She is also a girl who likes poetry and likes clean and simple beauty. These random questions reveal honesty and clarity. I think, in her heart, there is a lush sunny grassland with free-flying flowers and birds.
Poetry and the distance, like flowers, began to bloom from that song and opened up little by little in the hearts of ordinary swaying people. It is as beautiful as the gods people pursue in their hearts, as beautiful as the stars they want to attract to the sky. It is like a beam of light, illuminating one sleeping heart after another. Beyond the present life, there are poems and distant places. It is like a cloud, riding beautiful expectations and longings, making people stare at the distance from the window of life with relaxed expectations.
Poetry is intentional, and the distance is like a dream.
Wandering in daily life, poetry is the dessert of dreams. The small scenery outside the window, the air brought by the wooden box, the small flowers wearing headscarves, and the forest horses in Walk on the Chain are all a little sweet. Sweet and nostalgic. It is a hormone that draws curves, a reward for daily life, and a kiss. You invite it, it comes from the heart, you feel it and love it.
Poetry is a round feeling, lovely and full, regardless. It hides the eyebrows of life. You look at it, it squeezes you, and its mood is like the wind. It is located in the heart, every sentence, it throws out unruly juvenile words, expresses the heart, expresses life and expresses what you want to say out of thin air.
Just a few words, affectionate. It didn't say a word, and then it was over. It made a simple speech, around the heart.
When life is exhausted, the words of Gu Cheng or Rumi, Xi Murong or Pessoa wander in the bed at night, and they are immersed in pastoral poetry. They look at each poem, listen to each poem and read it aloud. The rest of the rhyme shines in my heart, which is the honor of that moment.
I seem to see the poet's light, together with the bits and pieces connected with each other in my heart, the twinkling stars, and my mood is like a mirror, which is also bright. In the corner of the sea of hearts, dancing solo in a small polished circle.
There is light in poetry, so does the writer, and so does the reader.
Life with poetry will be full of light.
Poetry and distance, beyond poetry, fantasize about distant dreams.
In the distant imagination, just like a long-distance ship looking forward to landing every time, what passes in my mind is a different scenery, a different scenery from this moment. Farther away on the horizon, the faint clouds are floating on the unexpected blue, and when running and shouting on the grassland, you can hear your own voice in the vast emptiness, as if you were free. Every scene is printed from your eyes. Your eyes are busy with all the pictures you expect, the dreamy blue and the light waves at the bottom of the lake. You can see the secrets that the lake doesn't understand, you can see the mystery, and you can't put it in that city. In-depth dialogue with nature has unconsciously healed the inner wounds and stolen half a day's leisure, which makes people feel sorry. Because of slowing down, I covet the light rhythm in the distance.
How long the dream is, how far it is. Because of distance, yearning is the beauty and imagination between a series of thoughts, or it may be changed from a lonely field near and far to a field of one person in a group. I want to take off my present coat and put on a new suit in the distance. Lack of air in daily life makes it impossible to love the oxygen you breathe. So I imagine the smoke and morning fog in the distance as air fresheners, that is, smoke and fog. It is inevitable that it is not easy to grasp, and all I get is therapeutic comfort. Loneliness is only loneliness, and it is not limited to place and time. Time and space are not bound to loneliness. I want to use time and space to transfer loneliness and I will be disillusioned.
The heart that appreciates the beautiful scenery and the heart that wants to escape from the predicament of life must understand.
Therefore, the distance is also the right place in my heart. What is the distance? The attribution of the heart is called distance.
As far as I am concerned, of course I want to go to distant dreams. The more precious distance is the future, which is related to myself and the world. The true self shaped by life itself, the broader spiritual self and the self-space repaired in the long journey are all silently looking forward to welcoming the future. Self-visit, originally a long way to go, the temperature of life has hatched a variety of self-understanding, about yourself, about the road to towards the distant. Life tortures the proposition of life and hides all the details of life. Every individual who hasn't achieved his goal is the starting point of looking into the distance. On the road with no end in sight, he goes forward bravely, towards the distant.
I admire the distance, the Himalayas, the highest mountain in the Maria Trench, the deepest sea, the vastest grassland and the vastest sky, but it is not as clear and open as my inner self. The distance of my heart will accommodate all my sense of self-belonging. When my heart is convinced and all external voices are blocked, I will gradually understand who I really am, gradually determine what distance I want to go, and then start practicing myself. Looking for yourself completely and openly, in the long river of time, it will become more and more enthusiastic, and the precipitation of self-temperature will slowly send feelings in endless distance and look forward to the future of the heart.
For me, the distance is not only to see the mind of the world, but also to see my long road.
Poetry is a resting place for the soul, and the distance is a road to walk with the heart. Poetry and distance are always in your heart.
Life is on the road, what is your poem and distance, what is my poem and distance?
Sound outside the text
"Life is not just the present, but also poetry and distant fields ..."
The first time I heard Xu Wei sing this song, I retorted in my heart, how could my mother say such a thing!
Gao wrote that his mother was sitting in front of the door, humming "Flowers and Teenagers" ... At that time, she felt very disobedient and kept refuting and refuting. ...
Later, I realized that it was written in high script. As the high mother of Kochi, she would hum Flowers and Teenagers and say to him when he went out: "Life is not just the present, but also poetry and distance …".
Mom can talk about poetry and distance, and she is not opposed to peace!
It's wrong for my mother to mention it. My mother will only say when I come home, "I'll cook Wenchang chicken for you." Do you want to eat? "
Right? It's different. Suddenly feel very meaningful.
Well, suddenly I feel, interesting ~
The origin of writing this article is because of what Wei Wei said to me. Speaking of which, I am very grateful to her.
20 17 12 3 1 my favorite senior and I had dinner and watched a movie in Jia Zheng. It was New Year's Eve together, and I was a little emotional. Let me send you a message as a souvenir.
Small painting, painted before Christmas, seems to match this article. (Must be comforting myself)