It is the most beautiful moment to get up with this familiar feeling, walk to the balcony and find the scenery on campus. Every time the breeze blows, it comes in from the veins of the leaves, listening to the broken sound in the heart. On the quiet school road, there are no traces of moss stone steps, only lonely fallen leaves, spinning in the air and gradually dissipating. The basketball court has lost its former prosperity and can't find those brisk and vigorous postures. Only the dusty basketball was forgotten in the vines, as if it had been a whole century. In front of the library, the sparse figure is so dazzling in this sunless morning. It sits there quietly, guarding this quiet pure land and bearing the essence of ancient and modern sages at home and abroad. I looked far away at the trees in the mountains. I seem to hear the clear spring flowing, hitting the pebbles and making a gurgling sound. The cheerful chirping of cuckoos.
Qingyun haunts the mountain peak. I wonder if there are some confused fairies living on it. He will only bring those simple children an illusory dream and guide them to cling to an unreachable future. I stood on tiptoe, and in an instant I melted my face into an empty space and felt myself flying. I was surprised to find that Jin Fenghua in front of the dining hall was covered with branches, swaying warmly in the wind. It was the summer of the year. Time always walks quietly, thinking about every night in the future on the way to study.
The hand of memory likes to pick up beautiful sadness unconsciously, and the love in the hourglass is dribs and drabs, which is the ebb and flow of time and lament. I can't forget the day when I wrote poetry under the lamp. It was obviously a blank and happy time. There is a truth I want to say in the broken poem, but the fresh words have long lost their former glory. A gaunt face, a faded face. Who waits in the dark, looking for. As a result, I was tired. I hope the green light doesn't laugh at my confusion. In my heart, it's already a pool of stagnant water, and I can't turn over ripples. There is a tramp standing on the shore. He is sighing and insisting on the return of dandelion. Who is it? Hold up the faint sadness in my dream. Who is it again? Describe his bittersweet life in my memory. I'm afraid I'll fall into a swamp where I can't struggle. It is saturated with smiles, melancholy and shy years. It is squeezed out from the cracks of youth and full of vicissitudes.
Open the pages, it's quiet, close the pages, it's quiet. It's just that the corners of the mouth will rise slightly unconsciously. There are blossoming friendship flowers in it, which are gorgeous and fragrant and touch the thinnest nerves in the body. In the youth photo album, there are many moving pictures, which are my own stories. Standing on the shoulders of happiness, I ignored the solidity under my feet and yearned for happiness that should not belong to me. I really want to go back to the past. I really want to dance with you and talk about my dreams. Then I will write and write on the blue light night.
Stars come and go, the universe runs, the order of spring and autumn, people die and live. I am just a neglected frog, a wanderer who likes to see clouds, water, moon and mountains. Just because I am tired of dreams and reality, I am eager to transcend the tranquility of the world. How can a little everyman enjoy himself among mountains and rivers like Weng Tao? I know all these anxieties are unreasonable. It is obviously completely different to admit that time is cruel, dilute your youth and let people see through another person's inner world. Language exposed to the sun is so ferocious. Why bother? Obviously, it is a flower that has experienced wind and rain in the humble depths, but it is quietly opening. I'd rather live under the facts all my life, then I won't be disappointed in this hypocritical world at the moment.
It was a dim night, and in the quiet campus, lanterns were like day, walking on the street where the rain and leaves fell, stinging every leaf vein, as if they had gone through a period of lush years. Habitually forget unpleasant things, but find something that you can remember for a lifetime. That night, tears fell from the sky, but I felt very happy. This is the courage and expectation brought by growth. I always thought that I could not get out of the temptation of the forest, looking for the footprints of my dreams in it, indulging in listening to the birds singing in unison and listening to the leaves rustling in the wind. Maybe it's because I'm tired of the same harsh words, and every time after that, it will make me numb and tasteless. Now I am facing a terrible reality, which makes me indulge in the past, but I just learned to feel that things are different. Excuse me, where have you been, the young man who was persistent in his dreams and sunny?
The wings of youth cut through this painful memory. I understand that no one can accompany you to the end on this long and arduous runway. The people you love the most will gradually disappear from your world. I don't know how many passers-by there are in my life. They hurry, stop and go, or pass by.
Maybe one afternoon in the future, I will accidentally recall this pale memory, and then I will understand how hurt I am in the role.
Reciting one's own manuscript 5 Quiet night, still sleepless, soothing Irish organ, gently jumping on the keyboard with soft fingers, cutting out a period of silence, regardless of romance, just to listen to the inner voice, just for an exile.
Lyric prose: keep calm and indifferent to the fleeting time and turn a blind eye to the prosperity.
Once aimless, now I have fallen into this world, and Qian Fan has passed away. Looking back on that year, the purest dreams of the past have already drifted away and melted into the sunshine of memory. Now the years leave only desolate and mottled fragments. In those years, I squandered my best and brightest youth in the library, threw it on the playground, forgot it in the corner and lost it in my memory. In those years, I decorated your dreams with the brightest smile. Scholars talk about life, ideals and the future. Now, we are gathered in the deepest part of the world of mortals. All the drinking and the collision between cups are impermanent sighs and broken dreams. Heart in the end of the world, just an exile, do not envy the vicissitudes of life. I don't care whether the world will be warm or cold, and I'm not afraid of the joys and sorrows of life, just because my mind can fly freely. Walking on the world of mortals, a person's backpack on his shoulder is already full of human stories, but his heart is even more overwhelmed.
As a result, I always look back inadvertently and see that the songs in my memory have become classics, my childhood idols have been far away from the hubbub, and the familiar melody is that year. Sharp years have already thinned you and me, who were once full of flesh and blood, into a very thin backbone. When did we fall in love with misty rain just to bathe in the sunshine? When did you and I, who used to like wandering around the world, begin to yearn for a dull stability in our hands?
Ten thousand years is too long to seize the day, but I always stubbornly believe that in the rolling long river of history, we are all like duckweeds, like passers-by, just borrowing a body from the rings in endless time. The body can be disillusioned with life and death, and the soul can be free without explaining to anyone.
Baiyun in the sky has never had a home. In fact, people never have a real hometown. They just send them to see a few spring days temporarily, and wait for a few new moons to become round. Stay is an instant, turn is the horizon. The emperor shunzhi said: Who was I before I was born? Who was I when I was born? Once upon a time, we came into this world in tears, bringing endless joy to our loved ones, falling in the midst of prosperity, leaving with a smile, and bringing eternal sadness to our loved ones. A casual parting, perhaps, took away the lonely smoke of the desert river, the beauty of the water town in the south of the Yangtze River, the sad huqin, pipa and Qiangdi, and the misty rain in the bluestone alley.
If it is really possible, let me remain indifferent to the fleeting time, regardless of prosperity, I am willing; If my fate is arranged, I will wander around the world and walk in the rivers and lakes, and I am willing to accept it.
After so many storms, I persist, but I am no longer sharp. It turns out that when people reach a certain age, they only pursue calmness and calmness. When they turn around beautifully, today is the day you can't go back. However, no matter how long we are influenced by the secular fireworks, no matter how deeply we are immersed in the turbid world, there is always a cleanest, warmest and most cautious corner in our hearts, which will always be as quiet as ever. As long as we are in the world, none of us can escape from the world of mortals. Tang, Weaver Girl, Cangyang Jiacuo, Nalan Xingde, Shu Manshu, Xu Zhimo, Lin, and even Sanmao Jose, it took them six years to live up to expectations, seven years to snuggle up to each other, and then leave for life, whether you are an emperor or a pawn. It's golden branches and jade leaves, or rouge powder. No one is an exception.
Looking back on the past, I realized that not only hard liquor can make people intoxicated, but also love can make people forget. Sometimes, a light one in Mika can last longer; An unintentional one is even more unforgettable; A simple period can last a lifetime. The years are quiet, the world is cold, the waves are calm, and the books and swords fall together. It is not only me who walks on the banks of the years, but also the years and many people.