When the darkness of night passes through the heart of the sky, who do you miss in your lonely dream?
The blooming of flowers indicates the prosperity of this season, and the blooming of love indicates the warmth of this moment.
Lonely souls are floating in the dark night sky with the wind, and the breeze blows through the ear and floats away with coolness. On the night when the evening breeze blows the willows, who is writing at his desk to tell his thoughts for many years, and who is trouble sleeping in the quiet night?
The hurried pace of the season pushed down the enchanting blooming flowers. Ruthless years have broken the love between who and who. That year's pledge of eternal love is long gone.
In the shallow time, many people are unhappy, not because they don't know how to live, but because this dissatisfied heart pursues too much.
There are many reasons to leave, and there is only one reason to choose to be together.
What you give is what you get. This is the best excuse for you to leave. Perhaps the people who leave are the most relieved, but the pain is left to those who insist on staying.
Whenever the dead of night, the door of memory quietly opens, drawing a once warm and touching picture, but there is no sweetness in my heart, only loneliness and sadness.
Love is destined to flow under the bridge.
Whenever the warm morning sun rises and the morning dew is covered with green leaves, I will stand quietly in the cold wind and look at the morning scene in the distance. My clear eyes are full of cold wind and frost. The place where the line of sight touches is your missing.
The past is like smoke, no matter how beautiful we meet, we will be buried in the dust under the precipitation of time.
Endless loneliness, endless elegy, and the journey of the world of mortals, who will be lonely?
A brief encounter brings a lifetime of separation. How many expectant watchers have a happy ending? How much affection and sincerity do you have in your life? Flowers bloom and fall, and all you have is the rich fragrance when it blooms.
It is raining heavily today.
This notice was announced on the school radio last night. After lunch, it began to get dark, and gray clouds began to follow, as if the sky were falling.
The white shirt is pressing my back, my long hair is messy, and I am struggling with the newspaper I just bought. I can hardly see a few keywords: w-inds. , Hong Kong. There were dark marks of copper coins in the newspaper, and I looked up-the rain really came.
It is known that it is raining heavily today. Why is it still so messy? Or is this the opportunity I've been waiting for?
I leaned my head back, and the cool liquid dripped from the scattered flowers, slid across my cheeks and crossed my neck, which was vaguely refreshing.
Do you know that?/You know what? Do you know that?/You know what? Actually, I was surprised when I looked up. That pink flower, falling from the sky, is still chic in the rain. To my surprise, it took me so many years to finally get its name, Bauhinia! If you remember, you can't help but turn your mouth upwards.
Bauhinia, what a beautiful name! Like a poem, no more, no less, just explaining the appearance of flowers. That's what we called it at first, pod flower, which lasted for more than ten years.
At that time, the school in the village, even the teaching building was tilted, and so many bauhinia flowers were planted. The school is full of bright pink flowers, and swaying pods can be seen faintly between clusters of bouquets and overlapping leaves. It was raining at that time-just like now, everyone is away, but you are holding my hand and dancing briskly. How far is it from here to there?
At that time, when we were young, you liked to call me a "boy", rub my hair just up to my neck with your little hand, dig out colorful rainbow candy in my dirty red schoolbag, and hand me messy notes in class. At that time, we were also stupid. In order to prevent the birds from being trapped by the heavy rain, we spent two days building a shed with stones and fences in my yard, only to find that it was full of bedbugs and eight-legged animals the next day.
It is raining harder and harder. If you are here, you will see the rain sticking to my temples along my hair, and my eyelashes are covered with a thin layer of water. But you can't see it.
We went to the same junior high school. At that time, you had beautiful black hair, neatly tied with beautiful butterflies, and boys were whispering everywhere. However, this letter seems to have lost its way. How did it get to me? Simple five words, I don't know what it means to you.
You try not to show anything, even follow a large group of people, but I still see your red eyes when you come out of the toilet. I told you I'm sorry. I'm sorry you held my hand and asked me what I was sorry for. I froze there and couldn't say anything. You said with a smile, it's just a feeling of ignorance, not like this. I nodded and threw the letter in the past.
I wonder if there are bauhinia flowers there. If a gust of wind blows, will the petals fall on your side? Will you stop and have a look and remember the beginning?
A few weeks before the middle school entrance examination, we went to the small house where we played as children. I am busy writing the topic, but you have chosen to give up. The small wooden door was gently pushed open, and I knew you must have crept in. If you know that I found you, you will be disappointed, right? So I pretended to be immersed in the ocean of problems, but I couldn't help glancing at you after all. You are like a kitten hunched over and moving slowly. You have a white pottery cup in your hand. With a look of joy and pride, you gently put the cup on the corner of the table. A faint scent of tea suddenly overflowed. I looked up and smiled and reached for it.
"No, don't drink it yet, it's too hot, wait until it gets cold."
You patted my hand off gently.
But what about you? Are your hands red?
"Boy, you want to take an examination of, I am hopeless. And you, unlike me. " You said lazily, with a self-deprecating tone.
I look at you, what big eyes, inclined and transparent, like a baby. Why? Why should I study hard instead of studying hard? You know I'm also a rebel and a free man. You did what I always wanted to do but didn't dare to do, so you have been wary of me going your way. You know your road is not easy, and you don't want me to take any risks, do you?
One day after the senior high school entrance examination, you left and went to a place that was not too far but I couldn't reach it. You said you wanted to leave long ago, but you were afraid it would affect me, so you waited until today.
I didn't see you off. Actually, I don't know when you left. It seems that all of a sudden, you are far away. Just like I used to think that bauhinia could bloom for a long time, I didn't expect it to wither after a weekend. You just left anyway. It seems that this fact can never be changed, nor can it be changed.
Four years have passed and I haven't heard from you. I thought I forgot about you, too. Until the college entrance examination ended last year, I found this campus full of bauhinia as soon as I opened the school website. I believe in such a thing as fate.
Just like w-inds in ageha: The Summer of Chasing Butterflies/We made an appointment/Although we separated/Yes/We are still good friends.
Maybe we won't meet again, but maybe you remember.
The rain has begun to decrease, and the frequency can be recognized slowly. I think I should go, continue to go downhill to Kirin, try to walk with others under an umbrella, and occasionally stop to look at the pink bauhinia, sigh or feel sad.
I love you, but it's none of your business.
The English poet once said, "There are three great pleasures in life, one is to have hope, the other is to have something to do, and the third is to be able to love others." And I think loving someone is the most important thing.
People are social animals, and no one can live alone without society. And there must be people who haunt us and linger among all sentient beings. It is because of such people that we feel our existence. They may be the meaning of our existence. To love someone is to think about her all the time. I always want to do something for her, pay for her, be happy for her happiness, and be sad for his sadness. Even if she knows nothing about what I have done, so what. I love you, but it's none of your business. I will get spiritual satisfaction while giving.
In some people's eyes, maybe my behavior is stupid, because in their cognition, it is futile to get nothing in return. They wouldn't do such a stupid thing. But "children are not fish, how can they know the happiness of fish?" My love is not as utilitarian as they think, and loving someone doesn't have to possess her.
I love you is my business, and it has nothing to do with others and you. If you happen to love me, it's a godsend. If you don't love me, it doesn't matter, because I can't force you to love me and you can't force me not to love you. I love you is my subjective initiative, and I am willing to pay for you. It doesn't matter much whether you accept it or not. Because I have done what I want to do, then my heart will be satisfied, which is also a kind of happiness.
I love you, then you will live in my heart, my thoughts and my life. When I am tired, sleepy or even depressed. Then I will think of you, your beauty, your kindness, everything about you. Then I will feel that all the efforts are worthwhile, and I will constantly enrich myself and improve myself, just to protect you more effectively.
In fact, being able to love is a kind of happiness in itself. Those who are loved are happy, and those who love are happier. Because we have a goal to strive for, just like people have faith. If not, then we will get lost in this colorful society and can't find our own soul. At the same time, when we love others, we should not impose our subjective consciousness on others. I love you, so you should love me. This is typical robber logic. If she doesn't love me, then our contribution should be based on the premise of not interfering in her life and taking our thoughts as the table. Silently guarding her.
I love you, but it's none of your business. What about you?
Hometown: a leaf
It was spring, it was a leaf, it was my village stepping on a brisk beat, and I couldn't go too far. There are many flowers in the distance, and I only miss the dazzling green in front of me.
Four coolness is endless. Just like a person suddenly became silent, behind him, those lonely and hesitant, like lively little beasts.
I shouted, shouting out those old days. I don't look back, I imagine a leaf sitting in spring. There was a scar on the petiole, and I almost blurted it out when I fell.
I still wear clothes in winter. I like shepherd's purse, water hyacinth and a wooden leaf that reminds me of my hometown. I love the homesickness and pain of a konoha.
The bitterness of life flooded me. I am at a loss, and I am lost again and again. I am waiting for the sun to gently wake up a leaf of wood and wake up my childhood.
I'm afraid I'll remember those misfortunes. I am afraid of forgetting a piece of konoha blown by another stranger, and I am afraid that monotonous notes will awaken subtle sadness.
The scenery outside the window ...
spring scenery
In spring, the scenery outside the window is the most charming. Miss Chun brought a gentle spring breeze, blowing water and fiddling with willow branches. The earth is dressed in green. Grass emerged from the soil, holding a small head; Flowers are competing to open, but also exude attractive fragrance; All kinds of trees keep growing tall, as if to see who grows tallest and strongest ... The earth is full of vitality. The scenery outside the window was fascinated by the people reading outside the window. I put down my book and couldn't wait to go out. The scenery outside the window brings vitality and vigor to the earth and sea urchins.
Xia Jing
In summer, the scene outside the window is really lively. Frogs are everywhere in the fields and cicadas are chirping in the treetops. Frogs and cicadas bark together, as if they were having a concert. What is more lively is that the old people are sitting in the yard watching TV programs, and the children are playing games in front of the computer, talking and laughing, and everyone is laughing happily. This summer scenery is really a pleasure. From time to time, the smell of rice and flowers wafted from the rice fields, and farmers were smiling, which made them gain something from the hope of sowing. The summer scenery outside the window adds a trace of harmony and happiness to the earth.
Autumn scenery
In autumn, autumn scenery outside the window makes people feel a little chilly. Leaves fall from branches, just like butterflies flying in the air. The green grass has lost its green color, turned yellow and gradually plunged into the embrace of the earth. Even people's movements have changed. This is just "Tian Jing Sha Qiu Si" by Malik Zhiyuan: a crow with a dead vine, a family with a small bridge and flowing water, a thin horse with an ancient road, the sun setting, and a heartbroken person in the end of the world. This is really chilling. So is autumn scenery outside the window.
Winterset
In winter, the winter scenery outside the window is covered with frost. Look, where is the frost falling like goose feathers? One moment it falls on the treetops, the other on the roofs of others. Frost looks naughty and likes to play. In a short time, the earth was covered with a thick white coat. The winter scenery outside the window is occupied by frost.
The scenery outside the window is varied, just like the weather. The scenery outside the window is full of vitality, happiness and harmony.
I like the scenery of the four seasons, and I prefer the scenery outside the window.
In April, I fell into a lonely rain.
one
In April, I came with a poem in my hand and my name. There is no denying that the young man with lip gloss and high heels is used to seduce young people who come on horseback.
Today, youth is still old, and there is no trace of love in the window where the breeze blows.
Always looking, looking in the wind, following on the road, where is the journey of sunshine?
Standing in the direction of poetry, looking out, a bird flies freely. When can I also plug in white wings and extend to your direction with my dream?
Always imagine that the preface of a book will be opened by you. Then, it's my old story, and your shadow looms in it! This idea is repeated and precipitated in the annual rings. So that later, I couldn't tell which part was the beginning of a dream and which part was the end of reality. When I was sure it was just a dream, it was obvious that you were already standing at my window. So I rode, and I covered my long hair with my hand to hide my surprise and nervousness.
Is that you? Is it really you? Breathing from far to near, jumping in my poem. Silence is our only tacit understanding! Without words, let the warmth spread in the silent years. You, you, you, me, me, me, a white field solidified between you and me. Only you, only me, the world has become so pale? Even the rhyme of a poem needs polishing. Half a minute, from strangeness to familiarity, from indifference to enthusiasm, time is getting warmer after all.
two
Peach blossoms are red in April.
Let's rain. Look at this cracked nib.
When we face each other, it opens slowly in the morning. Open a blank, open a memory, open a flower whisper.
Time goes by bit by bit, and when we look closely, life unfolds in the theme of a poem. Open the morning and describe our meeting with transparent dew. In a rain, at the source of the poem, I wrote down the reed of my hometown. In a wind, at the end of the poem, you drew a boat in the reeds. Layers of voices in the landscape are opening. When love can no longer be expressed in words, it is treasured in a book.
When we face each other, the night slowly' opens'. Dream a dream, have a wonderful dream and have a prosperous dream.
Open the night and describe the depravity of a group of people with gorgeous colors. Loneliness in the glass gathers here, and no one can read behind the flash. Many things have been lost here, dignity, soul, and unstoppable love. I think I can only listen, or witness, and always stand at a distance of one meter away.
When your soft words are attached to your ear, I am eager to turn around, just a little distance, enough for my intimacy to reach your heart and your thoughts. Those lost things, starting from the first drop of blood, condensed into the power of a flower and shouted in my poem. My poetry, my soul, has been waiting for such a moment? I heard my own crying; Oh, no
Spring will come, not in such a dark night.
three
In April, a tree was covered with leaves, and I kept writing on the window.
Ignore yourself to see yourself, your heart, your soul and your dreams more clearly.
I want to brew a book. In April, laughter glides, many people come in and out, and I have been standing here, depicting my youth and my love with a simple pen.
The soul that shook hands with me is still far away.
I wonder, does it take a lifetime to brew a preface to a book? If I can, I am willing to wait with my life, to wait.
I lost a lot this spring. I just want to greet the distant eyes with clean poems. Breathe deeply, in April, there are still some deserted windows, and the flowers soaked in rain are overflowing. At this time, I miss the smell of sunshine and you. I always write like this, in the language of poetry, happiness and sadness.
Many years later, in a book, it will be engraved: lonely rain grinds poetry.
You deserve happiness.
You will be happy in the end. No matter how bad the weather is when you get up now, how noisy the surrounding environment is, how cold and unfriendly the people around you are, no matter how bad your mood is now and how embarrassed your situation is, you will be happy eventually, not at this moment, but at the next moment, and life will not treat you badly unless you have been treating yourself badly.
Sunshine is not indifferent, even the wind is warm. To live is to have faith; Don't think about death when you are alive; Don't dwell on things that make you feel suffocated when you are alive. No amount of pressure can crush the fragrant soul. Don't make your world gloomy just because there are dark clouds outside the window.
Do you know how sweet a word happiness is? Once you spell it with your lips and teeth, you will know that it is a word stuck to your lips, just like you are eating maltose, and it is difficult to open your mouth. Happy people will see many places where subtle light shines. Just like when you open the window, there is a ray of sunshine coming at you with fragrance, and you will feel good to be alive; Just like when you forget to bring your umbrella but it rains, you may not meet a kind-hearted person to give you an umbrella, but you can also find a shelter from the rain, and then watch the hurried crowd there and listen to the rain quietly. It seems that you are the only one left in the world, and the rain has become gentle and graceful. You are not in a hurry to live or you are not in a hurry to live. In an instant, you will realize that the pursuit of life can actually be very simple
I read some compositions when I was a child, so I like to use sunny weather when describing the weather. There are no clouds in Wan Li. But when I saw that there were no clouds in Wan Li, I never really felt this emotion. I have also seen people like to write: the breeze is not impetuous, and the years are quiet. But I have never really experienced that kind of quiet mood. More just know that it is a beautiful word and express a beautiful meaning. Since I left school and started a free life, I began to enjoy collecting the feelings of each time period. At dawn, looking out of the window, the sky is getting brighter, the temperature is slightly cooler, and my mood is occasionally touched.
Sparse leaves lie quietly on the branches, waiting for the season to bloom like a fleeting time, and crawling beside my dream like a soldier, accompanying me good night. In the afternoon, watching the sunshine floating on the earth, the crowds are noisy, the vehicles are noisy, the teapot is in hand, the tea is fragrant, and the faint smoke is as romantic as Shan Lan. At dusk, the sun sets quietly, the warm wind blows across the river, and the bridge arches slightly to welcome the years. At night, on the stone bench next to the stadium, watching a group of boys sweating under the basket, listening to passers-by talking and laughing after dinner, sitting quietly in a corner as a bystander, just like reading a book, a story and a movie that is not very good. I can smell some pungent perfume in the middle of the night, meet some women with heavy makeup and light makeup, and hear the voice of walking in high heels in the alley, "bump, bump ..."
In a quiet life, I slowly accepted my own ordinary, but also gradually fell in love with the plain life. Those repeated days and repeated clocks seem to have washed away my childishness at once, and those things that I thought were different when I was young have gradually become a page of the past. Those dark nights spent burning out cigarettes, those feelings that need to be drunk with alcohol, and those pains that can only be avoided, now I think it is not unforgettable. Just a trickle of water in the long river of years.
You know, you deserve happiness, no matter how impure your motives are in the emotional world. Everyone has a purpose in life, but my purpose is simple, that is, to pursue freedom within my power. A friend fell in love with a northern boy when he was working in the summer vacation. She asked me if I should tell that person.
I envy her very much, because it is so happy to meet someone who worries me and excites me, and I haven't met a boy who can excite me for a long time, so if I were her, I would keep this love. I won't confess, it's not that I'm timid, but I enjoy the feeling of secretly falling in love with someone. I don't want my heart broken, at least not so soon. Because I know better, I'm afraid I'll ruin myself if I like it. I like it lightly, I won't approach it insatiably, and I don't have to rush to have it. After all, I won't like someone for long. When I was young, it was as beautiful as freedom.
Yesterday she quit her job and went home, something like: Goodbye this time, really never again. I evaluate her like this: fate will let you meet what you should meet and will also let you leave. It's time to leave. Let those who are destined to leave him quietly!
I don't know where I came from to talk about fate, but it seems that only fate can fully explain those things that are unsolvable and unknown.
Loving your life with a belief is more substantial and meaningful than filling the emptiness of life with feelings. In the beautiful years, we should not live in an atmosphere of being eager to get married. We deserve happiness, because happiness is not all given by others, but also comes from gratitude and understanding of life.