Life and death are broad, and the child becomes a child; Hold your hand and grow old with your son. -"National Wind". Taifeng "drums"
They say that seasons are rings in people's minds. In the light that flows day after day, what you can't forget in the end, and what you can't let go, are just precipitated and engraved in the nearest place to your soul. People often don't know it, but one day they are surprised to see their wrinkled faces in the mirror, only to find that the vicissitudes of time have marks every year.
As an ancient poem goes, the breeze begins at the end of qingping. And I often think about love and non-love, where the wind and water in the entanglement between love and love begin and where they will end ... We meet again in our respective lives. Do you understand all this, or do I understand it?
Spring has come, watching people come and go, with their own joys and sorrows, coming face to face, but also passing away. This is how the seasons change. People who walk in the world are as fragile as butterflies.
On a whim, I really want to go to an ancient village in the south of the Yangtze River. I really want to take a trip to that narrow bluestone alley. I want to hear the echo of the sound. I want to take a ferry and drown 3,000 people in the secular world. Let time be an oar and take me to the other side. Don't worry about whether I will miss the prosperity of this shore. Just a stranger in the world of mortals. Who is the ferry?
As the Buddhist proverb says, there is no love in the world of mortals. Then, please allow me to brush away the prosperity of this sleeve. Whether it's the red lotus or the green leaves that crossed me in previous lives, I just want to jump over the floating smoke in front of the ferry at dusk so as not to be contaminated with dust.
And you, do you remember those long stories?
A man's favorite woman is married and the groom is not him. He was heartbroken and prepared to climb the cliff to die. There is a temple called Baiyun on the cliff. At the moment when the man jumped, the abbot of Baiyun Temple held him. Donor, the abbot said softly with his hands folded, do you want to come with me? It's not too late to see something before you jump. The man walked into the meditation room with doubts. The abbot took out a bowl and brushed it casually with his sleeve. The man leaned over and found that it was another world. A woman died naked on the roadside. Passers-by either covered their noses or just shook their heads gently, but no one stopped. After a while, a scholar who went to Beijing to catch the exam passed by here. He really can't bear to see that woman naked for others to see. He hesitated, then took off his coat and put it on the woman before turning away. A few days later, another kind passerby raised some money, bought a coffin and buried the woman. The picture in the bowl has faded away.
Men still don't understand. Donor, the old abbot shook his head and said, this is your past life. The woman lying on the side of the road is the one you love most in this life. You are the first scholar to pass by and catch the exam. The man who married her was the second person to bury her. You are predestined friends with her, because she wants to repay your kindness in the last life, so she will accompany you through this journey in this life, but she will leave eventually, because what she needs to repay in this life is the person who buried her in the last life. So, do you still want to dance? The abbot shut up and turned away. Men understand.
So that's it, so that's it.
Life is pious and gentle. The scenery we walked through, the people we loved, the past we regretted, the mistakes one after another, and the cold steps of looking back at the old footprints on the long road of life are all so simple, right? But can those promises that have been made, those worries that have been lost in the past days, and those moments that are caught off guard really pass by like this?
Life and death are broad, and they care for each other; Hold your hand and grow old with your son. The ancient promises kept by women in many dynasties gradually spread in their hands, like floating leaves falling from flowers, separating my words from my class and imprisoning my pen. ...
And my dear friend, can I step in your footsteps and let you listen quietly? These square fonts are piled up. Please don't think this is just a word game. Perhaps my pen is too blunt to penetrate this thin paper back. The real things I want to tell you about life and time still stay quietly in the reflection of the years and never leave.
So in this life, if you love, you will love. Please hold those hands and don't lose each other in the world of mortals. So go on, go to eternity, go to the end of the years, go to the other side of Naihe Bridge, and feel grateful at the moment when I pick up Meng Po Tang. Thank you for being with me all your life.
Or in this life, if you miss it, you will miss it. Don't regret, don't resent, don't ask endlessly, and don't entangle who is right or wrong. The secular world is like a complicated black-and-white card, and the noise outside the edge is engraved on the side of Sansheng Stone. It was not easy for us to meet.
So, I just want to tell you, don't hurt a person easily, learn to forget those entanglements and grievances. Those who come and go in life, no matter how far they accompany you, please say goodbye when they are destined to part. From now on, you are you, I am me, we are even, and we go our separate ways towards happiness. Cn)。 Even if we meet in a dream, we don't say hello, just smile and pass by, and we won't meet again in the ninth reincarnation. Since love is a thing of the past, love has been missed, so why cling to it in my heart?
This trip should have a reincarnation. Life is like a misty rain. Who can keep who forever, and what is real long-term? Time in the season is like sand, and it is a sea change in a blink of an eye. How many rock-solid promises are there? Where are they now?
So, lend me a boat and spend 3 thousand yuan to see the world of mortals. Please take me to the other side. It is said that the years have melted the calm, and some people say that I will keep walking until the river stops my way, and then sit and watch the rising clouds every day.