Wen Xiyu
The world is full of beauty and flowers, but unfortunately, it lacks the leisure. I had no choice but to sit alone in front of the window, unfold a book of poems, hold a cup of tea, let the ray of sunshine shine on me, and enjoy the time quietly.
How many true feelings are contained in a book of poetry; How many encounters in life are lamented in a book of poetry; How many beauties are regretted in a book of poetry; How many beauties are buried in a book of poetry Life flows.
There are scenes, feelings, and situations, traveling through a volume of poetry and books, wandering among the ink-scented ancient scrolls, and meeting time unexpectedly here.
How deep is the courtyard? Willows pile up with smoke, and there are countless curtains. Youth is imprisoned, life is buried, and I feel sorry for myself in the clouds of glitz, but I can only sigh. Time flies, but life is in a hurry. If we could do it again, would the ending be different? No one knows the answer. It's just that I asked Huahua without saying a word with tears.
Once upon a time, everything was difficult to overcome, except for Wushan, it was not a cloud. We met in the most beautiful Chinese years, and the deepest true feelings were revealed, but we missed each other's presence together. On the road of life, there are always some people drifting away, there are always some things that are too late to do, and there are always some sorrows that can only be endured silently. It's great to seize the most beautiful moments, even for a moment.
A volume of poems and books, full of leisurely feelings. Read every sentence in the poem carefully, whether it is sad, happy, crying with joy, or silent. Perhaps only at this moment can I enter the hearts of those literati and lofty ideals thousands of years ago, to feel and recall, to stay in the memories that have been precipitated by time, and to enjoy them alone.
Gently open a window and let the breeze blow, looking at the streets and alleys that we have walked together, the people coming and going in those memories, the laughter and laughter in the past, and gently Sighing... Time has passed and everything has changed. Only the words buried in time still exist deeply in my mind. Gathering and separation are painful and hurried, and this hatred is endless. The years are fleeting, but where are the people who have been with us all our lives? There is nowhere to put those lasting sorrows.
After the cycle of life and death, the soul still walks alone between the lines. There is a dream behind the curtain of the moon at night, and the tenderness of the spring breeze is ten miles away. "A curtain of dreams, ten miles of tenderness" always lingers in his heart. I seem to see Qin Guan at this time, his affectionate eyes, and that gentle and watery tenderness, meditating in the wind and moon of thousands of years. My heart and my thoughts are deeply still here. Make an appointment with time and enjoy it quietly in poetry and books, whether you are happy or sad, no matter what, at least the encounter you have had is the most beautiful.
For thousands of years, we have been sighing and regretting, but we cannot leave behind the ties of the world, heal our restless hearts, and quietly recite a book of poetry to enjoy it. A peaceful time. Therefore, try to cherish every moment, every year, and embrace every good moment.
A light rain began to fall outside the window, accompanied by the singing voice floating in the distance, "A glance of deep love will last forever, and the love will last forever after several reincarnations, paving the years into a red carpet..."
Exhibit a volume of poems and books, and be intoxicated in the ancient agarwood ink alone; enjoy the peace of time, and be immersed in the tranquility of the years alone.