The years are lush, and the time passed along the way is banished to memory. The long and happy bits and pieces are like a touch of fragrance, which becomes charming in the eyes and a painting in the heart. Look at the red maple in the reincarnation, passing through thousands of turns in the soul, blooming into the most beautiful warmth in the heart.
──Inscription
In the fleeting time, who writes the lovesickness into the ink. Standing alone in the light autumn night, looking at the dim city night in the distance, the passing car lights sway my distant thoughts. Coveting the night, I hang my thoughts on the moon tree in the sky. If you are also looking at the moon at this time, can you feel my persistent concern? Can you send me a response from a distance, on this happy full moon? . Open the window of time, there is a pair of clear eyes, blinking across time and space towards the Jianjia Ferry with you, a longing for you spreads. Loneliness creeps up on the stalk of longing, and memory travels through the autumn moon of Guanshan Mountain and wanders between your mountains and rivers. The hustle and bustle of the city cannot stop the lonely toes, thoughts and thoughts. Such staggering steps hurt the past scenes. You may be well at the end of the world.
A lonely soul, covered with a thick layer of frost in autumn, wants to sing you an old song from that time in my dreams, even though the tone has lost its shape, the melody is no longer melodious, and the lyrics It’s already messy, so what’s the problem? Let the remaining memories tremble with the wind, shaking off the faint fragrance of red beans. I just want to hold the crystal brightness of the lifetime glass and use my thick ink and thin pen to engrave the moonlight that is as silent and deep as you tonight. How many emotions, how many tears, can only be explained by the long years, lingering in the small characters on the plain paper. I miss you again and again, and I am filled with sorrow again and again. You see, my heart is waiting in the middle of the vast time in Jianjia. In the clear shadow of the fragrance of ink, it lifts many scabs. Look forward to see if there is still happiness present in the time.
The time is leisurely, there are dreams in Qingqiu, I am nostalgic for spring, lingering on summer, and the sunset is still warm, and I feel the fullness and sadness of autumn with the turning of a fallen leaf. Sometimes I can't bear it. Just ask yourself, is it that the world of mortals has indifferent to you, or has it been that you have let down the world of mortals? Huddled in the depths of a season of misty rain, I still hear the old song in my ears:
"It’s hard to recall the past after a period of time
Drink a cup of green plums and feel the astringent taste
How beautiful it would be to have you when you light a red candle
Play a sad song and I will ask you for whom the beauty is
Bring back the bright moon in a midnight dream
Make a cup of coffee and taste the bitterness slowly
After a storm, too much sadness
Walking in the world of mortals, nothing else matters except you...".
The music has a gentle sound and is touching to the core. Do you also feel that there is a person who is pouring out all his tenderness, looking forward to it in the depths of time, and waiting in pain and confusion? However, as time goes by, how many melodramas of joys and sorrows will be staged every day. When everything becomes dull, will you still have a reluctant attachment? Life is about walking in the cycle of seasons, suffering hardships, and then growing up in the ups and downs, so we learn to be strong; too many tests in life sharpen our will and let us learn to take responsibility.
I like to look out of the window in such a season, pick up my thoughts like water, wet the veins of my soul, and gently lift a curtain of dreams. Whenever the maple leaves are red, with light ink on plain paper, I can't help but sketch out all the small words of love, string them into wind chimes of yearning, and hang them on the lintel of memory. The leisurely falling picture condenses into veins in an instant. The heart of the pulse is fragrant.
A piece of autumn wind, falling to the ground leisurely, letting every drop of silence linger in the broken heart, making a cup of tea and sitting at the table, thinking of you out of thin air in another life, let spring go and autumn come, let flowers wither and bloom. , if there is pain, let it be hidden deep in the shade of flowers, and I can only leave your image in the depth of memory.
In the starry night sky, collect a sense of freedom, let the breeze blow a sense of elegance, and lift up a sense of elegance far away from the hustle and bustle of the world. See if the crystal dewdrops on the petals can wash away the dust all over the body and the sadness that has nowhere to rest. Find a temporary place for your heart to rest, no longer expect anything to last forever, and look down on gains, losses, successes and failures.
Look at the red maple in the reincarnation, passing through thousands of turns in the soul, blooming into the most beautiful warmth in the heart.
On this lazy autumn day, watch the wild geese falling on the flat sand, watch the thin chrysanthemums blooming under the fence, and express your lingering thoughts in a row, with appropriate shades, and treasure the most beautiful passages at this time. Even autumn will slip away from the branches of time, but there is always hope that will not fall as the years change. Because that's what I insist on.
With one finger pointing to the coolness of autumn, the flowers are in full bloom. On a fresh morning, I quietly write a few lines of words. Occasionally, I sit on the window sill and look at the blue sky like water, enjoying peace and quiet. Occasionally, Seeing the yellow leaves falling on the branches, I feel a little emotional. Perhaps, autumn is inherently sad. The stories under those old trees also gave the light sky a touch of sadness. Always faced with these growing desolations. Once upon a time, I loved autumn so much. I am delighted that the sky is high and the air is refreshing, and I am moved by the unknown hope. Is it that time is getting further and further away from us and has never stopped, or is it that the past has withered in the rings of the years and cannot be found again? After a thousand twists and turns, Ren Joy fell into the dark sorrow of time.
I am still the same, walking alone in the vicissitudes of the years, still quiet, maybe quiet is just like me. When I have free time, I will carefully read the tiny traces of each flower and plant, or smile quietly, or stop in one place in a daze.
Time is a great sculptor. When you are surprised by a towering ancient tree growing proudly on a cliff, probably no one will not sigh at the tolerance and tenacious vitality of all things. For the things that can be experienced, be grateful for the tolerance and kindness of time; for the people and things that the passing years take away, let them disappear with the wind. After all, what is in front of you is the most real.
If one day, you still think of the past, then put it together with time. One day, they will be light enough to fly.