Song Xiaojie's Silent is a Farewell Flute
There is a pain of silent parting, just drifting away.
Wake up from the edge of the dream, vaguely hear the sound of wheels passing through the rain curtain at night, through the sound of early morning, or through the past. I don't know when, a shower suddenly arrival, silently nourishing infiltration. Outside the window, the leaden sky is gloomy, like endless leisure.
Forgot which direction the original route was going; Forgot whether it was sunny or cloudy; Forgot how to find the oasis at a glance; I forgot how the first gesture of tying fate waved in a hurry. In the last cloud, I saw the departure of Yinze; In the last drop of rain, I saw your hesitant tears.
How immortal is a quiet parting? I still don't understand, who is driving the train of memory through the tunnel of time in the dark and roared away? When the silence of the past is restored all around, will there be a precocious leaf among the many trees along the road that can't help but fall sadly? The remaining leaves are still intact and silent. The dust of the years has settled. Ordinary life is often changed by a string of ordinary eyes or a jumping idea. Unintentionally, intentionally.
Quiet parting is an empty forest path covered with gold leaves after rain; It is a freehand brushwork of Chinese painting, full of distant poetry; It is graceful music in the middle of the night, slowly fading away; People are getting closer and closer, but hearts are pulling apart.
A damp steam floated away like a light smoke. The warmth melts like frost.
Is there any fishbone left in my throat? I imagine how the bloody sunset reflects the water, your thoughtful eyes and your weather-beaten face. Imagine how the green hills like Dai disappeared in the rugged darkness and the dead of night that enveloped my life. Although said a lot, to the sea, to the moon, to you. But I still remember one of the most important words I haven't said yet. It is the sacred joy that exaggerates the kindness of unknown origin, and it is the frankness and stubbornness in the bone marrow that draws everything out and changes everything.
Tenderness is the last fire left by the bustling world, igniting the soul; It was the last bullet of honesty, and it hit the truth. How to grasp it without heart? But there must be something hidden behind time. Quietly, it is the reason why the land turns green and the river changes course. Similarly, it is also the reason why tears roll down and blood cools. In short, it is the reason to live bravely.
Still have to catch up quickly? I am too far away from the real separation, too far away. The scenery is as quiet as a fish, dusty in the eternal moment of crustal changes hundreds of millions of years ago. In the surprises and sighs of tourists again and again, our eternal pain is unobstructed. The heart turns gray slowly, then becomes dark, sad and hard.
It's not late autumn yet, but my mind is full of maple leaves, falling flowers and green grass. A sad beauty, a broken beauty, a residual beauty. Majestic and heavy breathing. Why can't the four seasons of life completely coincide with the four seasons of reality? However, a keen heart has an inertial connection with the richness and scarcity of reality. Before late autumn, I saw the empty fields after harvest and the light bamboo baskets on my wrists. I hate my ignorance. Simple land does not favor any seeds unless something blocks the way from seeds to fruits.
On the platform, the stars pour and stare silently; Next to the trestle, the whistle blew loudly and the blue boat hurried. A charming and graceful word, a heartbroken flute. Nowhere to park. Nowhere to park. In silence, worry and forget; In silence, ecstasy and ecstasy.
How far is this distant life? I slowly left your sight and your inner harbor in the process of exploration. At sunset, deep in the willow waves, his cordial greetings came from the roadside pavilion, like the sound of a flute floating in the running water. Ripples, like smoke and fog, are gentle and charming and have character; Sadness is like a dream, full of determination in lingering. Destined to have such ethereal rhyme to touch the heavy life. I know the ending clearly.
Take away your bay and light up my life.