When I woke up this morning, I looked out of the window and saw a drizzling rain. Although it is early spring, but just a faction of bleak, a gloomy and solemn scene. Suddenly a cool wind came, could not help but shiver. I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to do, but I'm going to be able to do a lot of things that I'm going to be able to do.
A touch of sadness surging in the heart, the mind vaguely floating picture: a weak and elegant woman, standing alone in the garden corner shade, one hand lotus hoe, a hand holding a pouch full of petals, tearful eyes, such as a crystal along the cheeks slipped, wet lapel, full of peach blossoms flying with the wind, only to hear a few whimpering: the quality of the original clean and also clean to go, that is, the old face of the death. Once the spring is over, the red face is old, the flowers fall and the people die without knowing! Crying like a broken heart, how can not let people pity. This scene, I have visited many times in my dream, but so far the sound of the aftermath.
Daiyu buried flowers, borrowing the eyes of the bystanders, but it is a small nature, you see, just that the flowers fall on the fall, which is so demented people buried in bags. Ridiculous? Just, just, the world's eyes how to see the sadness and despair in her heart! I have a deep sense of: burying flowers seems nonsense, in fact, to bury their own life emotions to take care of this scattered with the wind, as alone, ill-fated, like their own fallen Ying. The flower has no one to pity me to pity, I have no one to pity who more pity? The sympathy between people and flowers is all the more poignant. I'd like to say goodbye to this flower mound with my tears, that is, I will have flowers to accompany me on the way to the Yellow Springs.
That is the most lively but the Dragon Boat Festival, full of joy, Daiyu would like to find Baoyu chat, but I did not expect to be the first to suffer from the gas of the maid Qingwen, ate a closed door, and listened to the Yihongyuan Bao hairpin and Baoyu chatting, laughter curls, she could not help but feel sad about their own fence, more than a flood of tears. He was dark, lightning, thunder, rain and fall, leaning alone outside the door, and how a taste of it, perhaps that the laughter coming from the pavilion for fear of more a layer of irony. This is weak and sick, but also ignore the night cold, braving the rain straight away, the wind blowing leaves, rain on the banana leaf crackling sound must be no one asked.
Perhaps you are the peach blossom, after the flowers thank you would rather cleanly buried in the soil to sleep, but also do not want to wind into the red dust with the obstacles, and would not want to sprinkle people trampled on the ground, dirt. You such as peach blossoms like straight, clean and proud nature only call for admiration, convinced. Just as when every joy after the scene, people want to try to get into it, afraid of being seen as a different kind, alone to bear the loneliness. In fact, some of the unnecessary gatherings, ineffective socialization, after the dispersal of the abrupt end of the serenity, the more painfully intolerable, sustained inner some of the clean land, in the habit of being alone, will experience the beauty of such tranquility.
The beauty of serenity prose 2The day is warm and cold. A flurry of snow, as if the winter is close to the exit before the last game with the spring. After the snow, I stepped on a lake and three islands that I haven't been to for a long time, and the island was covered with snow everywhere, as if I had walked into a fairy tale world. Willow, lilac tree and pine tree hanging a large part of the residual snow as a piece of blooming pick flower, very lovely.
At this time, the three islands of the lake, less than the bustling scene of the summer, coupled with a snowstorm yesterday, it is very few people involved. The road to the island is covered with snow, only by virtue of the surrounding trees to recognize the trend, it is both challenging, but also with a sense of mystery, in a blanket of snow, we walk every step will be issued a squeaky sound, every step will leave a string of new footprints. For those who have lived in the city for a long time, it's a real treat to be able to enjoy such a joy of exploration and innovation.
Step into the depths of the dense forest, above the blue sky, below the snow, surrounded by trees waiting to sprout in early spring, in which, savor, the hustle and bustle of the city, silk and bamboo chaotic ear, the world's troubles as if this crystal, white snow to the cover. At this moment, there is only one word: "quiet".
In this quiet, I seem to recall Liu Zongyuan depicted the "thousands of birds flying away from the mountains, ten thousand trails, lonely boat Demoiselle Weng, fishing alone in the cold river snow," the scene, the beauty of the harmony between man and nature is the world's most beautiful and beautiful, on the other hand, put the birds in the cage of man-made beauty, compared with this scene is the destruction of the nature and ecology. It is the most beautiful and great beauty in the world. No wonder, nowadays, many people in the city, yearning for a cottage in the countryside, a piece of mulberry, a clear water garden life, to pursue the "pick chrysanthemums under the East Fence, easy to see the South Mountain" transcendental mentality.
As you can see, Songbei's Yihusan Island is not only beautiful in the summer, but also in the winter when you visit the island to experience a different kind of magic and mystery.
The beauty of serenity prose 3
Always wanted to change a kind of identity, do not need anyone to know, just want to write the heart of those lonely sadness, and then find an easy to give up the reason to seek a mood of serenity of the beauty.
Looking at the pen of these plausible words, like an intentional or unintentional speech, do not look forward to who can understand, just as a mood of release. Perhaps, the viewer will be in the text, but I think more in the text outside.
I don't remember how to encounter the words of these elves, but they are so in my soul constantly dancing, those lingering sad words, such as the hands of the hands of the sand, with the wind scattered in one after another of the lonely night.
They are always so easy to make me melancholy, but so that I can not give up, once fantasized, just write their own light mood with indifferent words, but from the days of the new words to the days of sadness to clear sadness lingering not away from the body of the years, has always been so that the mood of the low, put the words gray, dreamy years, burned in such words, and then erase, like water without trace.
Life, but left countless scratches, dark brown scabs, hiding in the back of the light, secretly laughing. The soul of the text is like the soul of the moon, the soul of the moon is like the soul of the heart, plain vegetarian, refreshing bone cool, that is, such as the grains of chess on the chess scale, or messy or neat, out of a game of life, win or lose, the chess road in the heart, clear insights.
With the text, there will be a net thing. The network is like smoke, time is like water, years like smoke, the dream is staged on the keyboard, dance alone, in the mouse quietly curtain, no applause.
In fact, no matter what attitude to face the emotions, who can not maintain a constant sobriety. Although, everyone knows, emotions can be simpler, more light-hearted, caught up in the emotions of the people, each other will be much easier. However, that a tired face, a burden of pain in the heart, clearly told me to do these, is so difficult.
The sky south and north, people far from the end of the world near. I think, these people, even if the street meets one day, but also just rub shoulders, who knows the face of the gentleman? A world of people, perhaps only should be in their own world, the world of the network, go when the mountains are quiet, go when the clamor, a season of depression, step snow and goodbye, to find a belong to my reality of the spring.
Network world, I am not destined to return to the people, just believe that the thin horse walked through the west wind of the passers-by, towards my direction, although, it seems to have forgotten the direction. But the thin horse knows the way I want to go. At the end of the night when deeper still code words of the years will only be a touch of light dust on the lamp, slow breath, will be blown away. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world, and then you can get your hands on some of the most popular ones.
All the way down the road, looking at those gradually blurred thin text, slowly opened into a snow-colored flowers, non-stop knocking fingertips, such as a green vine, but also tightly entangled in the years on top of the wall.
These people, these things. The landscape remains the same, in the wind and rain, a touch of floating if passed, whose figure is it? Always wandering in the long lonesome loneliness, always in the text of the heartache of the charming figure, and, watching my gentle as water gaze. Whose figure, always smiling, the sadness of my eyebrows picked off, with a slender finger gently popped down, into a melodious music, smoothing out my hundred knots of sadness.
And who is the figure, stepping on the delicate fragrance, in a whispered whisper, came slowly. They are in the words of my overflowing lovesickness, facing the wind independently, cross flute blowing lightly. They picked up the thoughts that I left behind in the wind and haunted me in my words.
The net thing is long, soaked with the words of flowers, can always touch my heart strings of sadness, these words, let my heart slightly pain. The last thing I want to do is to erase the traces that are engraved in my heart, and deep down, there are thousands of knots twisting around, but I want to talk about it.
Spring is getting meaner and meaner, constantly putting a word secretly increased weight. Numerous late characters quieted down, listened to the combing of this wind, resting on their destiny. Green and yellow, yellow and green, how necessary.
Dust is not a dream, the network but with the wind, regardless of his beautiful flowers or broken walls, and since the return, to find a warm spring, no matter how far to walk or how many years.
At this moment, the night wind with elegant fingers, gently knocking on the edge of the window, detached from the sycamore, who's . The figure, stepping on the cold wind is slowly walking?
The beauty of serenity in prose 4Early weekend morning, strolling in the vegetation and high-rise interspersed with the neighborhood, quiet paths, elegant pavilions, vying for the magnolia and peach trees, apricot trees, date palms, as well as apple and plum trees, echoing each other, located in all corners of the neighborhood. Last night's rain had cleaned the trees, houses, and pavilions, all of which were spotless and clear. There are also artificially sculpted flower pools and ponds, small beaches and the tranquil stillness of the running water of the creek; even the cries of the robin seem so wonderful. As if a beautiful landscape painting, but also like a city garden.
The curved forest path is seen from time to time in the neighborhood people are walking, some walking, some in the running. Pavilion, small square, non-stop people come over, there are playing Tai Chi, there are square dancing, busy and happy, but also easy and refreshing ......
Here there is no BMW, Audi and even less big trucks and tractors, the neighborhood property planning, drawing out the most humane management map, even small dogs out of the masters! With a grass rope holding the neck, small flower pool set up on the side of the square potty. Because there are no vehicles, children can play freely without restraint. Early in the morning in addition to morning exercise people and do not like to sleep lazy little friends, get up early by the old man pulling or sitting on the cart to see the scenery, or to stay in the pond by the fine sand to play, or in the neighborhood curved paths to enjoy laughing and joking, fooling around ......
This is my life in the neighborhood, the beauty of this serenity and the hustle and bustle of the outside! The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new one, and you'll be able to do that.
Maybe you're tired of fighting for your life, maybe you're depressed about the dullness of your work, maybe you've lost your mind because you haven't found a suitable livelihood yet, or maybe you're in trouble with your boss and coworkers; but no matter what kind of fatigue, what kind of unhappiness, what kind of tension, what kind of complexes you have - come back to the neighborhood to take a walk, Turn around, all this fatigue and despondency will disappear in this full of relaxed atmosphere on the trail, grass, courtyard between ......,
Your heart is quiet, your world is also serene.