Through the willows, flowers bloom and fall for another year. Wind without trace, rain like smoke, glides across your face, your shoulders, moistens your eyes, raises your hands, ages your face, and no one cares. Oh! It's like water has been flowing for years.
You are the half-hand scroll I left in the world of mortals, emitting ink fragrance. I don't remember writing any touching poems. Turn it over and let the wind float in the sky and feel tired; You are the paper fan I left in front of the carved door, with beautiful lace and classical pictures. Rain and smoke moisten your face and let the wind blow it away.
A withered petal falls between the pages, still as bright as a rose, which is the last decoration of youth. I came across a piece of yellow writing paper, the handwriting on it had become lighter, and the green poem came into view. I smiled knowingly, but tears blurred my eyes and wet the writing paper for more than 20 years! Oh! It's like water has been flowing for years.
The beautiful girl sits quietly by the river, neither lonely nor lonely, holding a scroll in her hand, and the book overflows your face and the words overflow your heart. You can wear linen robes or gold satin; You can turn your face to the sky or smoke and dye it. You can be elegant, but don't refuse to be brilliant; You can be plain and don't refuse to be gorgeous. You can hold a swallow in your hand without trace, or you can compete with the beautiful Yuhuan. A young face looks good no matter what.
You can be lazy and sleep until sunrise. Mom's meal has been heated again and again, for fear of disturbing the sweetness in your dreams. You can laugh, you can cry and you can love. Under the free sky, the most beautiful saussurea involucrata is opened. One thing, no matter how busy you are, don't neglect your books. Mo Xiang will make you feel beautiful and let you dance freely. Don't forget to recharge your batteries no matter how tired you are. There are many changes on the road of life, and this is the best capital.
Please slow down, stay at the door of marriage, don't go to daily necessities too early, and enjoy the romance of being single. Youth is only a few years, and it is often alive. You can hold a paper umbrella, walk in the south of the Yangtze River, and watch the flowers bloom like silk. You can take a boat in Wu Peng, walk slowly along the river, see the flowers on the riverside like fire and the clear water like blue, let the wind blow away your long hair, let the rain wet your clothes and listen to the flute. The fog and smoke in the south of the Yangtze River moistens your beauty. It's so beautiful!
No matter how far the work is from home, always go home and have a look, and wrap a circle of wool with your mother, so that your home will be short; Give dad a cup of fragrant tea and have a long talk. Inadvertently, you find that mom has added white hair and dad has asthma. You should tell dad to smoke less and let mom take some time to give her face that is no longer young. Alas, how many years have passed in the blink of an eye. Oh! Just like water!
One day, you came to the grave with flowers in your hand, and they were already sleeping at the foot of the mountain. The warmth of the past is just around the corner. Have a cup of tea, and the person who loves you will walk away slowly. Think about it, most of their gorgeous youth is paid by them, and most of their wedding ceremonies are dedicated by them! Why don't you be nice to them! A little! Tears fall unconsciously, fall ...
I regret that I didn't spend more time with my parents when I was young, so I let the tears of missing pass through the rain curtain and flow down my grave. Think about it, they are afraid of spending money and live a lonely life. If time goes by, you will definitely show them the wonderful rivers and mountains, five thousand years in China.
Suddenly, you find that the wind has wrinkled your face and your waist is no longer soft. You became a copy of your mother. There is no time for self-pity. You care about your eyes, are busy with money and think about the next generation. When you turn your hand, you are old again. Oh! Just like water!
In the long winter, in the evening, snowflakes float quietly on the window bars with window grilles and by the warm fire. You are already wrapped in silver, thinking about whether the children in the distance are safe and whether the new year's goods for the Spring Festival are all ready.
Suddenly, I remembered the pile of yellow old photos and turned them over. I understand your whisper. Is this me? Why are these pictures so beautiful! The sleeves are full of flowers, and the song ends. Oh! Just like water!