法严，不以摸拟损才，不以议论伤格，韩、曾之流亚也。文长既雅不与时调合，当时所谓骚坛主盟者，文长皆叱而奴之，故其名不出于越，悲夫！
　　喜作书，笔意奔放如其诗，苍劲中姿媚跃出，欧阳公所谓“妖韶女，老自有余态”者也。间以其余，旁溢为花鸟，皆超逸有致。
　　卒以疑杀其继室，下狱论死。张太史元汴力解，乃得出。晚年愤益深，佯狂益甚，显者至门，或拒不纳。时携钱至酒肆，呼下隶与饮。或自持斧击破其头，血流被面，头骨皆折，揉之有声。或以利锥锥其两耳，深入寸余，竟不得死。周望言晚岁诗文益奇，无刻本，集藏于家。余同年有官越者，托以钞录，今未至。余所见者，《徐文长集》、《阙编》二种而已。然文长竟以不得志于时，抱愤而卒。
　　石公日：先生数奇不已，遂为狂疾。狂疾不已，遂为囹圄。古今文人牢骚困苦，未有若先生者也。虽然，胡公间世豪杰，永陵英主，幕中礼数异等，是胡公知有先生矣；表上，人主悦，是人主知有先生矣，独身未贵耳。先生诗文崛起，一扫近代芜秽之习，百世而下，自有定论，胡为不遇哉？
　　梅客生尝寄予书曰：“文长吾老友，病奇于人，人奇于诗。”余谓文长无之而不奇者也。无之而不奇，斯无之而不奇也。悲夫！

求银子，三十两

不是很懂……总之先回复就对了吧？

虽然不是很懂，但总之先回复就对了吧？

凄凄荒草处，匆匆裙钗音。
岁月一壶酒，来者慰风尘。

哥哥你的头像好帅，是我最喜欢的咩咩

不过我还是觉得他古装束冠的造型好看很多

坐酌泠泠水，看煎瑟瑟尘。
无由持一碗，寄与爱茶人。

The first thought of God was an angel.
The first word of God was a man.
We were fluttering, wandering, longing creatures a thousand thousand years
before the sea and the wind in the forest gave us words.
Now how can we express the ancient of days in us with only the sounds of our yesterdays?
The Sphinx spoke only once, and the Sphinx said, "A grain of sand is a desert,
and a desert is a grain of sand; and now let us all be silent again."
I heard the Sphinx, but I did not understand.
上帝的第一个念头是天使。
上帝的第一个词语是人。
在大海和林间的风带给我们语言之前的千万年中，我们只是一群生物，飘荡着，徘徊着，寻求着。
而今，仅用昨日之声，我们怎样才能描述我们心中的远古时光呢？
斯蒂芬斯只说过一次话，斯蒂芬斯说：“一粒沙是一个沙漠，一个沙漠是一粒沙。现在就让我们再次沉默吧。”
我听到了斯蒂芬斯的话，却不懂得。

Remembrance is a form of meeting.
Forgetfulness is a form of freedom.
回忆是一种相见。
忘却是一种自由。

We measure time according to the movement of countless suns;
and they measure time by little machines in their little pockets.
Now tell me, how could we ever meet at the same place and the same time?
Space is not space between the earth and the sun to one
who looks down from the windows of the Milky Way.
Humanity is a river of light running from the ex-eternity to eternity.
Do not the spirits who dwell in the ether envy man his pain?
我们按照太阳无穷的运动感知时间，他们依靠口袋里小小的仪器测量时间。
告诉我，我们如何相遇于同时同地？
在一个从银河之窗俯瞰的人眼中，宇宙不是地球和太阳之间的宇宙。
人性是一条光河，在不朽之前向着不朽流淌。
来往于上界的精灵们，难道不羡慕人世间的痛苦？

One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night.
除了黑夜之路，无人能抵达黎明。

My house says to me, "Do not leave me, for here dwells your past."
And the road says to me, "Come and follow me, for I am your future."
And I say to both my house and the road,
"I have no past, nor have I a future. If I stay here,
there is a going in my staying; and if I go there is a staying in my going.
Only love and death will change all things."
我的房子对我说：“不要离开我，这里住着你的过去。”
道路对我说：“来吧，跟着我，我正是你的未来。”
我对我的房子和道路说：“我既无过去，也无未来。若我停留，停留里有我的前行。
若我前行，前行里有我的停留。唯有爱和死才能改变一切。”

Poetry is not an opinion expressed.
It is a song that rises from a bleeding wound or a smiling mouth.
Words are timeless.
You should utter them or write them with a knowledge of their timelessness.
A poet is a dethroned king sitting among the ashes
of his palace trying to fashion an image out of the ashes.
Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder,
with a dash of the dictionary.
In vain shall a poet seek the mother of the songs of his heart.
Once I said to a poet, "We shall not know your worth until you die."
And he answered saying, "Yes, death is always the revealer.
And if indeed you would know my worth
it is that I have more in my heart than upon my tongue,
and more in my desire than in my hand."
诗歌不是一种表达出来的见解。它是一首歌，从流血的伤口或微笑的嘴边升起。
语言是永恒的。你应当说出或写下它们，获知它们的永恒。
诗人是一个落魄的帝王，坐在宫殿的灰烬中，想造出一个图腾，出于残灰。
诗歌是许许多多的欢乐、痛苦和惊奇，交融于所有的词汇。
诗人心灵之歌的溯源必将是一场空。
曾经我对一个诗人说：“直到你死，我们才会懂得你的价值。”
他答道：“是的，死亡永远是一个启示者，如果你真想懂得我的价值，那便是：我所怀想的多于舌头之音，我所希冀的多于手中之物。

If you sing of beauty though alone in the heart of the desert you will have an audience.
Poetry is wisdom that enchants the heart.
Wisdom is poetry that sings in the mind.
If we could enchant man's heart and at the same time sing in his mind,
Then in truth he would live in the shadow of God.
Inspiration will always sing; inspiration will never explain.
We often sing lullabies to our children that we ourselves may sleep.
All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind.
Thinking is always the stumbling stone to poetry.
A great singer is he who sings our silences.
How can you sing if your mouth be filled with food?
How shall your hand be raised in blessing if it is filled with gold?
They say the nightingale pierces his bosom with a thorn when he sings his love song.
So do we all. How else should we sing?
Genius is but a robin's song at the beginning of a slow spring.
Even the most winged spirit cannot escape physical necessity.
如果你歌唱美，即使孤身处于荒漠中心，你也能拥有聆听者。
诗歌是陶醉心灵的智慧。
智慧是心灵唱出的诗歌。
如果我们能令一个人的心灵陶醉，并在他的心中歌唱，那他定然活在了神的庇护中。
灵感总在歌唱，灵感从不辩解。
我们经常给孩子唱催眠曲，以便让自己入睡。
我们所有的言语，都是碎屑，脱落于心灵的盛宴。
思想总是诗歌的绊脚石。
伟大的歌者能唱出我们的沉默。
如果你口中满是食物，你如何能够歌唱？
如果你手里满握金子，你怎能举手祈福？
他们说夜莺唱出恋歌时，用荆棘刺穿自己的胸膛。
我们全都如是。不然我们又怎能歌唱？
天才只是知更鸟的一支歌，在迟来的春天之初。
即使那高高飞翔的灵魂，也无法脱离身体之需。

A madman is not less a musician than you or myself; only the instrument on
which he plays is a little out of tune.
The song that lies silent in the heart of a mother sings upon the lips of her child.
No longing remains unfulfilled.
I have never agreed with my other self wholly.
The truth of the matter seems to lie between us.
Your other self is always sorry for you. But your other self grows on sorrow;
so all is well.
There is no struggle of soul and body save in the minds of those
whose souls are asleep and whose bodies are out of tune.
When you reach the heart of life you shall find beauty in all things,
even in the eyes that are blind to beauty.
We live only to discover beauty. All else is a form of waiting.
Sow a seed and the earth will yield you a flower. Dream your dream to the sky
and it will bring you your beloved.
The devil died the very day you were born.
Now you do not have to go through hell to meet an angel.
疯人是一个音乐家，并不比你我逊色，只是他所弹奏的乐器微微走调。
母亲心中默默的歌谣，在孩子的双唇间响起。
没有长久不润的渴望。
我与另一个我从未完全统一过。事物的本质似乎横亘在我们之间。
另一个你总在为你难过。另一个你因悲伤而成长。因而一切都是好。
除非灵魂沉睡，躯体失调，灵魂和躯体之间才会没有纷争。
当你抵达生命之心，你将发现万物之美，即使在看不见美的眼睛里。
活着只为发现美，其他一切只是一种等待。
撒下一粒种子，大地会给你一朵花。向着天空梦你所梦，天空会带来你所爱。
魔鬼死于你诞生之日。
你无须穿越地狱就能遇见天使。

Love and doubt have never been on speaking terms.
爱情和猜疑永不交谈。

Your most radiant garment is of the other person's weaving;
You most savory meal is that which you eat at the other person's table;
Your most comfortable bed is in the other person's house.
Now tell me, how can you separate yourself from the other person?
你最华丽的衣衫是他人编织的。
你最可口的饭菜是你在他人的餐桌上所吃的。
你最舒适的床铺就在他人的房屋里。
现在告诉我，你又如何能脱离于他人？