Missing is such a mysterious thing, and its origin is always so casual: you say it exists, but it doesn't seem to exist; You say it's heavy, but it's actually light; I see clearly and think hard, so that it's boring to try the lamp, and I'm not in the mood to walk in the snow ... It ties the knot early, regardless of age or whether it's in the boudoir-it doesn't care whether it's willy-nilly, as long as that person and that person, or just one of them, blossom in their hearts, it will arrive with the sun and feet, just like the aborigines where our spirit is, just like with tears. Missing someone is like missing a village covered by memory or imagination.
Missing is like a kind of decay, such as the decay of Chinese cabbage. It slowly, bit by bit, began to rot from the core and winter, and no one saw or noticed it. When people found it in spring, they found that it had rotted to the bone. Because missing is often untidy and uneven, loss is the most common ending, the worst and the best ending of missing this poem named untitled. Just like the end of the play.
Otherwise, a casual, flustered, self-abased, sudden arrival, quietly broke your heart, what kind of ending do you expect?
Miss is a naughty child, with long golden eyelashes, wearing clothes made of fragrance, smiling round, without sad and timid body, always flying into the window lattice when people are about to fall asleep, fanning hard with fat wings to wake you up; Missing is a country, infinite, like the Book of Songs and Yuefu, full of rape flowers and sunflowers, brilliant and brilliant.
Yes, I miss you so much. When you were brilliant, it was just a spring dream, right? Time always gives the most care behind such a affectionate person (even if it only gives a dream more than the average person), because of pity.
This is a drama about decay. She is the one. Missing her like a cocoon.
Her thoughts turned into tears, and her words were brilliant. She began to prepare a batch of sentences that no one could understand.
Those sentences came singing "26", quietly, with the soft wind coming from the alley-no one found it except her. This is really good.
Spring is deep and catkins are flying all over the sky. Clusters of residual flocs fell to the ground, covered with a thick layer, like a bed of brocade, and looked like snow from a distance. It rolls, balls, balls, rolls and swings. If a string of footsteps is a little hasty, it will cross the gap of time and space and come non-stop.
She is very dignified, gentle, bitter and afraid of waiting-afraid of his death, his injury, his tiredness, his illness, his poor food and clothing, his loneliness, his poor health and his old age. Although my lover has left, it has been more than a year, and I feel that I am too old to be a bride. How long before he comes back? Three years? Five years? Or ten years ... Oh, no, it won't. How can I teach him goodbye when I am old? ..... Alas, old is old, who can stop old? I am getting old, and I don't mind getting old-I am far away from the castle peak cold boat; Deep sadness lit up this moment.
However, that man, he, he, he, actually came back! In a trance, he couldn't hide his emaciation and fatigue, and taught her heartache and tears.
Cold and warm in Syria, her thoughts came in waves and washed her away, swaying green and red:
"When I think of the past, I still hate it ..." Allegro will turn here immediately after the hairspring is generally waved, as if a rope were built to make a rattan, and the green branches will spread out immediately, trying with twists and turns. At this time, she has begun to talk about her lover like a peach blossom. Please note that the people she misses are generally sick people, and some discomfort in the heart and lungs, pallor or flushing, are normal reflections. She has become a peach tree in itself, a peach tree with a heart-to-heart flow and a lack of buds.
She has lowered her eyebrows and muttered something to herself, but when she read the word "hate", she may really hate it. Her eyes suddenly raised like a cold firefly, revealing her daughter's unspeakable love for him: "Give birth to a mandarin duck twice." Neither early nor late, Hu Qin followed him slowly, like a docile and obedient cat waking up slowly around Huashu.
"Finally, if you are drunk, you will still get sick, and you will sit in the smoke cage. When I was a stranger, flowers were like brocade. Today, the building is willow and green. Poor Nong is waiting in the boudoir, and now I think of Haitang Kaitian ... "This cavity is full of gas, but it is really a little angry and charming, and then all the colors come out with a wave of his sleeve ...
She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she accidentally shook them all out. Rain is like cotton, and most flowers bloom.
Hu Qin's clean singing voice and mellow timbre really have an indescribable charm on the door, as warm as body temperature, as shy spring painted by bees talking sweet words.
Afraid of disturbing the sleeping bird, I even held back a slight cough, didn't dare to make a sound at all, and listened attentively-"it's been more than a year, really hard for you!" " Her eyes are full of sadness and attachment, her voice is euphemistic, and she can't say how to catch people. She turned briefly and drew him with one eye. "The knocker is suspicious, and the city language is slightly worried; Why haven't I heard from you? No matter who is heartbroken in my family ... "As you know, people who miss each other sometimes can't get around, even if they are thin and angry. Flower trees are out of season, with a thin layer of blue and white frost hanging from top to bottom.
Her pair of phoenix eyes just glanced at him, and the whole person was clear and soft, revealing shyness and bitterness. Then, she spoke out of turn a few words. Although she sang in the middle, she did not lose the taste of love and hate, pretending to blame but actually pitying. Sleeves fall like butterflies and trees turn. He was slightly stunned and his heart melted. He quickly explained, "It's not convenient to send letters in the army. I miss my wife so much ..."
The person in front didn't finish talking, but it changed color: "After all, men are so unlucky, and the word' misleading' is reputation; Sweet words are really nice, but they are all false kindness ... "
With that kind of sadness, she answered those secret worries in detail-a kind of sadness like snowflakes, which will be revealed when she has accumulated for many days and failed to tear the tight rubber band of fate with all her strength. She took the wheels of rolling chariots across the snow, and the splashing water vapor, like cold liquid, slipped down her throat and slowly flowed into our hearts. Everyone was in a trance, but they couldn't get back to God for a while, thinking that they had made something wrong with this person who was shaking like a rustling flower. I almost stretched out my arms and gave her a shallow symbolic comfort hug.
Outsiders are easily tempted and persuaded. He was also wronged by his family: "Madam just complains about Xiaguan, why don't you send me a letter?" Tell me I miss you every day. I don't blame you, blame me. That's ridiculous! "
It's just a seemingly warm word of anger and anger, which makes her resentment and hatred (alas, this kind of "hate" is dubbed "missing") suddenly disappear-it turns out that the young lady is more virtuous because the woman is more considerate. She looked down and thought, "Yes, I didn't send him a letter either, but I was wrong about him. Look at him angry over there! I just got home today. What are you arguing about? I think he is a weather-beaten man, so don't be hard on him. "
This yearning, long or short, shallow or deep, as green as spring grass, and the anxiety, misunderstanding, quarrel and sticking caused by it all ended in the chill of thorns and turned into the tenderness and joy of flowers. With charming eyes, she smiled and cleaned up the bill, and said to him in a stack of voices, "I am so entangled that I thought of my wedding scene." That was a few days ago. " I can't help sorting out the embroidered pillows in Luozhou, so as not to live up to the precious moment of spring night ... "She stuffed her body into a spacious and slightly shy room, waiting for him to explore a warm place and light a lamp to illuminate the darkness.
Hey, the flowers are blooming, one, one, one ... waiting for a deep breath. And beautiful sparrows, sparrows that have persisted for a winter, are playing and dancing in Ding Dong in the distant row of wires that are not yet aging and clean.
Rain and snow fly, a little landscape, three thousands of feet falls, nourishing the peach trees that gradually opened many years ago. Now it is blooming gradually, and the flowers are full of love and joy. Occasionally, three or five pieces fall, dyeing the ink in the inkstone on the table and adding a different kind of fragrance-in a cold wind and a cold song.
Affectionate at this point, the spring boudoir wakes up, and the frost shines on the moon, so you should have pity on me.