The course of life is like words written on water. When you go downstream, you will always lose track when you want to look back, because writing on water, no matter how hard you try, can't be forever or even stereotyped.
If we try to stay in the past happiness, it is really asking for trouble, and we think of pain from time to time in our memory, which doubles it. Happiness and pain, joy and lament in the course of life are just words written on the water, and time will surely flow away.
The body is like running water, which keeps flowing day and night, making people grow old in an instant.
The heart is like running water, without a moment's rest, making people's lives disorderly.
The illusion of body and mind is like writing on running water. Before the second pen was finished, the first pen flowed into the distance.
Love is also writing on running water. When we say love, the concept of love has flowed far away.
Beautiful love is a poem written on the water, ordinary love is a document written on the water, and the oath of love is a dead leaf that occasionally floats on the running water. When it falls, it always flows away silently.
Since we live on water, let us flow naturally along the cause of water. When we see flowers, we will know that the cause of flowers is sufficient before they can bloom. When you see fallen leaves, you know that the reason for falling leaves is enough and the leaves will fall. In a group of strangers, you will always meet someone who is destined. When fate comes, we will forget his name and face like a dream, and he will disappear like words written on the water.
Why do we feel fear, fright, sadness and distress when we are alive? It is because we only read the written words, but forget that the words are written on the endless stream of water. The flowers and trees on the water are arranged one by one, and they don't care about each other and go with the flow. People's pain is that the floating grass in front just misses the floating wood in the back, and the blisters in the back want to see the floating pivot in front. As long as we realize that words are written on water, we can have no worries, no fears and stay away from upside-down dreams.
In the turbulent waves and rapid whirlpool, will people who swim downstream occasionally look up and find themselves as a word on the water?
Liu
All the trees are painted with dots, only the willow trees are painted with lines.
Other trees always have flowers or fruits, only willows, and some useless white catkins are scattered blankly.
Other trees are all messages with tight passwords, only willows are loose knots.
Other trees are suitable for flower arrangement or decoration, and only willow trees are suitable for folding willows in Baling to bid farewell.
Willow is out of date, willow is getting old, and willow has no practical value-except beauty. Willow is not a tree of craftsmen, but a tree of poets and lovers. There are fewer and fewer willows. Every time I see a willow tree, I hold my breath nervously-I'm afraid I'll forget it one day. I'm afraid that one day when I read Bai Juyi's Thought Before Spring, Liu is unable to mention it to the King of Wei or Wei Zhuang's Willow in the Desert with a Misty Eye, I will also look it up in the dictionary.
Willow can never make a forest, and it is destined to be a plant on the shore. However, it is useless to look up some things in the dictionary. How can we understand the willow on Su Causeway and sort out the spring breeze in Fu Jiang in February? How beautiful the willow in Suidi is, just like a misty jade curtain.
Wicker stripes are used to reaching into the water and winding the quiet clouds and moonlight in the water. It often catches a complete water moon skillfully, which is much more clever than Li Bai.
There are countless leaf buds called "green eyes" hidden on the soft strips of spring willow. When those eyes are happy, they spit out several veins of green leaves. A few days later, all the granular green eyes were taken apart. Some people suspect that there are gems under the roots of rainbows, but I always suspect that there are emeralds under the roots of willows-otherwise, where can willows absorb so much pure green kapok?
Zhang Xiaofeng kapok tree
All flowering trees should be female, and only kapok is male.
The kapok tree is dry and wrinkled. I don't know why, it bears such soft kapok, and it slowly falls from the branches with an incredible elegance.
Kapok is horribly big and bright orange-red. When it is open, it doesn't even need a leaf to set it off. It's like a bowl of red koji poured into a rough pottery bowl. Fierce and unreasonable, but beautiful.
The branches may be hard, and the roots are wrinkled, like a varicose hand-the humerus is dry, the arm is dry, and even the elbow, wrist, fingers and fingernails are dry-begging for something from heaven and tearing at something. When it was dry to the extreme, the tree fragments exploded, and kapok was almost like a flame sprayed from a split wound.
Kapok usually grows very tall. I first saw it in Guangzhou that year. I don't know if it is because I always thought it was the tallest tree in the world when I was very young. Cantonese people call it the hero tree. In the park in early summer, we were busy picking up the newly fallen kapok. Maybe a tree a few feet high is too high for us. We thought every kapok was a cloud with broken wings in the clear sky.
With kapok falling behind, the leaves of kapok trees will thicken day by day, and kapok trees will eventually become ordinary. Everyone will have a heart. At least until next spring, under the cover of green leaves, it will no longer expose the strange beauty that makes people anxious.