Modern poetry about happiness

Moonlight is like silver, gently plucking the strings of years, there is always a memory. In the white time, there are always casual encounters. Some have come, some have gone, and their thoughts are like smoke. Those splendid pasts are always too close to memories. A piece of paper can't trace back the young days, nor can it recover the fleeting past. In the silence of the fallen leaves, they gently hold golden times, who died with the wind, and that meditation.

I envy the eagle. When it flies in the blue sky and white clouds, I think they must be very happy at the moment. I envy flowers. When they bloom beautifully, I think they must be happy at this moment. I envy rich businessmen. When they are carefree, I think they must be very happy at the moment. I envy these, freedom, beauty and carefree. I thought this was happiness, but I was wrong! What is happiness? When the eagle flies for the first time under the threat of death, it is happy at this moment.