All endings have been written.
All the tears have also flowed out.
I suddenly forgot what kind of beginning this was.
On that ancient summer day that is gone forever.
No matter how hard I pursue it,
Young you are just passing by.
And your smile is extremely shallow.
Gradually disappeared into the mist after sunset.
Then open the yellow title page.
Fate has bound it badly.
I read and read with tears in my eyes.
But I have to admit.
Youth is a book that is too hasty.
On the evening of forty-five.
Suddenly I remembered her young eyes.
Think of the summer when she was sixteen.
Walking slowly towards him from the hillside.
The sunshine outside the forest is dazzling.
Her skirt is so white.
Remember that hill full of tea trees?
A cloudy sky
Or cicadas in my ears.
In the silent forest
When I come here tonight, I like to look back at that mountain road.
Only to find that our days are over.
In a completely different way
I've been here and gone.
A vision so enthusiastically planned.
Such a blueprint drawn carefully and accurately.
I was so eager for youth.
But never, never been here.
Extended data:
Appreciation of youth:
There is only one sentence at the beginning of the poem: "All endings have been written and all tears have started". The infinite sadness about the passing of youth and the infinite bitterness about the short life seem to cover the sky at once and firmly grasp the readers' hearts. Like tears of parting, it moistens every sensitive and fragile life.
Youth is a feeling of walking with life. When I followed the author and watched youth drift away like smoke, the bonfire of life burned brightly. The author seems to have read all the vicissitudes of life, looking up at today's situation and recalling the rosy clouds of the past. Tears wet not only the hard-to-find youth, but also the ruthless life.
Youth is beautiful, short and sad, and the author's regret for youth is an amplification of his understanding of life. Both life and youth cannot be copied, and both life and youth have colorful colors. Youth is a book too hasty, and life is also a book too hasty. Remembering the youth causes us to think about cherishing life.