Xi Murong
Book one primer
When you are young, if you love someone, please, please be gentle with him.
No matter how long you love each other, if you can always be gentle with each other, then all
Every moment will be flawless beauty.
If you have to part, say goodbye and be grateful for the gift.
A memory.
When you grow up, you will know that when you look back, there will be no regrets in youth without resentment.
Like a quiet full moon on the mountain.
The value of poetry
If you suddenly ask me
Why write poetry?
Why not do something?
Other useful things
Then I don't know.
How to answer?
I beat day and night like a goldsmith.
Just extending the pain to
Gold ornaments as thin as cicada's wings
I don't know how hard I tried.
Turn the source of sadness into
Bright and soft words
Is there one?
The value of beauty
Andante cantabile
There must be something.
I don't understand.
Otherwise, how can vegetation
Continuous growth
Houniao can fly back to his hometown.
There must be something.
There's nothing I can do.
How can day and night alternate?
So fast, all the time
I missed the sadness and eroded my heart.
There must be something behind the fallen leaves.
I had to give up.
This is my diary when I was sixteen.
Or have I been hiding it all my life?
Those beautiful mountains and lilies
secret
Feast of Love
It is a kind of worry that is getting thinner and thinner.
Before lifting chopsticks, it was inexplicable sadness.
This is a feast that will never end in memory.
You can't drink, you can't drink, you have to fight it.
be bright in the eye
Youth without complaining
Xi Murong
Book one primer
When you are young, if you love someone, please, please be gentle with him.
No matter how long you love each other, if you can always be gentle with each other, then all
Every moment will be flawless beauty.
If you have to part, say goodbye and be grateful for the gift.
A memory.
When you grow up, you will know that when you look back, there will be no regrets in youth without resentment.
Like a quiet full moon on the mountain.
The value of poetry
If you suddenly ask me
Why write poetry?
Why not do something?
Other useful things
Then I don't know.
How to answer?
I beat day and night like a goldsmith.
Just extending the pain to
Gold ornaments as thin as cicada's wings
I don't know how hard I tried.
Turn the source of sadness into
Bright and soft words
Is there one?
The value of beauty
Andante cantabile
There must be something.
I don't understand.
Otherwise, how can vegetation
Continuous growth
Houniao can fly back to his hometown.
There must be something.
There's nothing I can do.
How can day and night alternate?
So fast, all the time
I missed the sadness and eroded my heart.
There must be something behind the fallen leaves.
I had to give up.
This is my diary when I was sixteen.
Or have I been hiding it all my life?
Those beautiful mountains and lilies
secret
Feast of Love
It is a kind of worry that is getting thinner and thinner.
Before lifting chopsticks, it was inexplicable sadness.
This is a feast that will never end in memory.
You can't drink, you can't drink, you have to fight it.
be bright in the eye
look into the future
In fact, what I'm looking forward to is
At that moment.
I never asked you to give it to me.
Your life.
If we can be on the hillside full of gardenias.
I'll meet you if I can.
Deeply loved once, and then parted.
Then a long life.
No, just, just.
look back
That brief moment
Sometimes I think of death.
Author: Woodhead
I sometimes think of death.
I don't think I will tell my parents when I leave.
Don't tell any girl.
Put my body
White is white.
Black is black.
Give the red one to the rain
I choose night as my graveyard.
Let a ray of moonlight penetrate into the coffin
I finally stood on the edge of the cliff.
It's comforting to see broken things everywhere.
see
A piece of wood that cannot be made into wood.
Finally burned into charcoal.
turn to dust and ashes
The sunshine of this life
Jump into the abyss with me
Accompanied by two tears
Give a person a second life.
A man sent to heaven.
I sometimes think of death.
Don't forget.
Turn day into night.
Thinking about the last sun in the sky
Be shot down by an arrow
I can't grow any more on my head.
Crop after crop of wheat flowers