Text: Long hair welcomes the sky
North. Winter. String moon. Neon. The first snow began to drift away.
a person is sitting behind a curtain of snow fog, listening to the sound of snow falling. The falling dead leaves were quickly covered by snow, and disappeared like a speck of dust, and sank with my memory.
It seems that every winter is spent like this. I curl up in my warm cabin, light a curling lamp, listen to music, sip steaming tea, read my favorite books, and watch the wind, frost, rain and snow slide outside the window year after year. I would like to live in my castle like this and watch the years pass quietly, like water. I wonder if the traces of time have hung on my face and engraved on my heart. I know that one day, my eyes will no longer be as clear as snowflakes. After years of heavy snow, will you remember the woman behind the snow, the past, such as the heart of snow?
Looking up at the pedestrians on the road, everyone is in a hurry. The winter solstice hasn't arrived yet, and the cold at the moment is not biting. I think walking alone on the road and watching the leaves that will not fall will make me feel a little sad, feel the warmth of home and accelerate my pace involuntarily. I was reminded of the ancient poem, "Chai Men smells dogs barking, and the snow returns to people at night". When I think about this, I can't help laughing, not at others, but at myself. Sitting in the house all day thinking, the truth and illusion are blurred, and many scenes have never been experienced and will never be realized, but they are inexplicably familiar and frightened. It's as if wings were born in my heart, drifting through time and space, flying for me one after another. It turns out that imagination can be so real or so absurd.
I suddenly remembered an old song from many years ago: Keep your feelings away, leave your memories blank, forget the past you once had, and never say love again ... If you like these innocent old songs, a few words will solve all your worries. How many words can be realized in the misty promises of that year? I don't know and I can't prove it. I just know that it will never bring the slightest excitement or dizziness, just like fireworks blooming in the night sky. Beauty belongs to her for only a moment, and the wind blows away, and the prosperity ends, and everything is empty.
Moonlight and snow shadow roll in the window, sprinkle on the table by the window, sprinkle on my forehead, and moisten my soul. Fingertips danced again, pouring out her loneliness. It's just a game and a dream. It's just that the rules of this game are impermanent. This dream can see the other side, but it can't swim. This play is wonderful, it should be staged when it is time to stage, and it should end when it is time to end. This game is very helpless, from clear to fuzzy, from spring flowers to autumn dew. Like a wisp of wind, a scene of snow, ups and downs at will, I don't know how to go, I don't know where to end.
"whatever you go, whatever you come; What's the hurry between going and coming? " Mr. Zhu Ziqing's "Hurry" made me sigh. It turned out that everything was doomed to be in a hurry, and I couldn't chase it all my life.
the snow outside the window has stopped. I stayed where I was, like a butterfly tired of dancing, unable to fly away.
The sun is bright, but the wind is strong. At last, the leaves of Fatong on Ruijin Road are almost gone. The girl has asked me again and again, Brother, is winter coming?
yes, the newspaper says that it will snow in Nanjing on Friday, and maybe winter has really begun.
It's good for you to say that it snows. You like it best, but is it heavy?
I said, it's not big. It's a light snow. I can't see it when I fall to the ground.
you pout, it's better not to go down.
yes, the earth is too impetuous to accommodate the seeds of the sky.
It seems that every winter's mood is as transparent and dense as frozen water. So I thought of the song "The First Snow" by Bandry, which is as soft as snow, as clear as water, as beautiful and sad as love. Therefore, if you choose the tune as the background music of the bridge version, people who listen to it may have their own understandings, but this music really penetrates the soul and gives you unprecedented peace and tranquility.
I remember that in December, 21, I was lonely and depressed when I was drinking in a bar in Xinjiekou. When I didn't want to drink that day, the host said that I won the prize. The prize is a cup with a Christmas snow scene painted outside, filled with hot water and the sound of music. When I walked down the street with a cup in my arms, the snow had surrounded the city. Thick snowflakes fell quietly from the invisible sky, covered with clothes and all over the body. I raised my glass and filled it with the first snow in winter, but the music was frozen at this time.
In the future, this musical cup will become a companion. At that time, I was very unhappy at work, and I always wanted to escape and escape far away. However, I still didn't have the courage in the end. On weekends, standing on the balcony, a cup full of water makes a beautiful melody under the sunshine, so I feel satisfied.
I always like to wrap myself, like a box that can't be opened without a password, and I am always separated from others by an insurmountable obstacle. I like loneliness, I like sadness, I like walking alone under the city wall, which is a person's scenery. Of course, a person is like a tree in winter. After all the leaves fall, life feels powerless, and he is often full of pessimism and despair about the world. In September, 23, after an online story happened by accident, my music cup was broken, and the scenery of one person gradually became noisy.
in February, 23, I went to a live edition gathering in Nanjing and met the host, Han Yilan. Her eyes are melancholy, and she has a particularly good impression of me. That feeling is actually a little heart-to-heart. Just like me and the college counselor, she is a few years older than me, but we can also find this feeling between us. That kind of feeling is unspeakable, but it is touching in my heart. This touch is purely a spiritual appreciation and a closeness. I drank a lot of wine that day, including white wine, beer, northeast sorghum wine, foreign wine and red wine. When the show was over, everyone was shocked. I don't know when the snow had covered the ground. These adults are laughing in the snow, opening their arms to let the snow melt on their faces.
On the overseas Chinese road, Han made a path in the snow, and her running figure is still imprinted in my mind. Because I have never seen her since then, and now she is in distant France. It is a romantic country, and I think she can truly match her temperament there. After I came back, I wrote a poem, posted it on their edition, and gave it to her, this cabbage heart sister.
There is no lover in the snow
Is it you
In the shadow of snow
Every white sound touched by hands
The snow is melting quietly
I seem to be holding your tears
hotter than fire
It can burn me to the ground without a trace
It can also hang me under the eaves in the morning < Dance
Knock on the faces eager for spring
They are laughing
Like the loneliness hidden in your eyes
Only you know
When I won't cheat you
I am running like an idiot
My body is printed all over the earth
Even where you are most unlikely to go
Leave every drop of my blood
. Ah
Do you know
I'm afraid that if the snow stops
I'll never find you again
These are two deep memories of snowing in my mind. We both like snowing. Snow can remind people of beauty, and the most beautiful thing in memory is love, maybe not love. Melancholy and tears are also a kind of beauty in winter, just like the tactful plot of life and death in Winter Love Song.
During this year, I seldom wrote my own words. Today is the only one. Even though I am at work now, I still wear my ears and listen to "The First Snow" and immerse myself in my own world. When a person has more time for everyone, he must turn around and find his own shadow. If you can't even find yourself, you may doubt the necessity of your existence. The sun is bright, but the wind is very strong. The leaves of Fatong on Ruijin Road are finally falling. The girl once asked me again and again, Brother, is winter coming?
yes, the newspaper says that it will snow in Nanjing on Friday, and maybe winter has really begun.
It's good for you to say that it snows. You like it best, but is it heavy?
I said, it's not big. It's a light snow. I can't see it when I fall to the ground.
you pout, it's better not to go down.
yes, the earth is too impetuous to accommodate the seeds of the sky.
It seems that every winter's mood is as transparent and dense as frozen water. So I thought of the song "The First Snow" by Bandry, which is as soft as snow, as clear as water, as beautiful and sad as love. Therefore, if you choose the tune as the background music of the bridge version, people who listen to it may have their own understandings, but this music really penetrates the soul and gives you unprecedented peace and tranquility.
I remember that in December, 21, I was lonely and depressed when I was drinking in a bar in Xinjiekou. When I didn't want to drink that day, the host said that I won the prize. The prize is a cup with a Christmas snow scene painted outside, filled with hot water and the sound of music. When I walked down the street with a cup in my arms, the snow had surrounded the city. Thick snowflakes fell quietly from the invisible sky, covered with clothes and all over the body. I raised my glass and filled it with the first snow in winter, but the music was frozen at this time.
In the future, this musical cup will become a companion. At that time, I was very unhappy at work, and I always wanted to escape and escape far away. However, I still didn't have the courage in the end. On weekends, standing on the balcony, a cup full of water makes a beautiful melody under the sunshine, so I feel satisfied.
I always like to wrap myself, like a box that can't be opened without a password, and I am always separated from others by an insurmountable obstacle. I like loneliness, I like sadness, I like walking alone under the city wall, which is a person's scenery. Of course, a person is like a tree in winter. After all the leaves fall, life feels powerless, and he is often full of pessimism and despair about the world. In September, 23, after an online story happened by accident, my music cup was broken, and the scenery of one person gradually became noisy.
in February, 23, I went to a live edition gathering in Nanjing and met the host, Han Yilan. Her eyes are melancholy, and she has a particularly good impression of me. That feeling is actually a little heart-to-heart. Just like me and the college counselor, she is a few years older than me, but we can also find this feeling between us. That kind of feeling is unspeakable, but it is touching in my heart. This touch is purely a spiritual appreciation and a closeness. I drank a lot of wine that day, including white wine, beer, northeast sorghum wine, foreign wine and red wine. When the show was over, everyone was shocked. I don't know when the snow had covered the ground. These adults are laughing in the snow, opening their arms to let the snow melt on their faces.
On the overseas Chinese road, Han made a path in the snow, and her running figure is still imprinted in my mind. Because I have never seen her since then, and now she is in distant France. It is a romantic country, and I think she can truly match her temperament there. After I came back, I wrote a poem, posted it on their edition, and gave it to her, this cabbage heart sister.
There is no lover in the snow
Is it you
In the shadow of snow
Every white sound touched by hands
The snow is melting quietly
I seem to be holding your tears
hotter than fire
It can burn me to the ground without a trace
It can also hang me under the eaves in the morning < Dance
Knock on the faces eager for spring
They are laughing
Like the loneliness hidden in your eyes
Only you know
When I won't cheat you
I am running like an idiot
My body is printed all over the earth
Even where you are most unlikely to go
Leave every drop of my blood
. Ah
Do you know
I'm afraid that if the snow stops
I'll never find you again
These are two deep memories of snowing in my mind. We both like snowing. Snow can remind people of beauty, and the most beautiful thing in memory is love, maybe not love. Melancholy and tears are also a kind of beauty in winter, just like the tactful plot of life and death in Winter Love Song.
During this year, I seldom wrote my own words. Today is the only one. Even though I am at work now, I still wear my ears and listen to "The First Snow" and immerse myself in my own world. When a person has more time for everyone, he must turn around and find his own shadow. If you can't even find yourself, you may doubt the necessity of your existence.
Respondent: Love stays on earth-Scholar Level 2 1-2 13:32
Snow in Yangguan
In ancient China, once a scholar, there was no sufficient view. The resplendence of civil servants lies in the official, not in the literature. As a scholar, < P > they are also unsatisfied in the officialdom. However, things are very strange. When the Emei Bo Belt has already fallen into mud, a bamboo pen occasionally scribbles poems, which can engrave mountains and rivers, carve people's hearts and never wander.
I once had a chance to look up at Baidi City on a river boat at dusk, climb the Yellow Crane Tower against the thick autumn frost, and touch Hanshan Temple on a winter night. There are a lot of people around me, and almost most people's hearts are echoing with those poems that don't need to be quoted. People come to look for scenery, but also to look for poetry. They can recite these poems as children. Children's imagination is sincere and realistic. Therefore, these cities, these buildings, and these temples have been built in their own hearts. When they are old, when they just realize
that they have enough feet, they also bear a heavy house debt for themselves and eagerly look forward to a field visit to the poetic realm. For childhood, for history, for many unspeakable reasons. Sometimes, this kind of thirst is just like looking for the lost hometown < P > and visiting the separated relatives.
The magic power of the literati can actually turn such a lonely corner of the world into a hometown in everyone's heart. What magic is hidden in their faded blue
?
Today, I went to find Yangguan in response to Wang Wei's Song of Weicheng. Before leaving, I called the old man in the county where I stayed. The answer was: "The road is long and there is nothing to see, but some literati have worked hard to find it." The old man looked up at
the sky and said, "The snow keeps falling for a while, so don't suffer this." I bowed to him and turned and got into the snow.
as soon as you walk out of the small county, it's a desert. There is nothing but snow white, and even a wrinkle can't be found.
when traveling in other places, always find a goal for yourself in each section, stare at a tree and drive there, and then stare at the head of a stone and drive there. Here, I can't see a target with my eyes open, even a dead leaf and a black spot. So, just
look up at the sky. I've never seen such a complete day, and I haven't been swallowed at all.