Original text:
I remember when I was a teenager, everyone was very sincere and sincere. A word is a word.
Go to the train station in the morning The long streets are dark and deserted, and the small shops selling soybean milk are steaming.
The past days passed more slowly. Carriages, horses and mail didn't arrive quickly. You need to love the right person all your life.
The previous locks were also beautiful, and the keys were exquisite and fashionable. If you lock them up, people will understand.
Extended data:
The slow appreciation in the past
Mu Xin has been wandering for half his life-from Wuzhen to Shanghai, from Shanghai to new york, and then from new york to his hometown. It can be said that for Mr. Mu Xin, literature is "homesickness after a walk".
The poem "It used to be slow" was written by Mr. Mu Xin during his trip. After reading this poem, he will feel that the road is far away, and the exhausted old man has opened the door to memories. With a creak, pure and simple life is taken out of context on paper.
Although the whole poem doesn't mention the present, every paragraph implies the present-chewing and growing up, but it is a mourning for youth. Sincere teenagers, steaming shops, letters from horses and chariots, and beautiful locks are all past tense. The texture of life is enriched in these words, and the change of time seems to be natural.
"In the past, the sun changed slowly/the mail was slow/you only loved one person in your life." Slow is the agarwood accumulated by time, just like Goethe's similar expression in Faust, "You are so beautiful, please stop!" Who doesn't want to keep the beauty in life?
Love is calm after impetuous volatilization, just as the theme expressed by Irish poet Ye Zhi in When You Are Old, "I" would like to confide my heart to the fleeting years.
This poem by Mr. Mu Xin, like a mirror, is an old time in your heart, a childhood joy you can't forget, a youth worry you can't go back to, and a middle-aged worry you can't let go of. This poem is written in the reader's heart and is touching. Reading and reading, this poem seems to live in the reader's life.
Baidu Encyclopedia-Once Slow: Poetry