Prose poem on the coming of spring?

Spring rubs shoulders with the earth as the spring winds step in a graceful dance, and just in this instant, every corner of the earth becomes beautifully purple and red. Fountains spit out a wonderful flower of water, misty green shade between a mass of pink in the gentle sway; the following is there, welcome to see.

: I am the early spring

I stand in the spring of dawn

see the dawn break into my body

My pain in the cutting of the war chestnut numbness and die

My love in the dead carrion buds Awakening

I am in the mirror at the age of forty to dress

Scooped a ladle of blood sanctuary to wash the soul

Trying to remove the mask as if tearing through the twilight past

Picking the foundation of my first heart and applying it as a youthful smile

I'm dancing madly to brighten the dawn by dancing the night

I'm going to dress up as a twilight fairy

No matter how much the gods have slandered me in the late autumn

I just want to catch the kite of the spring as it is about to end

I just want to try to catch the kite of the spring.

Chanting in another voice

I was originally the early spring

: You're on the far side of my spring

You're on the far side of my spring

Through the clear glass window

You're the butterfly's wings

You're the rain's ****

Day by day, summer warms up and fall cools down

Sending away the The red flowers and green leaves

And the low-brow time

No need to ask where the flowers have gone

For whom the crows are singing

The heart's song that has yet to be played on the strings

Falls into the wandering dreams of the darkness of the night

You are in the faraway place of my spring

Separated by the camelbirds of the desert and the Gobi wall

You are the lone geese in the grassland.

You are the shepherd's lost sheep

Year after year, I look up and look north

We welcome the heat and cold

And we welcome the blossoming of flowers

No need to ask you where you've gone

And I don't know where you're going

And I don't know where I'm going back and forth

The thoughts that have not yet been shed from my heart

have been hidden away in the past, which has been flipped over from one page to another

When I was a young man, I was in the middle of the world.

You are far away from me in the spring

Separated by a hundred and eighty thousand miles of road and the moon

You are a floating cloud in the heavenly realm

You are a lotus in the Yaochi pond

You are waiting for me to meet you in the words of the bodhisattva

You are parting with me on the chakras of the wheel of the sutra wheel

The winds of the seven seas have gifted me with the clothes of the present life

The world is full of years of flow. The swallows

flying in pairs in the mud of spring

this spring of building dreams ....... People who have read this also: