Description of Time in Prose and Poetry Part I: Time is a reflection of life.
It rains all my life.
The legend of book life
Leave a season to smell the flowers.
Lantingchu
Have the sweetness of early spring.
It's hot there.
There was a messy autumn.
It is cold and snowy in winter.
In a remote place
With the cycle of these four seasons
Grow old slowly
Past events soaked in spring rain
Spread in the dark
Time is peaceful.
Time flies.
Fatigue and change
suddenly
Life is just a process of turning around.
Prose and Poetry Describing Years Part II: Years are not old, they are in the eternal flow of time.
Flowers bloom and fall.
The grass grew luxuriantly and withered again.
The leaves are green and yellow.
A person's life is nothing but
The distance between prosperity and decline is a little longer.
In the cycle of life and death
Sing
Full of joys and sorrows
Set off life
All that belongs to you is
embers
Searching in infinity and finiteness
Looking for the meaning of existence
Looking for the truth of the past
The world of mortals seeks the sound of * * *.
Infinity is a time that will never grow old.
Limited is a life that doesn't want to get old.
Prose and Poetry on Time Description Part III: Time is quiet and good, and time goes by.
Looking at the dignified sky outside the window, migratory birds have already returned to their hometown.
Leaves are falling and dead branches are still there;
Winter sunshine, residual temperature still exists.
The sky is dark and foggy, and a piece of paper burns half of the sunset;
The sky is blue, yellow leaves are all over the ground, and the wind blows away a leaf.
Fishing alone in the cold river, who knows the taste? But I am used to it;
Write down the vicissitudes of life, no one knows? But the heart has been frosted.
United as one, with thousands of troops and horses, it is unstoppable;
If you do it again in ice and snow, your bones will be broken and your body will be sad alone.
When it was precious, the scenery was gone, and I was alone in Wangjianglou.
The mountain reflects the sunset and the sky meets the water, and the grass is ruthless in the sunset.
Broken arrows look at the bodies everywhere,
A glass of turbid wine languishes alone in a lonely city.
Mohist war
It's cool in the middle of the night, with stars.
Lei Guang penetrated the air and lay quietly on the battlefield.
ShaSheng horns at dawn, mountains and rivers are good, but life is over;
The old laughter dispersed with the wind, and no Iraqi was afraid of tears everywhere.
Rain and snow dispersed, without a trace of wind and smoke;
Dust covered, flesh and blood has dissipated.
The general made Jiuquan miserable,
The Iraqi people leaned against the carved fence and languished alone.
Ten thousand galloping soldiers will go to the battlefield again,
Too bad it wasn't yesterday's face?
Prose and poetry about the description of years: years are clean, and years are still clean.
Cloudier than water.
Much clearer than wine.
Close your eyes.
Or that teenager
It was called youth at that time.
He wrote a long love letter.
ask for a light
Sent it into the air.
Send it to a lover named Memory.
But it seems the road is bumpy.
Lost one's way halfway
The teenager was completely panicked.
Like a child who did something wrong
More or less, to be exact.
He didn't know
His share of happiness for girls.
This changes the quality.
The girl hates him from her heart.
He was at a loss.
But he smiled.
Go far away
Further
From a distance
Dare not make a sound
Dare not reveal his whereabouts.
Dare not go any further.
It's like standing on the edge of a cliff
Can't go up yet
At the foot is a valley called years.
And Wang Quanshui.
Very clean
Cloudier than water.
Much clearer than wine.
It is said that it can wash away everything.
But teenagers know
He doesn't want it.
He doesn't want it!
But time and tide wait for no man
The teenager has forgotten that teenager.
He became very clean.
Like washing clothes.
one day
He received a love letter.
But he was confused.
I put it casually.
That is also called? How many years? In the trash.
Go straight.
Lost in the sea of people