People who passed by were shocked by the desolation and silence in front of them, leaving footprints that were dusty. They returned home heartbroken and lonely. Eternal, only ruins, lonely figure, looking forward to the end of time and space, the passing of that smoke.
The night there will be very quiet, too quiet to face. In the dark, I seem to breathe in sync with someone, struggling painfully in a hurry, as if I were afraid of a destruction. However, no one can go deep into its hinterland and find the distorted sound of pain. That must be the territory of its soul, because if it is completely injured, it would rather be isolated from all living things.
Only the stars in the sky will chase the night wind and search all the desolate corners, hoping to leave an old story, listen to the wordless wind and the helplessness behind the distant sigh. However, the wind of the years can't blow the dust, and the sunshine of the world of mortals can't warm the sadness of a hundred years. Even if it walks in the sun, its heart is still dark forever. Perhaps it is willing to be in the dark, unable to see the devastation, and only has lost time and distant dreams in its heart.
However, no one will follow it into this dream. It's a dream stopped by time. Populus euphratica in the dream is in new green, and cattle and sheep in the dream are wasting grass fragrance. Here, the yellow sand is long, the clear water and blue sky in the dream are hazy, and the flying stones and gravel also hinder fishing and singing at night. The beautiful girl in the dream, now, where is she? This dream, after thousands of years of vicissitudes, was picked up by the number of people who passed by, but it was unable to restore such a beautiful dream. It only belongs to the poetic name Lop Nur thousands of years ago!
At this time, Lop Nur was desolate, lonely and indifferent, but it added infinite mystery because of Populus euphratica, which has not fallen for thousands of years. Perhaps, it is precisely because of its persistent spirit for thousands of years that people who have walked through it expect when it will return to the boundless lake in Wan Li, turning the tree-lined place and fertile land into strangers.
With a beautiful dream, under the eternal Populus euphratica, we will build a red building with our heart and guard the barren hope. In the dream of the night, gently holding the hand of time, strolling in the prosperity and vicissitudes of time. ...
Stepping on the magical land and rough sand, I am not surprised that the ruins are everywhere, filling the whole Gobi. I just want to find the temptation and magic in the depths of vicissitudes. However, the leaves of the ark were ruthlessly stranded by years and buried by yellow sand. The faint pulse seems to be under your feet, but you can't find it. Desolation makes the sunshine here cold, with traces of thousands of years ago.
In the distance, a ray of sunshine is scattered under your feet, and the sparkling sand seems to be telling. The loneliness here is far more desperate than the cold, and they can only use silence to resist the changes of the Millennium. Picking up a crystal stone, I seem to see those beautiful eyes thousands of years ago, swimming in a pure world, skirts passing by, birds singing and flowers fragrant, and fish and shrimp filling the pool.
Who would have thought that it used to be the fairy lake in people's eyes, the blue lake, rich fish and grass, and flocks of birds, where people lived comfortably and reproduced. It was once covered by the softness of silk, and merchants from far away lit a thousand lamps with camel bells all the way. There used to be a beautiful city where people and clothes were everywhere. The girls here are attracted by the sound of cars and horses and cast curious eyes. Passers-by guests return their amazing eyes for their curly posture, but you can't see through the peerless face covered by gauze.
However, the glorious history of hundreds of years has disappeared silently, and it has to be said that this is the most tragic nightmare in the world. Dream for a thousand years, wake up, the most beautiful face in the world, the veil has been mercilessly torn off, and finally condensed into yellow sand, ups and downs of the world of mortals, and never see the flowers in my hometown again. In my dream, I may come back here, but it is a dream after all, and the dream disappears, leaving a sigh. Everything goes with the dream. My former home has become a land of sandstorms and a kingdom of death, leaving only the mysterious name-Loulan.
Sitting on the broken walls, I picked up a branch of Populus euphratica and looked at the depths of Gobi, remembering that sad legend: A long time ago, the handsome Rob Naoer didn't want to inherit the throne, and he wanted to cross the desert to learn singing and dancing in Qiuci. When I arrived in Tarim Basin, I lost my way and was saved by Milan, the daughter of Fengshen. They fell in love at first sight and fell in love. When Fengshen found out that his daughter was in love with a mortal, he was so angry that he blinded Rob Naoer's eyes, broke Milan's legs and blew them into the desert on the east and west sides to punish them for never meeting again. The beautiful girl Milan misses her lover every day. One night, my hair turned white, tears rolled into a river and gathered into a crystal lake. This is the legendary Lop Nur. Later, the Milan girl missed her illness and died. Overnight, the world changed color, the lake dried up, and the beautiful Lop Nur disappeared, leaving only silver sand everywhere.
The yellow sand flies, and it is difficult for a sad story to have a happy ending in a dream. The disappearance of the ancient Loulan left the sad eyes of Loulan girl in this desolate land, and the disappearance of Lop Nur put an end to all life here. What an unknown story happened in the once vast waters. I would rather believe that the legendary night has disappeared than think deeply. A misty lake, a crossroads of the Silk Road, became a hard journey of salt.
Looking at the dead silence in the distance, with a sigh, the once vibrant land, now because it is far away from the water, bid farewell to the glory, leaving only a desolate and dying.
Walking in the ancient and dry river, Lop Nur is covered with hills and gullies under the setting sun. On the shore, the ancient Populus euphratica collapsed, and the western Western jackdaw, which had been tilted for thousands of years, could not keep the night cry, finally flew away from its branches. The departure of Lop Nur made Populus euphratica lose the confidence to survive, and its independent posture for thousands of years was hard to be eroded by sandstorms. How many years have wasted from that pool of water, and one day, it will really dry up and be buried in this lifeless land by the wind and sand.
Under Populus euphratica, the wind and sand blurred the eyes and yearned for Lop Nur for centuries. I am eager to make a Millennium commitment under Populus euphratica. Inadvertently, it was gradually dried by the years and turned into a red leaf, which was placed on the half-length branch of the sand surface. The desolate Lop Nur is filled with wind and sand, and I can't help sighing to the sky. If the leaving Populus euphratica takes away the persistence of the Millennium, is there still hope to warm the world of mortals?
I seem to hear footsteps in the desert, which is a collision with the Gobi in Wan Li. Perhaps, no one is qualified to say if, because the process of desertification is intensifying, the speed of catching up, such as Lop Nur, can't stop it from drying up. That beautiful dream, perhaps, is really just a dream.
I always hope that my dream has a good beginning and a perfect ending, but for Lop Nur, good hope is not as simple as the seed of a fuzzy tree. When we were still traveling through the ancient Silk Road in our dreams, we were still fascinated by the beauty of Loulan girl. At this time, Lop Nur's dream floated in the dark without end. Those lost years, the desolate Populus euphratica, the smoke from the old road, will never see the neighing of horses again. The cold night seems to hear a deep sigh from Lop Nur. No one can understand it, whether it is loneliness, loneliness or lost prosperity, because no one can touch his fading pulse. Even in his dream, he still can't solve his mysterious years. Perhaps, he is a dream, a dream wandering outside time.
It's a dream. I'll wake up. When will the dream of Lop Nur wake up? Lop Nur, will it be like a seed, waiting for the moment of rain and dew to germinate? Perhaps, the waiting in a deep sleep will be very long, or you will never get out of your dream. Or, a thousand years, a thousand years, another thousand years, is not the persistence of Populus euphratica in Lop Nur, but the red house under Populus euphratica, with clear water and blue sky. In the sunset, the smoke from kitchen chimneys is curling, the clothes are fluttering, and the swift horse swings a crisp whip whistle. Behind him, a pool of ripples swayed from the sunset. ...