I said, "There must be lightness in cigarette smoke." Tell me a life story, otherwise, tell me about Buddha. "
The wife said, "Telling stories is too wild. Needless to say, I won't say it. "
"You just say what you know, anyway, we don't quite understand; Tell me, what is Buddhism? "
"Buddhism? -color,-sound,-fragrance,-taste,-touch,-artificiality,-thinking, are all dharma; Only the love of smelling incense is not Buddhism. "
"You contradict yourself again! What caused this? "
"Don't understand? Because once you fall in love with it, it becomes your hobby, and that fragrance is not the original fragrance you smell. "
Essay incense 2 Thinking and reading, lilacs have been blooming in my heart, waiting and expecting. In June, lilacs finally bloom gracefully.
That tree, a pinch of lilacs, or purple enchanting, or white elegant, gorgeous all season, fragrant for a period of time; Tender memories. I have a charming mind. The faint fragrance is intoxicating; Drunk with the wind, drunk with clouds, drunk with butterflies, drunk with the whispers of young couples, is also the most beautiful dream.
I like lilacs. Every time I pass by lilacs, I stand quietly, smelling the fragrance of lilacs, and a ray of tenderness warms my heart. There is almost a sense of greed that cannot be moved; That faint fragrance, that reserved and elegant gesture, that simple and noble charm make people feel refreshed, serene and carefree from the heart, and also make people have many beautiful reverie. ()
So, I deliberately walked to the quiet street in a drizzly dusk, smelling the faint scent of lilacs and listening to the faint whisper of lilacs, waiting for a beautiful and romantic encounter. Lilacs under the rain are more beautiful and charming. Like a slim girl, pure and innocent, fresh and refined. The smell is overflowing. Standing in front of the flowers, I held my breath, deeply sniffed the fresh fragrance of the rain and dew, and gently kissed the petals.
However, I didn't taste the "sweet sorrow" and "sadness" described by the poet, and I didn't see a girl who was as melancholy as lilac and held an oil-paper umbrella. I only think that the pure, elegant and youthful taste of lilac is like a girl's feelings. Let my soul meet a hazy crystal flower of love.
Yes, this is not the rainy lane of the south of the Yangtze River with lilacs written by the poet. Why do I insist on worrying about assigning new words? I walked out of the melancholy of Dai Wangshu's Rain Lane.
In fact, our memories are full of smells, and the fleeting smell seeps into our hearts with the sense of smell-the smell of fireworks on New Year's Eve, the smell of popcorn after the street, the smell of snacks on books at the same table, the smell of oil on grandma's hands, and the smell of lovers' shirts ... They seem to have penetrated from the distant past to the present, making you think of each other at the moment you smell them.
I passed an unknown perfume shop when I was visiting Joy City near my home this afternoon. Those delicate little bottles attracted me to the past. Although the perfume in the shop is not murderous by big brands, it is friendly and sweet. Surprisingly, one of them is lilac. I gently pressed it, and the faint clove smell came to my nose. Lilacs are rarely seen in Beijing, but in my hometown, the smell of lilacs in June can be seen everywhere, which is the smell of summer in Manchuria. At this time, people in the streets and alleys are as active as bees in the flowers, and countless happy summer days when I was a child are also integrated into the beautiful flowers.
I remember when I was in the first grade, I fell in love with reading romantic novels. Every day after school, I will sit by the lilac flowers in the north of Tianqiao and enjoy it for a while. I still remember the fragrance of flowers brought by the evening breeze in the afterglow of sunset. During the ups and downs of the plot, several lilacs danced on the page, like tears from angels, accompanying me to understand the changes of the world. I didn't go home until the type slowly sank from dusk.
The Summer Night Friendship Palace in Manzhouli is the most lively, with all kinds of performances except movies. That Russian-style tall building is like a castle in a fairy tale, and there are always bubbles of joy boiling inside. Every night there is traffic, singing and laughing. One summer, the Friendship Palace held the "China-Russia Friendship Association". All government agencies and delegations from Chita, a Russian border city, gathered in the Friendship Palace for a gala performance, which was very lively, but the seats were limited and there were no children. So some friends and I jumped in from the window of the Friendship Palace toilet, and we crept into the hall. As a result, when we looked back, there was no one at the door and we all went to the show. As soon as I entered the hall, the onlookers were crowded and I couldn't see anything. I only heard a powerful Russian baritone singing "Night outside Moscow". That was the first time I heard foreigners sing. We were eager to squeeze into the crowd and finally got to the front. A female chorus is being performed on the stage. I saw my mother at first sight. She stood in the middle, wearing a white skirt, and a beam of light just hit her.
In June of that year, we moved to a new home. In order to provide a beautiful curtain for our new home, my sister and I visited all the cloth shops in June when lilacs fell in the drizzle. We were delighted to harvest a bunch of lilac-shaped wind chimes. We hung it on the living room window, waiting for the wind to blow, which is another feeling of lilacs.
Everyone's heart reflects the reflection of some kind of flower, which is the emotion of all kinds of life precipitated in the years of flower. Now, in the dead of winter, when the foggy gas rushes to my cheeks, all the memories of lilacs come to my face, which reminds me of those years like spring breeze. At that time, flowers bloomed today, and I know how many flowers have fallen in my dream. ...
The rain in early summer moistened the cool night. I should be invited to a banquet called "New Lilacs" at Jiang Bin Road Hotel. Looking back at the misty rain outside the window, I can't help but think of the poet Dai Wangshu, the lonely rain lane, the oiled paper umbrella next to me, and the girl with lilacs. ...
In ancient poetry, cloves always give people a feeling of sadness.
For example, Li Jing's "Huanxisha", "The bluebird is not outside the cloud, and the lilacs are sad in the rain", and Li Shangyin's "The banana does not show lilacs, and the spring breeze is sad in the same direction" is full of deep sadness. According to the survey, when lilacs don't bloom, the buds are dense, such as thousands of tiny knots wrapped around the branches, as if people have endless worries and are trapped in their hearts.
"If you want to express your sorrow and mercy, the lilac knot is in your heart." "Acacia doesn't check the lilac knot, so you have to mourn the candle building." "Poor sorrow, Dongfeng can guess at will." As a result, the small lilac bud got a beautiful and sad cultural image-lilac knot, which was told through the ages. Perhaps the popular word "tangled" has the same effect.
After the lilacs bloom, the flowers are weak and slender, and the petals are almost indistinguishable and dense, and clusters are connected into a huge strawberry shape, giving people a feeling of wanting to bloom. Since the Tang and Song Dynasties, it has become a symbol of sadness.
I remember seeing a lilac tree, lush and fragrant, with purple, white and crimson lilacs hanging all over its branches. Approaching and appreciating carefully, I suddenly remembered Li Qingzhao's "Plum blossoms are vulgar and cloves are bitter and rough." I feel that the description of "clove is bitter and rough" is too appropriate, and I really have a taste of "pumping through a thousand miles of dreams, but heartless". On the other hand, if you haven't read Li Qingzhao's first poem, I don't know that the ancients used lilac knots to represent such deep sadness in the world. Not annoying!
Do you really feel this way when you see this lilac tree? Or, have no feeling at all? People's emotions are easily dominated and influenced by environment and culture. In fact, that night, the lilacs in the rain came to my mind without any worries. I just think that my friends in life are drifting away one by one, and suddenly I feel a little lonely and a little drunk. "Affectionate Ying Xiao Wo, born early", affection is just much ado about nothing. "The world is like a dream, a bottle is like a moon", at least there are dreams and this cup of blessing wine.
Lilacs, small and delicate flowers. Elegant, quiet and open. I used to stand side by side with you so persistently and pour out all my thoughts in the dust. Or passionate, or sad, so real interpretation of each other.
I am not a clove, I am just a leaf. However, when I collide with your flower heart, I would rather cut off the edges and corners, tear the last boundary or hypocrisy, hug you and feel a warmth. In the world of mortals where truth is so barren, I am entangled with your lust. I am a pair of sister flowers, blooming in the dust.
A rain, lilac rain. Sprinkle it on my heart. So soft, so soft, so quiet and moist in my dry heart. Rain, what can be more delicate, moist and thorough than rain? More importantly, it is lilac rain, full of the fragrance and elegance of Qian Fan.
How not to be attached, the warmth in silence. Without words, my lonely heart will touch your sensitive thoughts. Just like my heart, when I miss you, you miss me. In this way, we sat in each other's sight and felt the care of the breeze and drizzle.
I don't know, what is the season of lilac rain? Countless times, is it sunny or rainy in Mao Mao? Is it hot in Jiao Yang or is it snowing all over the sky? No one can tell me whether this meeting is a robbery or a blessing.
That season, I savored it with my heart. Looking at the lost youth and people around you, listening to the conversion of faith and the hypocrisy in laughter. I'm a little lost. Should I believe my own truth or find the answer from nature?
At midnight, I heard the sound of lilacs opening, so deep and subtle. Gradually, let my confused heart walk out of the haze and see the green and fiery red. I suddenly woke up, the season of lilac rain is March, the spring when everything recovers.
From then on, no matter whether my tears are a trickle of contrast or the rhetoric of the sea, only you can understand. Facing the wind and carrying fireflies, you buried my wound with nowhere to return, and let the dignity of the defeated army stand in the dictionary of life again and again.
I am not very kind, and I can't dress up in green rhyme, which makes people extremely happy. It has always been rough and thrown at you without any modification, or simply silent. This makes you sleepy, makes you cold and even disappointed. But after a long time, you know my inferiority complex, and you embrace everything with mellow and smooth feelings.
We are not separated, nor are we together. We are silent, but not lonely. We are always at odds with each other. Look at me and I'll listen to you. If one day, you and I are within reach, I will hug you hard and then run hand in hand on the long street.
Let everyone know that we are sisters, and let every inch of land under our feet know how close we are.
Some people like cloves, but I like rain. Because it is lilac rain. The world of mortals meets you, which is a hearty tear in life!
What is more precious than a knowing encounter? How much fate and accumulation is this? For life, or for life? No one can say for sure. No more questions, just cherish the season with you. Although flowers bloom and leaves fall on the other side, harmony and love will always hold hands for us. Until we no longer have the strength to look at each other, we will meet with a smile and grow old together.
"Fragrance" Essay 6 Every April, the hillside behind my hometown is full of lilacs. One plant at a time, one flower at a time, blooming in the branches. There are lavender, white, pink, good composition, good light, so charming. Charming but not swinging, subtle elegance is compelling. When I was a child, I used to lie on the windowsill on the second floor, quietly watching, thinking and reading. Lilacs have been blooming in my heart. -Flowers are still beautiful.
Lilacs are as wet as the sun, and there is a faint sadness in their bones. They are the flowers that people care about most, and they are also the flowers that people pity most. Like its coolness, like its sadness ... just like the lilac girl in the rain lane. Maybe someone will ask, you don't like flowers, do you? I don't really know about this, so I have to leave it alone.
Lilac, although gentle in personality, is full of enthusiasm. Sometimes it is as weak as water, and sometimes it is as strong as a rock. Confused and full of mystery. Facing the harsh environment and the invasion of wind and rain, it adapts, stands upright and silently resists, firmly believing that there will be a rainbow after the wind and rain; Facing the bright sunshine, the butterfly is flying. It is affectionate and gentle as water. Perhaps, it is precisely because of this that it is so beautiful, throbbing, pitying and heartbreaking!
Beauty is always short-lived, and wind and rain are always ruthless. Looking at the trees full of flowers, floating down in the wind and rain. I felt a little pity in my heart, and I fell into the mud, which was a slight sigh! As the flowers fall, they fall into the deep soil. Perhaps the wind and rain also know that without lilacs, the wind and rain have lost their bleak colors. Only lilac lingering, lilac sadness and lilac sigh. ...
If you like lilacs, you don't have to watch them in reality. In the bottom of my heart, deep in my soul, enjoy it for a long time. Lilac aura can't stand any dust, as long as it's clean, and nothing else.
A tree of lavender, a storm. Ups and downs, are you attached to butterflies? Is there any helplessness to the wind and rain? Maybe, maybe not. Whether to go or stay, whether to be happy or sad, has long been difficult to explain. A sad expression, gesture. Open in the sun and fall in the wind and rain. These are not important, what is important is that in the storm, you are sad but not sad, lonely but not indifferent. Is the most beautiful sigh in the wind and rain!
Prose on perfume 7. To taste missing is to taste life.
There is nothing precious in this life without wind and rain. A life without memory and thoughts is an incomplete life.
In a colorful life, missing is the sweetest and happiest; Among the five flavors of life, missing is the most fragrant one.
To taste missing is to taste life.
Missing is a kind of lingering, caring, spiritual maintenance and emotional interweaving.
Missing is a jar of wine, the longer it gets, the more fragrant it gets! It is a string of jingle bells hanging in front of the bed, a sincere blessing, a snuggling of white clouds winding the blue sky, and a kite winding the sky.
Missing people infinitely in my heart is a kind of helplessness and happiness; Being missed has a sad pain and a sweet feeling. Missing is a star in the night, flashing in the depths of the soul, making the soul of life full of stars. No one will miss, and people who don't miss can easily get lost in the dark.
The ruthlessness of time and the accumulation of time. The thoughts in my heart can't help but emerge. Missing makes us mature day by day!
Missing is a partner and bosom friend who grew up with us. He watched every step, every thought and every step of our life: "Being a stranger alone in a foreign land, thinking of your family more during the festive season" is a thought and blessing to your family; "I wish you a long life and a thousand miles of beauty" is the yearning and longing for love; "The tree is high in thousands of feet, and the fallen leaves return to the roots" is a deep yearning for the homeland; "One day, I will ride the wind and waves, and go straight to Yun Fan's economic sea" is the yearning for lofty ideals!
Taste miss, our thoughts are more and more mature and fuller! Missing is water or wine, melting each other's singing hearts in the deep cellar of alcohol; What is missing is silk or thread. No matter how high or far kites fly, they are chasing each other, breathing and spreading their wings.
In the cold winter night, missing gives us warmth like fire; In the days of frustration, missing gives us endless comfort; In the rain, missing is a persistent umbrella; In my dream, I think you are a boat.
People who miss you may be lonely, but they are not alone; People who miss you may be sad, but they are not sad; The person who misses you may be bitter, but the flame of joy will burn in his heart forever. In the dream of spring, summer, autumn and winter, grass will always grow and flowers will always bloom ... I think you can make time pass faster; It is so fast that people become helpless; Missing shortens time and space and becomes close at hand; Missing makes our life full of vitality; Sweet aftertaste; Missing makes our life full of flowers, sunshine and endless love.
Essay 8 When Xiangxiang passed by the food market, there was a clear cry in her ear: "Fresh zongzi, fresh zongzi, one in 2 yuan!" Looking inside, I saw a woman in her thirties selling zongzi. The pure and unique fragrance of zongzi came to my nose, and I bought four without hesitation. I don't remember when I began to have a special feeling for zongzi. I love to eat zongzi, because the mellow fragrance of zongzi and the deep maternal love have accumulated in my memory, emitting pure fragrance and reminding me of infinite good memories.
Now you can buy zongzi in supermarkets or stalls, and the packaging is exquisite and beautiful. However, I feel like something is always missing, far less beautiful and refreshing than what my mother wrapped when I was a child. As far as I can remember, every family in our village makes zongzi the day before the Dragon Boat Festival every year. In the morning, each family will collect big bamboo leaves from its own bamboo forest and soak them in hot water for three to four hours after returning home. After all the raw materials were ready, the aunts gathered in groups to pack jiaozi in the house: while packing jiaozi, they talked about topics such as which children are promising and which crops are particularly good. In their laughter, bamboo leaves and raw materials are flying in their hands, and angular dumplings are shaped in their flexible hands. We children argue endlessly, "this is mine and that is yours!" " "That kind of eager expression seems to be eating delicious zongzi soon. Sisters are much cuter than us. They are learning how to make zongzi for the elderly. After clumsy imitation, all kinds of rice dumplings tied with flowers are also shaped one after another, but they are of different sizes, and some of them are not tied yet. The rice grains leak out of the cracks, which makes us laugh.
After jiaozi is wrapped, cook it slowly over low heat. Once cooked, it will last for one night. On the morning of Dragon Boat Festival, it was just dawn. The first thing my brother and I did when we got up was to rush into the kitchen. At this time, the kitchen is steaming, filled with a faint smell of zongzi, which makes people salivate. At this time, we forgot to wash our faces and gargle, and did not hesitate to bring out one or two small zongzi from the steaming pot. The wet zongzi is so hot that we keep changing it from left hand to right hand and from right hand to left hand. There was nothing to eat, so I had to keep blowing zongzi in my hand. Mom doesn't know when she will appear behind us. Seeing our impatience, she will give each of us a bowl and say, "Don't worry, don't worry, eat slowly!" " "Can we relax? Looking forward to the stars and the moon, looking forward to the early arrival of this day. When the rice dumplings are a little cold, we can't wait to peel off the leaves of the rice dumplings, insert a chopstick into the white and glittering rice dumplings, put the rice dumplings into a bowl filled with white sugar or honey, roll them gently, then hold them high above our heads and hold their heads high and take a bite slowly. The breath will be smooth, not greasy or sticky, and the aroma will be secreted into our hearts. At that time, we felt that there was nothing happier than this moment.
Now, I have been working for ten years. With the passage of time, the pressure from all sides is increasing. I gradually developed the dependence and laziness of modern people, got used to the convenience of buying food with cash, and lost the enthusiasm of inheriting traditional folk crafts. Only when I received delicious zongzi from my mother on holidays did I feel ashamed. My mother gave me too much and I gave her too little. Now, in the face of these four delicious zongzi, I have lost the excitement of my youth, but it has evoked my good memories of zongzi.
Prose on Fragrance 9 Flowers have their own fragrance, because they are waiting to bloom inadvertently. The cloud has its vastness, because it floats in fantasy inadvertently. The forest has its own peace, because it is inadvertently covered by dense. Life has its own fragrance, because when you inadvertently feel safe.
I hope that time will not wash away the agarwood of the years, and I can be good with her. When I was a child, I always loved to run under the blue sky, but my mother always sat on the grass with me and laughed so heartily. She always gently caresses her nakedness and touches my hair, reminding me of my little hands. Staring at me intently, I saw her mouth rise and burst into the most natural smile. "Mom, why is the sky blue?" "Because blue sets off white clouds." This simple conversation witnessed my growth. Our heads are against our heads, our shoulders are against our shoulders, and our hearts are against our hearts. In such a free mind and gentle maternal love, our childhood self inadvertently precipitated the purest and happiest fragrance.
Thirteen years have passed, and I am thirteen years old. I am afraid that the light will cover the clearest eyes, and that being busy will dilute me and her. Whenever I go home on weekends, I am full of complaints, restless and impetuous. I sighed deeply when I saw my mother always busy with her head down. She poured a glass of water and listened to the sound of water. She walked slowly into my room. She gently handed me the glass of water. "Drink some water and don't put too much pressure on yourself." She patted me on the back, frowning, and her deep eyes revealed helplessness full of vicissitudes. We didn't say anything, lying in bed together, I seemed to hear blood flowing, because we are a family. In this way, I lost myself and threw myself into my mother's arms. I didn't lose the enthusiasm of that year, but I had more traces of time. Mother is no longer black hair, but white silver silk, no longer delicate skin, but wrinkles printed with years. The only constant is the initial heart. In this ordinary day, hand in hand * * * to cross the beautiful.
I don't know what will happen in the future, but before I left her, it was all so ordinary. Her back will bend, her heart will not be so strong, and her concern for me is that I will sincerely repay her without any reason. Gently pull up her hand, stroke her silver hair, and pass it into the glass of water with a growing breath. Just listen to the wind quietly.
Prose on Fragrance 10 Hey, young man who runs recklessly, can you slow down a little and don't miss it: the clear river flows with you, and every drop of water is a dream: flowers are blooming around, and the fragrance of flowers is your best companion; In front of us are beaches and waves, feeling the warmth of the sea breeze from afar.
Life is like a song, and rich experiences compose every chapter for you. If you want to play loud notes, you must travel bravely. Bathe in the sunshine and cast a shadow in your life. I don't know if you have seen that in every corner that is easily overlooked, there are tiny desires growing quietly in the sunshine and rain. These are your most insignificant ideals, and they will go to poetry and distance with you.
There are four seasons in a year, and spring is the signpost for the beginning of your dream. Here, you have your initial courage: summer is the inevitable comfort and hardship in your journey, you will encounter intense heat and long for coolness; Autumn gives you the joy of harvest, and it is also the joy of looking back on the road you have traveled and embracing success; There is dusk in winter, just like every past event in your memory, which is engraved in your heart by the fleeting time.
As time goes by, reminiscence is also yearning. When your wine is mellow and you think happily, why are you afraid of sadness even in your dreams today? After all, life is short. Only cherish every smile along the way and reap every fragrance. When you can choose a warm sun as your partner, you can be unscrupulous and have dreams. Even if the journey is long, you can still ride the wind and waves and sow the light.