Singer: Yuan Weiren
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Print preview memory like a pen.
There are no colors, only clear fonts.
As time goes on, it becomes more and more gloomy.
Collected in a diary with no ending
Memories are like a song
Forget the lyrics, but hum the melody.
It can't be washed out or recorded.
Free access to my old age.
Neighbors' memories are sad.
Remember that friends are reminders.
The speed of memory is suspended.
The direction of memory is the stars.
The taste of memory is doubt.
The volume of memory is the peace of mind.
The light of memory is sunshine.
Tears of memory are rain.
The backpack of memory is now.
The price of memory is getting older and older.
The quilt of memories is you.
Where is the safe of memory?
over there
It's raining.
2. What are the poems about recalling the past? 1. "Who reads the west wind alone in Huanxisha" Qing: Nalanxingde
Who reads the west wind alone, rustling yellow leaves and closing the window, reminiscing about the past and setting the sun.
It was unusual at that time to get drunk in spring and gamble on books and pour tea.
The autumn wind blows cold, who misses that lonely feeling? Watching the yellow leaves dancing to cover the window, standing in the sunset, recalling the past. Take a nap after drinking, the spring is suddenly leaking, the boudoir is gambling, and the skirt is scented with tea. The past is normal and I can't get what I want.
2. Song Xueli Dynasty in Qingping Music Year: Li Qingzhao
When I was a child, it snowed every year, and I often indulged in the enthusiasm of plums. Later, although the effect was in hand, I was not in a good mood to enjoy it. I could only rub it at will, but I got tears on my clothes.
When I visited bloom this year, I lived in a remote place with short and thin ears. Look at the plum blossom blown by the night wind, and it is probably hard to see its gorgeous.
When I was a child, it snowed every year, and I was often addicted to the interest in plum blossom. Later, although Mei Zhi had it, she was not in a good mood to enjoy it. She just wiped it casually, but tears flowed all over her clothes.
When the plum blossom bloomed again this year, I lived alone in a very remote place, and my short and thin hair in my ears had turned gray. Looking at the blooming plum blossom blowing in the wind that night, it is probably hard to see its splendor.
3. Upper Ruzhou County Tower/Upper Ruzhou Tower
Tang Dynasty: Li Yi
At dusk, drums are like a border state. I went to this building thirty years ago.
Today, the mountain city is sad not only for autumn, but also for tears.
Climbing the Ruzhou Tower, I watched the dim dusk scenery in front of me, as if I were in a frontier fortress, and the familiar drums sounded in my ears. It was thirty years ago that I first climbed the tower.
I think that the war has not been extinguished and the country is devastated; Full of melancholy is not only because of this bleak autumn!
4. Song Shenyuan's Two Poems: Lu You
On the city, the setting sun draws a corner to mourn, and the non-pool platform in the garden is revived.
Under the sad bridge, the spring waves are green, which used to be a stunning photo.
The dream is broken and fragrant for forty years, but the willow in Shenyuan doesn't blow cotton.
This body is a land of mountains and mountains, or a trace of death.
The horn painting on the wall seems to be wailing, and Shen Garden is no longer the original pool pavilion.
The spring water under the sad bridge is still green, and I have seen her beautiful shadow floating here like a rainbow.
It has been more than forty years since her death, and the willow trees in Shenyuan are too old to talk about.
I'm about to turn into a pile of dirt in Huiji Mountain, and I'm still here to mourn and cry.
5. Brother Deng Yexiao of Linjiang County recalled his old tour in Luo Zhong.
Song: Chen
I remember drinking on the bridge at noon yesterday, and most of the people sitting inside were Hao Ying. Long ditch Ryutsuki was silent. In the thin shadow of apricot flowers, I played the flute until dawn.
It has been like a dream for more than twenty years, although I am shocked. Go to the pavilion to see the new sunshine. How many things in ancient and modern times, fishermen sing the third.
I remember drinking in Wuqiao, and everyone present was a hero. Moonlight reflected on the river, quietly passed away with the water, and in the faint shadow of apricot flowers, bamboo flutes blew until dawn.
Twenty years seems like a spring dream. Although I am here, I look back with trepidation. Bored, I boarded the attic to watch the new rain. Throughout the ages, many historical stories have made fishermen sing in the middle of the night.
There are sentences about memories, but not about love. Many people say that the elderly prefer nostalgia, and now I am nostalgic. I may be really old. I can't help thinking of the past, those people who used to play a leading role in my life, or passers-by. I thought I would resolutely forget them, just as they resolutely forget me, but inadvertently, there will always be a long-forgotten person or shadow sneaking into my mind like a ghost. Life is like snow. Some things begin to melt before they are finished, but there are always some things that firmly occupy our minds and remain in our memories like fossils until we are old and vivid, and will not be worn away by years because of their smallness and meaninglessness, right? Life is really wonderful. Maybe in a few years, I will forget my college entrance examination score and the significance of my coming to this world. I am at a loss in this reinforced concrete, but I can still describe the afternoon sunshine, the pitted basketball court in detail, and remember our ruthless arrogance and her smile. Although I hate to say it, I know I will miss you. My teacher, my classmate, my best friend, and maybe the girl in the next class, but nothing can be reversed. I'm going to leave this familiar place, and maybe I'll pass strangers at the ends of the earth. Maybe I will die alone in another city, but please rest assured that you will always be young in my eyes until the earth is destroyed or I die. For me, writing this letter is like ripening my youth, which is cruel. So I will thank you. I think I will remember all this, the story of you, me, her being with us. They may be mottled but not blurred. I will think of you when I am sad, and I will think of you when I am confused. This is a kind of strength, which will support me forever and let me move forward bravely on the road of life. Finally, I want to say: I love you, love each of you, and love my youth.