Morning is a beautiful day.
In the early morning light, cuckoo cries intermittently, which sounds like firecrackers.
Clouds with golden tints fluttered slowly in the air.
Today is market day. On the dirt road in the field, ox carts carry rice bags and clay pots filled with freshly squeezed sugarcane juice.
The village girl's basket is full of taro, raw mango and tender stems of Shajina tree.
The school clock struck six.
The colors of bells and fresh halos blend in my heart.
I moved a chair and sat under the oleander tree by the wall of the small garden.
The sunshine in the eastern sky swept the mottled shadows on the grass leaves.
The cool breeze blows gently, and the branches and leaves of two coconut trees stand side by side, rustling like the sweet cries of twin babies.
Behind the smooth green leaves of pomegranate trees, a few lovely little pomegranates are exposed.
Jetra entered its last week.
The spring sails hang loosely in the sea.
Malnourished reed grass withered; On both sides of the gravel road, the seasonal flowers in Europe have faded and withered.
A strange westerly wind blew into Jetra Moon's courtyard.
I have to wear a thin blanket if I don't want to.
The water in the flower pond overflowed, the lotus stems were shaking, and the goldfish were swimming swiftly.
On the hillside where children are playing, a stone statue on all sides is surrounded by dense Naipu straw bags.
It seems to be standing on the distant shore where time flows, and its expression is indifferent.
The touch of solar terms cannot penetrate into its stone body.
Its artistic language has nothing in common with the language of trees.
The essence rising from the underworld spreads all over the branches and leaves of every tree day and night, and stone carvings live alone outside the broad friendship.
A long time ago, artists injected hidden meanings into it, such as the dead treasure of the medicine fork of the god of wealth and the natural phoneme.
No contact.
At seven o'clock, the clouds disappeared. The morning sun climbed the wall and the shade shrank.
A little girl came in through the back door of the garden, with two braids tied with red ropes dangling on her back.
She is holding a bamboo pole and grazing two white geese and a group of goslings.
The white goose couple are doing their duty to protect their children with a serious expression. The little girl shoulders a heavy responsibility and holds a gosling in her hand.
The heartbeat aroused the sweet love of the young mother.
I really want to keep this beautiful morning.
But it came calmly and walked calmly.
Its farewell paid off its debts in its own treasure house of joy.