When the ancients were blindly embarking on official careers and earning fame and fortune, who was it? Even if you are frustrated in life, you can sing all the way in life?
He is Li Bai
dressed in a white shirt and gilded gold saddle. When you went out of Chang 'an with a sword and ink and wash on horseback, people expected you to write continuous poems to please the king in exchange for glory. And you just want to sing at any time, take off your boots and grind ink at the DPRK, and put a white deer between the green cliffs at the DPRK, so you are doomed to be lonely, "till, raising my cup, I asked the bright moon, to bring me my shadow and make us three", but you are singing Huan Ge "Laughing at the sky and going out, is our generation a Artemisia?"
when we look back at the Tang dynasty, it is not the emperor who stood in the middle of the prosperous Tang dynasty, but you!
When wine enters the luxurious intestines, seven points become poems, and the remaining three points become firm but gentle, which has responded to the prosperous Tang Dynasty for decades.
He is Su Dongpo.
Ten years of life and death are two boundless. In that year, when you were in till, raising my cup, I asked the bright moon, you didn't hesitate to pick up all the cold branches. People's expectations for you were to indulge in mountains and rivers and play games in the world. And you, just want to sing all the way in that star-studded era, your singing has awakened those souls who are used to the night, and you are doomed to bear the sewage poured by officialdom and literary circles together. And I only saw you write a clear wave of "a misty rain for life" by a pen that was wet with rain.
you stick to yourself, so as to reach a height that future generations will look up to forever.
With green bamboo branches and sandals on your feet, your smile is calm and free, and your eyes are only open-minded with autumn wind and green water.
He is Xin Qiji.
When you hated the ancients and didn't know you were a madman, people expected you to sing songs all the way in that hedonistic era. You denounced "You don't dance, you don't see me, Yuhuan swallows are all loess", and you hesitated "Look at the sword while you were drunk, and blow horns in your dreams."
In BMW, cars are carved all over the road, and you insist on being an Iraqi in a dimly lit place.
If you wear a thin gown, you will March into history, from ancient times and from yellow thread-bound books. It is you, because, singing all the way, sticking to yourself, also guarding the eternal spiritual home in the dark.
in those flashy times, it was you who sang songs all the way, put aside secular expectations and protected yourself, thus protecting history.