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道光乙未年(1825)初秋的一个傍晚。江南某座小城的一间书斋里,一位中年人又在反复端详着书桌上的一块紫色石头。这是一方砚石,确切地说这是一方端砚石,且是一方上品端石。书斋生涯几十年,中年渐过,作为一个笔耕不辍、著述颇丰的读书人,他一直没有一方称心如意的好砚石,这犹如一个勤劳、聪慧的农夫却没有一块称心的肥沃土地一样,不免让人遗憾。文思泉涌时,墨尚未磨成;挥洒自如时,砚干
Daoguangwei years (1825) early autumn one evening. A small town in the south of a book fasting, a middle-aged person repeatedly looked back at a purple stone on the desk. This is an inkstone on one side, to be precise, this is a side of Yan stone, and is an upper-end stone. As a hardworking and intelligent farmer, he has never had a well-intentioned good inkstone as a penman, a well-versed scholar. , Can not help but make people regrettable. Fountain of thought Evonik, ink has not yet been ground; sway freely, the ink dry