A roll of amazing embroidery slowly unfolded, so beautiful, every stitch and every thread was so painful, but the embroidered cloth persisted. Leave it to our descendants, that amazing beauty.
How many women in the world dare to do this and shed their blood on the magnificent mountains and rivers in the prosperous Tang Dynasty? That night, the sudden wind and rain beat mercilessly against the phoenix tree outside the window. Wu Zetian, a king, was crying alone at the window. I don't know if the crystal on the buttonwood is tears or rain. A woman like water suffered many curses, but he persisted. But a petal is like her face, a willow leaf is like her eyebrow, laughing and laughing, Datang is in your hand, a mountain flower is smiling, looking back and smiling, your beauty is as beautiful as your persistence.
If Wu Zetian's persistence is strong, then there is another kind of woman's persistence that is euphemistic.
In troubled times, there is always a smile from the world of mortals, and you on the bank of Daming Lake smile like a flower. I once wanted to win a person's heart, and I never left. However, your husband left before you, letting you taste the loneliness and sadness of the yellow crane carrying saints to heaven alone a long time ago. With your husband and your efforts, you ran around, but you persisted and didn't give up the same wish as your husband.
The author tried to cover up my excellent collection.
I want you to stand on high.
Neon street lamps and bustling night scenes, I want you to stand in the highest corner of the city.
The drizzle added a lot of color to the city. It drips across the bridge fence, like a small meteor, making you open your arms and close your eyes. It kissed my forehead, slowly extended to my forehead and finally slipped to my lips.
Quietly listening to the rain, listening to the horn of the city car ... I think of you in my heart. Think of our scene in rainy days, running hand in hand in the grass in rainy days, and the moment you look back becomes the most beautiful picture in rainy days, and the flowers and plants on the roadside all bow their heads shyly ...! I remember you said "meet the right person at the wrong time", yes, so we all cherish this late fate. Tonight's light rain is like my yearning for you, lingering. I always feel that the world with you passes too fast. Half a year is like a meteor, long or short, but too many things have happened in this half year. Thank you for helping me untie the knot and go through the ups and downs. At this time, happiness thinks I am a very lucky person.
The rain soaked my clothes and my long hair clung to my cheeks. Today is the fifteenth day of my return to my hometown. The closer I am to Hebei, the more I miss you. It suddenly occurred to me that I don't want to be apart from you, even for a minute. I can't help but slip a drop of rain into my eyes and blend in.
Listen, what a quiet city, it seems that there is only the sound of rain. Did it rain in your house tonight? Are you thinking about me at the moment? On this autumn night, I stand at the top of the city and miss you on the other side ... Can you feel it? Wait for me, I'll be on my way home in two days!
Mo Chen Xianghong collected by the author.
Looking back, it is boundless.
The wind is blowing like a broken flower, and your smile is swaying, becoming the most beautiful ornament in my life, watching the sky, watching the rain and watching the deep shadow of the season. -inscription
Time has become the sharpest knife to mercilessly carve your face, separating us from the invisible side. I wonder why we grew up in the wind in a flash. Those bloom's gone, those flowers have fallen, and where have those pure and clear times gone? Is it like the lyrics in "The Story of Time": In the romantic poem, I grew up year by year, and the story of running water took away time and changed several people, just in that sentimental youth that I first waited for?
My youth is a song, and you are a mobilized note on the staff, synthesizing an unparalleled melody that runs through my whole youth. With you, we won't be alone. In the hard and happy years, we walked hand in hand, and laughter filled our ordinary life. You patted me on the back and said, "boss, have you finished the task assigned by the class teacher?" She told you to hurry! "
"Boss, it's boring. Shall we go for a stroll? "
"Boss, run, you'll be late!" Looking back on the past, four years of high school have come to an end unconsciously. The moment I walked out of the school gate, I said goodbye to my memories of youth, and all my memories were deeply branded in my deepest heart. There are still many ways to go in the future, and we will welcome a better tomorrow with good memories. But in this strange city, I live a busy and full life every day, but who knows the emptiness and loneliness in my heart? This may be a knot that can never be opened, or it may be quietly untied at some time in the future, leaving me with an unsolved suspense.
My youth is a poem, my story with you is a constant ups and downs in the poem, and the scene with you is a beautiful artistic conception in the poem. From the time I walked into the school gate with my schoolbag on my back to the time I waved goodbye to you and walked out of the school gate. Youth is its theme. In those years, we were crazy, stupid, laughing and crying together. The seemingly absurd youth brings us indelible memories. Adult youth is like a movie, which is full of fun to recall. Turning over the poems of youth, I still see that we are still childish, bleeding with Fang Gang's blood and burning with passion. The ending is another scene, and a new journey is waiting for me to explore and explore.
My youth is an old wine, and your friendship lasts for a long time, Mika. No matter who is experiencing new things, they are more or less fresh, and curiosity will guide you to keep trying. "Hi, hello, my name is XXX, nice to meet you!"
"Oh, that's right, so later call you boss, ok? You will be the boss of our class in the future! "
"Boss, how many times have you said? You are so annoying! " Without freshness, life will become dull as water, like Pinghu, and it will become the wine of youth under the fermentation of years. I took a sip of the old wine of youth, which was a little bitter and a little sweet, and the more memorable it was, the sweeter it became. Once the sea was hard to touch the water, but forever amber, you will be my exclusive memory, in my heart forever, and become my old cellar when I miss you.
Poetry, wine and music are the best summaries of our youth. If I don't expect it, I'll be busy all day. If I look forward to it, how can my memories have an end? How can I forget? How can I forget?
I received your electronic photo album yesterday, and my eyes were wet after reading it. One is always on a strange road, watching strange scenery and listening to strange songs. Then one day, you will find that people around you are no longer old people. The cool breeze blowing now, looking at the rain outside the window, is sighing: the road is still long, at least we are still young!
If there is tomorrow, the boss will take you and pretend to take you flying.
On transposition thinking
In real life, we just lack empathy and empathy, lack of understanding of life, and sometimes we are obsessed with things that are not satisfactory, always angry and fighting, and sometimes we hurt our friends. Some people are always the best thinking people in the world. They don't forgive when things happen, they are competitive and do nothing but do evil. Some people can't take it easy, just focus on the immediate future and do things that make their parents sad; Some people complain about life blindly, thinking that life is unfair to them, and sometimes they resent their parents for not being born in a rich family, but instead of being grateful, they turn against each other. Such examples are common in our lives and appear from time to time.
Some people suffer some setbacks, they will be depressed, insensitive to everything around them and lose confidence in life. This is our lack of gratitude for life, not putting ourselves in others' shoes, not thinking about others. This kind of thinking is universal. As long as we think from the perspective of empathy, this kind of thing can be solved without any additional conditions.
In this world, our parents are the people we are most grateful to, so that they give us life and everything in our life. As children, we can never repay the kindness of our parents. In this world, as long as parents don't love anything in return, we will always give our children a gift to enjoy for life. First of all, we should be grateful to our parents and worry more about them, so that they can live a healthy and happy life and enjoy everything in life.
Empathy is the best way of thinking in the world. We can use this kind of thinking to solve the unfavorable factors of disharmony in life. With more gratitude in life, the contradictions in life will be reduced, the social atmosphere will be strong, the interpersonal relationship will be harmonious, the neighborhood relationship will be harmonious and the social relationship will be harmonious.
Empathy is not a simple question, but a profound reflection. We have a grateful heart everywhere. When we treat everything in life, we will realize what life has given us. We don't envy others, we don't expect others, and we don't show off individuals. Only what we have is the truest.
Empathy is a realm of life, which can best reflect the moral principle of being kind to yourself and others, and it is also our code of conduct!
Hourglass time
Old times, old movies, old songs, all the fragments are the marks of youth. On the other hand, I was lucky enough to see memories when I was looking through photos, and then I remembered things long ago. ...
-inscription
I am a nostalgic person; I like to sit in the old days, a meditation, a wisp of dust incense, a past, and slowly recall. Look, the willows outside the window are green again and the flowers are in bloom. Year after year, time quietly passed through my fingers. Sometimes, sleeping, meditating, on the table-lying down, supported by two hands; In this way, from youth to middle age, slowly coming. After all, we are getting old through our fingers.
I often think of old houses, old furniture and old days. Vaguely unforgettable, on the desk, in the mahogany drawer where the paint has fallen, there is an old camera from the 1990s. I have long forgotten the time. When did you start putting it there? How many pieces of light and shadow are there? How many years has it lived? Once, those old papers and some favorite tapes that were not recorded in time have been quietly dusted for a long time; Old photos, unrequited love letters, are more or less faded and yellow. That is the criminal trace of the unbridled years in time, and it is the footprint that we came from playing green youth.
For the past, I was always touching the scene, and the breeze came from Ren Xulai to pull my thoughts for a long time. The time coming from a long time is vague but clear; I stay in the lane of memory, left and right; Half bright and half dark. In the old days, you were sitting on a cane chair with a cup of light tea and your long hair fluttering, while I was reading Mr. Zhu Ziqing's prose and chewing slowly. Trivial routine, you and I often indulge in books and travel everywhere.
The old books on the shelf are still in a mess. In Poems of Xichuan North Island, Zizhu pondered and sighed in the feud between Xu Zhimo and Xiao Manlin. The most popular ones are Chen Huan in the past. Think of Aileen's remorse as low as dust, Hu Lancheng is a romantic life; I remember that at that time, Haizi's sadness and lofty sentiments were sensational, and our youth was full of passion. Longing for love and talent. What we yearn for, that kind of amazing love that disregards the common customs and devotes all one's life, is what we worship: bloom is warm in spring and ethereal facing the sea.
Youth is half laughter and half tears. The wind is blowing. On a cool night, the stars smile tirelessly in the deep sky. It is a kind of pale blue sadness, like the temptation of an elf. Always at such times, I like to walk alone, elope with myself and the whole world; The night is your own, the darkness is your own, and the silence is your own. I always feel that when I was young, I thought too much and was too naive. I believe in eternal love and that fate is in my hands, but in the end I have nothing but memories to keep me warm.
Perhaps, thin and cool is a verb, so cold that it makes people sad and sad, and it is the gift with the deepest memory. People left, leaving only photos and pen marks. I don't know why, but I always feel sad when I write, even though bloom died, even though those things have passed. But I always miss my old love and old days. Like faded cotton cloth, it is doomed to be unforgettable after the wind and frost.
We are always irresistible, wandering, in the past corridors, corners, alleys, picking up humming old songs. Pentium, like a torrent, like white wine, in the time when we are getting old, vicissitudes and calmness have already become the imprint of our past, printed on the tip of our hair and engraved on the eyebrows. Memory is like frost, stuck to my heart, once like a song, rising and falling. 10 years ago, ignorance of the world was as simple as water. Ten years later, my face was quiet and cold.
Trivial time, trivial fleeting time, past, nostalgia, future, expectation. Faint sunshine, faint sadness, I whisper in the dark, just want to take a look at myself again; Young, persistent, pursuing unrestrained and chic.
The author's collection of Liang Wang's works
To Youth —— A Letter to Heartbreaking Melancholy
A long-lost oil-paper umbrella covered the time when the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River was lower than the eaves.
The green radish brushed the skirt, the warm wind blew through the eaves, and Qingyun wet the promise. I am waiting for the return of an old dream, which is affectionate and leisurely, like endless loneliness and inexplicable sadness, and once made people crazy in love.
I thought that after experiencing the rush of life and tasting all kinds of fireworks in the world, I could bear the vicissitudes of life without complaint, but the years are clear and stable, while the youth is still endless and unscathed.
Once, youth was so beautiful, like a ray of bright sunshine, shining warmly on my chest; Once, youth was so beautiful, like a faint breeze, sweeping away the desolation and sadness of the world. Jiangnan, with soft mountains and warm water, has youthful faces that we will never forget, and those youthful faces may be ourselves; Maybe it belongs to someone else. I feel blue in the misty rain.
Youth has gone so smartly. In my memory, in my waiting, after the joys and sorrows, I was left with a beautiful back. Unable to withstand the endless pastimes of youth, I learned to be rebellious and forbearing, and gradually understood what is called "pretentious" and what is called "happy-go-lucky".
Youth makes me feel inexplicably disappointed. I thought all the encounters were reunions after a long separation, but in fact, I had to say goodbye to last summer. Time is too thin, and I am too young to think back for a while. The world of mortals trapped my fleeting time, and I felt extremely lost. It was wordless pain and heartfelt melancholy.
Youth is so beautiful, mountains and water can be paired together, the day and the month can be irrelevant, and the city that once promised the end of time is getting thinner and thinner in the drizzle. Life is short, youth is too hasty, and a firm heart will not let me give up halfway. I got up to go wandering, but at the moment, my memory lacks some lasting appeal that years should have. I am slowly moving towards maturity and vicissitudes.
Complex and busy city life, let us learn to carnival, after the carnival, anxiety is swept away, but depression is also accompanied by loneliness; How many people's embarrassing words are blocked by absurd souls, and even arrogant souls can't find a reason to fly away. Sometimes, loneliness is so exciting, and only at this moment can things be so calm.
Once, I pretended to be happy, and my eyes showed superficial happiness. Others thought it was happiness, and gradually, I even felt like I was really happy. Youth, with unknown bitterness, makes me afraid to approach, but reluctant to leave. For an instant, I felt extremely disappointed. It was the dependence on the wind, but it broke my heart.
Youth is too changeable, and my eyes are full of tears, not because of sadness, nor because of ruthlessness, but because of the unspeakable pain and heartfelt melancholy that youth has brought me, and even more because of my inner reluctance. I felt the unhappiness of my youth, which allowed me to live in that year, but unknown so suddenly lost consciousness. In a trance, I saw my melancholy back, deep in my soul. Life is erratic, and slowly I learned to adapt to it.
Bloom flowers, sadness into the sea. Only the pain left by youth, breathing in different shades in the middle of the night.
Autumn, memory
In autumn, walking in the forest path is printed with gold everywhere. Far away, falling flowers are intentional, and flowing water is ruthless. Looking back, rain or shine. Time sighs, everything has passed. Sigh, life is impermanent, bloom flowers fall, friends eventually become strangers. Listen, a Sanskrit, surrounded by thoughts, calm and peaceful. Thinking, a memory, after all, things are different and buried in the bottom of my heart.
Autumn, bid farewell to the lush. Under the rustling of trees, yellow leaves dance in the autumn wind. If you travel to Yichun, you will miss it like autumn, but if you don't smell it, it will be like Sanqiu if you don't see it for a day. The fiery red maple leaves are flying in the air, less lonely and more hot.
Autumn, a fallen leaf, floating in the wind, is it sad? Flowers wither, turn into soil, and then worry? Have you ever thought that fallen leaves are happy in the eyes of poets! Maybe everything has two sides, so there is no reason to be sad or happy.
Time flies. Feel the change of seasons, taste the bitterness of life and move on. Those memories are gone. In the past, I can only miss it faintly. In the future, I can only let nature take its course. Just want peace of mind.
This autumn may be like a epiphyllum, brief and beautiful. Bloom flowers fall, the origin is doomed. That sadness, that smile, that waiting, have been slowly buried in the long river of time with the fallen leaves. Never think, never forget.
Time is like water. In the long river of memory, some stories are buried, some promises are broken, and some memories can only be hidden in my heart forever. That memory can only affect the wounds of memory again and again.
This autumn, I don't want to, don't want to, don't read, don't read. I just want to sit by the window and watch the time go by. Life is so fragile. In the distance, the sound of the piano is long, like a wisp of smoke, lingering in my heart. Silk is like a dream.
Under the old vine tree, watch the clouds roll and relax, and listen to the wind. Appreciate a Sanskrit, recite a poem, taste a cup of tea, send a sadness and bury a memory.