I refused to wake up and forgot to escape. I refuse to touch the bones that ache because of the undercurrent of spring. I don't want to be Meng and hold some illusory fruits firmly in my hand. I just immersed, immersed, like a drop of water immersed in the sea, like a grain of dust submerged in the sand.
My lonely deep courtyard, the scenery is faint Peach blossoms are silent and fragrant in the distance. There is always some Sanskrit, which comes from incense. You walked through the flowery peach grove, you wrote the Peach Blossom Garden in pale pink, you hung colorful cards filled with beautiful poems on the colorful branches of peach trees, and you drank the fragrant and intoxicating spring. You write the music of wing chun on the shame of budding new branches.
Finally, here I am. I wandered freely in the dense peach forest, holding a peach branch in my hand. In a trance, I also turned into a fragrant and pleasant peach blossom in this intoxicating sea of flowers, with a faint fragrance, drifting gently on the poetic road you built with your heart.
Sitting in the still water pavilion of time, sitting in the valley forgotten by the world, sitting in the depths of your gentle eyes, listening to your soft-spoken tidbits slide gently. I become a light wing, flying in your sky. I have become a sentence with dew fog, which is euphemistic in your poem. I become an itch in your palm, which permeates your whole body.
For me, the world is so small that you can feel the mist of mountains, rivers, birds and flowers. For me, the world is so big that every time you look back, I can feel endless profundity, remoteness and vastness.
And this blossoming peach blossom, like a metaphor, quietly awakened my deep call for you lurking in the depths of my soul.
This spring, I was caught by your Taoyuan poetic dream and fell into your beautiful poetic garden with rippling spring scenery!