one
A river with a faint sound.
Left and right sides. Opposing, staring eyes. The other shore, this shore. You left, leaving your back, if bright, if dark. Tonight is so long, you have disappeared. The past became the background of dreams.
Proverbs and predictions seem to come from rivers. River banks, brown moss, grow in the years. I stayed again and again, and I stared silently. Many days, our two footprints were left, and our faith was piled up in the dust.
This afternoon, there was no wind or ripple, and two people stood on the dry river bed. No dubbing, clarinet and electric bass. A smile. A look. A hint. To love and be loved is nothing; Infatuation constitutes the blood of the soul. One hand shakes hands with the other, still circulating in the body, oscillating endless ripples. Never leave. The soul surrounds the body.
Before the source, after the end. It's getting dark. Put down the blinds and light a lamp on the desk. Everything is arranged, and everything that can be exhausted will be exhausted. This bed is separated from the city by thousands of smells: body fragrance and honey fragrance, bending over, stretching, swaying back, and a piece of music that blends into one. From fear, madness, from crying, forgetting and hallucinations. Ecstasy, the smell of love.
I am on this shore and you are on the other. In the distant Milky Way, the stars are coldly shining on the earth. There was no one in the street, the crowded footsteps dispersed and the smell of pedestrians dispersed, leaving only silence. The street lights are blurred, but the world is still quiet. At the moment, you can only go somewhere else. Facing the vague distance, we look at each other and understand each other.
two
In the evening breeze, the city lights are dim. Turning a page casually seems to open an altar of wine that has been sealed for 5 thousand years. How many complicated things, bittersweet years, ups and downs in life, leaving only a cup of colorless and tasteless boiled water, you and I washed away the lead life. Tonight, the moonlight is open in the silent space. My memory is failing. That is the taste of love, sweet and a little sad, leaving a trace of painless in my heart.
You have been walking in a hurry all your life. The road to go and the direction to reach are not classics with historical imprint. I like to start in the morning light and finally disappear in the sunset. Love is love, hate is hate, and you are like a banshee who has been practicing for thousands of years, waiting and struggling? The sun and the moon are stormy, and time has played down right and wrong. Accept it silently.
Some stories flashed in the twilight and woke me up from the earth. Some characters or details, soaked by the tide of the sun, suddenly became clear and gradually blurred. Your fresh life nourishes the emptiness inside. Forget the road, forget the road, always feel on the road. Your dust, crossing the nameless river, is an island built for you by the gate of heaven. Now, the road under your feet will not increase or decrease. Flowing water, isolated bridge, wind and rain, bumping sound meet. A lifetime, a moment.
It's getting dark The secret of depression is full of tears. We are walking at the crossroads, and those distances, no matter how far, are between heaven and earth.
Wandering. Miss a reunion, this journey is long, and our bitterness and sweetness have been kept secret. All dreams, ideals and fantasies are our common sadness.
Because I miss you, I see your figure in my dream; Seeing you come with poetry, like a breeze, I can't tell your appearance. Silent space, some tortuous stories, lakes full of years. In the lush memory, what corresponds to you is just a few symbols and information with special significance, which take root in my heart. A strong love, gradually fade away. Listen, the pace of time has brought us to the vicissitudes of life.
three
That year, I left my familiar hometown alley with my bag on my back. I met you in the misty rain, and I can't get over it. The mysterious girl, wearing a fluttering skirt, exudes the fragrance of lilacs. How many leisurely hours, quiet, have lived in my heart. Years alternate in a hurry, some fragments, stay for a lifetime and dare not forget each other.
How many years ago, you were pacing in the rainy alley in the south of the Yangtze River; Many years later, you are still walking up and down the rainy alley in the south of the Yangtze River. Every time I pass by, I leave in a hurry. Only the beautiful and sad back and sighing eyes are left behind. How I wish I could own a piece of land for a long time and get out of the rainy lane in the south of the Yangtze River. Things will be the same as before.
Looking forward to meeting you, even if it's just a trance-like dream. In my heart, there will always be a long and lonely rain lane. The scenery in the alley and the people in the distance will always be the same as before. Past lives's afterlife. Meditate with a cup of tea and remember with a song.
How many poems of spring breeze, how many autumn moons, and how many firewood fish are warm and cold are still waiting in the same place, I don't know for whom. Once melancholy, just to find the mysterious lilac girl. If you have a dream, you will be quiet when you wake up. Who rewrote yesterday's custom? As you wish in this life, no matter how many years have passed, you will always live in April and never get old. Walking in a deep long lane is just a hazy illusion written by the poet.
Tonight, with the long-cherished wish of this life, I will guard it with peace of mind. Although I don't have a wonderful pen, I don't have flowing thoughts or euphemistic feelings. I only dream meaningful dreams. A dusty relationship can last a lifetime. Romance, add a little bit of misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, if there is a lingering feeling between if there is nothing. Those distant days and short details are thought-provoking.
four
There is a kind of love, like a touch of sadness, which can't be entangled in my heart. The ancient westerly road, the sunset in the pavilion and the slender willows on the shore were all broken by the departing people. We agreed to return the goods, and cashed as much as we could. Commitment is like the wind, but it is only a deep conversation when it rises, and finally it is lost in time and nowhere to be found.
Life comes and goes. If we hold hands today, the final outcome will be east, west, north and south.
Tonight, we are sitting in a bar and reminiscing about the past. Looking at the torn time, looking at a loneliness and helplessness, sipping our past. An old song, sad and sad, hits our hearts again and again. The flickering neon lights spread in the music. The melody of missing is swaying in the glass.
We just sat quietly. An old song, touch your chest. A glass of wine is full of your name. The moonlight outside the house is hazy in your eyes. One person struggles in another's memory. Your face always disappears in the wine in the cup, and beauty instantly becomes loneliness.
My thoughts are turning from page to page. Burning alcohol will burn your chest. I don't know whether your heart is wet or your tears are wet. A thousand words can only be silent in your eyes.
You sat there with your heart covered. You open all the pains of life. Some melancholy words tilt in your pen.
Catkin, misty rain. The petals under the starry sky are splashing and fluttering. Open the dusty scroll, but your fate and faith hold up the sadness of lilac.
The loneliness of geese singing and the coldness of phoenix trees in autumn wind. Life is a glass of water, and the lilac girl in the dream goes further and further with the horseshoe. Because you look at the world calmly, you would rather be alone. The lamp of life, the footsteps of travel can always touch the door of home.
five
Missing begins a long journey, and memories are flipped through. There is a kind of love, attachment and reluctance, and I care about it day and night after leaving. Having an affair with you on credit, you and I are one. Night after night, who is it? We depend on each other and throw ourselves into warm arms. You never refuse me.
At night, this moment begins, and nothing can stop it. Emotion and desire are indistinguishable. After countless times of destruction and rebirth, you still refuse to leave. These eyes are full of tears.
Dream, infatuation with you. Some people say you are frivolous, others say you are profound. But you insist on entanglement, so charming, so moving. We never said a word, so thousands of years passed. ......
I have asked and thought for countless times. Too many dreams, too many similarities. Don't think about cause and effect, don't think about right and wrong. Deep drunkenness and deep insomnia. Too much hesitation, obscurity, and carelessness. Who can tell the things in this world?
The language is too monotonous, and the modified sentence patterns are difficult to describe. The distance between the two constellations submerged the shadow step by step. Those blood and tears blend, and the pictures don't want to describe the details. Those passionate and exciting processes, wave after wave, naturally make the whole world sleep.
This perfect night is full of sadness. Singing, drunk, sad and happy. Happiness and pain stand in the corner of thoughts, but they cannot avoid the fate of the past. This is the taste of the world, and life is like an ant passing by. Just remember today, remember the happiness that belongs to today. A piece of paper left on the calendar can also download her home under the starlight.
six
The breeze pushed away the clouds, and the bright moon flowed for thousands of years, witnessing countless stories of parting, sadness and joy. Round and missing, missing and round, the eternal piety of the world. Once that youth is gone, the lost memories will always come back to me.
I don't need any love, because I'm afraid to leave. It will hurt, but don't leave a wound.
The church bells echoed on the river. The priest is praying or confessing. The arrival of today is the departure of tomorrow, and the departure of tomorrow is the arrival of today. You said, everything is not important, the important thing is that you have been here. I walked here again and again, but I didn't seem to arrive. Waving frequently, the last cloud in the west was left to poetry.
Wandering around the world, I don't know how many inns I have passed before I can find my final destination. Life is full of melancholy, and it is inevitable to abandon people far away, but leave endless acacia.
I leave this time and don't know when I will come back. When we meet tomorrow, we may be old. The weeping willows of Changting Ancient Road were thus broken by poets and poets. That autumn of parting, from then on, you wrote in the article and fell into the hearts of everyone who left.
Put it down, the Buddha has long said that everything will eventually be dull. Made in previous lives, this life is doomed. That time, I will never forget it. Drunk, crying, laughing, the old friend who was inseparable in those days disappeared. Life is a long road, submerged in the dust of history. Looking back suddenly, I have held disabled people all my life.
I'm on this shore.