Whenever the lights of thousands of houses are dim at night, after a busy day, I relieve my physical and mental fatigue, close the doors and windows, block out all the hustle and bustle of the outside world, and abandon the intrigues between people. , fade away the glitz and annoyance, in a quiet night, no longer in love with the red dust, one person, a book, a cup of tea, surrounded by the fragrance of tea, ink and books, leisurely listen to a piece of flowing clouds and flowing water, and let the gentle music of the piano slowly flow in In the pond of the heart, in the leisurely play of the guqin, I read the fragrance of a scroll of ink and express my attachment to a piece of paper. Let my worldly heart stay with the music and become lightly intoxicated, and place it on the scroll and become fragrant.
The spirit of poetry and calligraphy in one’s belly comes from China, and it is the fragrance of books that can reach far. I like words, and I love to quietly appreciate the beauty of books. In the fragrant scrolls, the tenderness of my heart is lingering. The light ink flowing rhyme on the end of the pen is meandering with the romance of my thoughts. In the beautiful Tang poetry and Song lyrics Wandering in nostalgia, in the light and shadow of the years, I am grateful for every encounter in the fleeting years, how many romances, how many lingering affections, all in looking back and smiling, weaving the eternity of memory with words, and spreading my heartfelt words along the way with the breeze, how many The fragrance of lovesickness lingers in the light ink, and in the tenderness of the moonlight on the window sill, a plain pen moistens a charming and warm picture of life.
Idlely holding poems and books and enjoying the ink, the fragrance of each word is bound to the ink. I envy Lao Tzu's free and easy nature in which inaction is the Tao; I love Wang Guo's heroic life where there is really no mountain higher than a person and no road longer than feet; I feel sad for Xue Xiaochan's thin wind, thin rain, thin plum blossoms, and lovesickness. I miss the beauty of Zen and tranquility; I miss Xu Zhimo and wave his sleeves, not taking away the wonderful artistic conception of a cloud; I am obsessed with the misty rain of Qiong Yao, and the poignant love of a beautiful woman on the water.
I love books, love ink to the point of being crazy, love mountains and rivers, and cultivate my sentiments. Whenever I am short of inspiration, I take a wisp of breeze with me and wander leisurely among the mountains and green grass, watching the world of mortals. In the mountains, smell the fragrance of green grass, savor the leisurely time, let the clouds and wild cranes fly over your head, and inspiration is also flowing out one after another in the mountains where the breeze is overflowing, and you are full of talent.
Every book and every ink is intoxicating with youth, and every word is elegant. The woman with the word "Xi" loves the lonely fragrance in the books and the tenderness and affection in the words. Every gesture and gesture always exudes the beauty of the fragrance of books. This kind of beauty is the shocking inner beauty of temperament, a kind of elegant and refined beauty. Women with the surname Xi are warm and elegant, as calm as smoke in life, and are unfazed by favors and disgrace. In the prosperous world, you are elegant and fragrant, calm and relaxed. Women with the surname Xi know best how to savor life and art. I prefer a poem, an ink, a fragrant tea, listening to the wind, rain and falling flowers. Love to be alone in a corner, savor the quiet time, and think about some pleasant and romantic stories. The water-like feelings, dignified temperament, and deep connotation always permeate in the speech and behavior inadvertently. I like to watch the fragrance of books in my own space, let my thoughts touch the tip of the pen, sing softly in the fragrance of ink, and cook the ink time in the scroll. I raise my pen between my eyebrows to express my thoughts. In the silent world, I push away the smoke and dust of the world and weave the past events into a dream. In the smooth lines of light ink flow, I let the ink fade and the words spread, bringing the beautiful scenery and beauty into my heart. My thoughts, the beauty and vicissitudes of life, are filled with my heartfelt words in words. Day after day, year after year, my pen goes out of the world, and I count the passing years in the fragrance of ink.