In late spring, the sun is getting brighter and warmer, and the whole hospital is warm. Seeing the wind lazy and careless, waiting for time to lean on the windowsill and slowly move to the front of the steps. In the afternoon, the white clouds on the shoulders are also lazy and leisurely, and the charming thoughts are fresh and elegant.
A few pots of orchids have blossomed, the flowers are overflowing, and several butterflies are dancing together. The breeze in Xu Lai is full of fragrance. "After sitting for a long time, I don't know that Xiang is in the room. When I push the window, the butterfly flies." This poem, which originated from the heart, happened to be tied to the graceful orchid branches.
As long as the clothes are stained with spearmint, Lan Yun enters the heart, and butterflies are flying beautifully, sitting in such a warm hour light, you can't smell the noise of cars and horses outside the court for the time being, you can not travel around the world, you can not think about the heaviness of years and the warmth of fireworks, and when things are forgotten, those once dusty words suddenly come to life, perhaps because of idleness, perhaps because of the love in your bones, and every word scattered in your heart is gradually refined.
The small building is full of moon, and the whole courtyard is bathed in the bright sky, which is like water and tenderness, soft and quiet. The evening breeze blows the flowers, the bamboo in front of the steps, the green clothes float and the moonlight dances. Vaguely listening to a few insects, counting the brightness of a few sparse stars in the night sky, I think of Liu's Moonlit Night, "The moonlight is deeper than half a house, and the Beidou withers." Tonight, through the green screen window, I know that the spring is warm and the insects are singing new. " Isn't this quiet quadrangle and the milky way splashed by the quiet and beautiful moon the most beautiful annotation of this poem?
Morning bell and dusk drum, the beautiful time is so tight and slow. Suddenly, in May, the appearance of light summer fell on the brow, the roses on a fence in the streets and lanes were enchanting and blooming, and the orchids in the courtyard had already withered, only the emerald green shadows looked at each other. The wisp of pure fragrance wrapped in plain paper, just between the lines, smells faintly and still exudes a pleasant fragrance.
A windmill jasmine is in full bloom, even the dull air becomes sweet and thick and greasy, covering up the mixed flavors of fireworks at home, and a troubled and confused heart melts instantly. There is a tiger in your heart, smelling the roses. When you are busy, you can feel a little bit of beauty with peace of mind, add a little poetry to your life, and put your soul in a calm and serene time.
When it rains, hide under the eaves and listen to the rain in the yard. The sound of rain is sparse and dense, and it falls like intermittent beads, hitting the floor; When it is dense, it pours into the yard, as if shrouded in a crystal rain curtain. Just a cool breeze blew, lifted a corner of the curtain, and the dust was washed away. It's sunny after the rain and the courtyard is spotless, which is exactly what I like.
In a blink of an eye, at the end of May, the smell of hot summer is getting stronger and stronger, and people come and go in the streets and lanes, and their steps are in a hurry. The simple small courtyard is still like a quiet city, quietly accommodating the sun and the moon and the change of temperature. "The bright moon enters my house and the breeze blows my clothes", and the heart is blameless and poetic. Those faint lines are all spring and summer, not years.
Bellome said: "If the years are quiet, then you can rest your body and mind;" If time is dark, then more experience. "A kind of honed thought, a kind of persistent thought; A confused idea leads to understanding. The good and the bad will be smoothed out one by one and quietly ferried in endless time.
A trace of blue shadow, half a lamp of purple sand fragrant tea, life on the tiles and under the eaves in the four seasons, eye-lifting, white clouds floating in the blue sky, low eyebrows, fireworks in the first hospital, running water for the rest of my life, what else can I expect? Let the years be mottled and feel at ease.
-Jasmine's pure heart