Poetry is quiet and beautiful. New words. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Remember, that was a long time ago. Just like a young and ignorant girl, she can't stop when she meets a handsome and clean man. Thinking, reading, and love.
In a beautiful notebook, I wrote a poem with a quiet heart. Over and over again. I'm scared, I'm scared. Such a unique word has been forgotten by me. Next to the seven-inch photo, I wrote it down in official script. The poem was quiet and beautiful. Simple four words, it is cool breeze, dispel summer heat; It's warm and cold. I forget where it came from and from which book I met it. But I believe that all the encounters in the world are reunions after a long separation. It's not just relatives who are reunited. And, and, like a sentence, a piece of music, an oil painting, a wild flower by the roadside. ...
All the good things in life can't be forgotten. To forget the beauty of a moment is to pass by the happy mood. Put all the good things in the past in the photo album of life. Leave it as a memory.
Poetry is quiet, beautiful, romantic, poetic and quiet. Every word is a pearl, with a soft and quiet breath. Like wild flowers in the mountains, they bloom alone and silently exude a faint fragrance. It's not arrogant at all, it's not overbearing at all, and it's lonely and beautiful inside. It is as quiet as a mountain, as clear as water, as bright as the moon and as carefree as a cloud.
A poetic heart is poetry in the heart. This feeling, with a poetic feeling, is very light, warm and romantic. It is the joy of the return of geese in spring; It is a pity to say goodbye before summer and spring; It is the sadness of autumn flowers withering; It is the love of snowflakes dancing in winter. It is the homesickness of "being a stranger alone in a foreign land, and thinking of my relatives every holiday"; It is the friendship that "Peach Blossom Pond is deeper than thousands of feet, not as good as Wang Lun". This emotion is the collision between human mind and natural mind, and the communication between human life and natural life. I don't want to tell people the joys and sorrows, and pin my feelings on the bright moon, spring grass, snowflakes and birds.
Poetic heart. Poetic life in life. It is lofty, extravagant and divorced from real life. It can't bring us material enjoyment and satisfy all our greed. It is immaterial and exists in the spiritual world. It is a unique, quiet, dust-free and spiritual life. The cruelty of reality, people's poetic heart, buried by secular life, has long been sleeping in the noisy secular. When we are far away from the people we love, we no longer think of "looking up, I found it was moonlight, and then sinking, I suddenly thought of home"; When you are sad, you no longer remember "how much sadness you can have, just like a river flowing eastward"; Youth fades away, forgetting that "time is fleeting, cherries turn red, bananas turn green" ...
Poetic heart. It is the spiritual pillar. Only people with high spirits can have this rare feeling. Don't let it fall asleep, it's waiting, waiting for us to stop and wake it up. Come on, come on, poetic, very close to us. It is enough to live with an artistic eye. It is the wild flowers on the roadside, the birds in the sky, the fish in the water and the sunset glow on the horizon.
On the full moon night of August 15, put aside laughter and laughter for the time being, go out of the house, look up at the bright moon and enjoy the long-lost moonlight; It is raining. I came to the lotus pond with an oil-paper umbrella and listened to the sound of lotus leaves. Pick up a flaming maple leaf and give it to a distant lover, which brings me deep thoughts. In the season of snowflakes flying, walk out of the room as warm as spring, stretch out your slender hands, warm the falling snowflakes and say hello, snowflakes.
In winter, watch the fire. Or, light a red candle. I came to Tao Yuanming's courtyard around the fence and watched his children frolicking around him. Smell the flowers in the quiet night, and the flowers and plants are scattered in the moon. Warm a pot of wine and invite Mingyue to drink with him in the courtyard until late at night. Walk into Wang Wei's residence, sit beside Shi Fo and listen to him burn incense and read the Bible. Go into Ye Zhi's words, review the poem When We Are Old, and write a letter to her far away, telling her that I love your old face more, hold your hand and grow old with your son. Turn on the computer, listen to an ancient song, spread out rice paper, and draw a lotus flower in your heart. Go into the mountains and listen to the sound of the stream flowing. Come to the lake and watch the sunset fall into the lake. ...
Poetic mind is peace of mind. A person who can settle his heart in a poetic life may be poor and humble. But he must be a spiritual aristocrat. She lives poetically and knows how to walk in the red dust of life with an artistic heart and return to real life. He loves all the beauty, all the beauty of nature. She enjoys life and only enjoys the simplicity and simplicity in her heart. He (she) has a holy heart, such as abundant spring water, moist and full of artistic flavor, and the taste of poetry brings him a beautiful and happy life.
A poetic heart is quiet and beautiful. Like painted pottery, it has a long and ancient meaning. Very simple and quiet. Be free from vulgarity, away from the hubbub, away from the world of mortals, and be yourself. Such a person is an autumn leaf and a summer lotus. Don't aim too high, don't strive for fame and gain, and manage every day seriously and poetically. This kind of life is like a water lily in Monet's moonlight, which opens quietly, smells quietly and withers quietly.
Poetry is quiet and beautiful. Simple four words, containing ancient rhyme, quiet and beautiful. However, it makes sense. ...
Poetic heart, quiet beauty. A wonderful life. I, like it.