A curtain of quiet dreams is long, and midnight is not over.
Who dyed the sideburns cream in the morning? Tears fall thousands of lines.
Wine rewards the bright moon, and youth is white.
How to hide your sad face in front of the mirror? How dare you remember and forget?
-Drunk.
Time is incomplete. I once believed in the purity of the sky, and beautiful memories gradually froze and stored in my mind. The familiar scenery has long been washed away in the river of years. The temperature remaining in the palm of your hand, in the desolation of things being transformed, also slowly cools down with the memory. Facing the flashy life, the young heart that has never experienced the world has gradually changed from impatience to calmness. With the passage of time, the beautiful youth slowly and quietly passed away, but there is no need to complain, because the long road of life has just begun. On this messy road of life, I walked slowly with a pious heart. I wonder if I can walk out of a pure and fragrant future with my careful steps. ?
It's hard to stop the rush of time, just like those things that can't be left behind. Even if there is too much reluctance and attachment, it will not help. Maybe what is lost is doomed to be lost. Too much importune will only add unnecessary wounds, but that regretless heart makes me hard to let go for a while. Quietly combing the broken mood, the silence at this time made me feel a sense of trance and slack fatigue, and I didn't know how to let go for a while. However, some things, although already clear, have been unable to find an excuse to forget. How much camouflage is hidden behind those seemingly unruly smiles? It looks ridiculous. I wonder who missed it. In this past that has nothing to do with the past, let me be alone with the flowers and the moon, and pay homage to the fate in the world of mortals with the falling of a loving maple leaf. ?
The yellowing memory slowly fell off in my mind, but when I bent down to pick it up, it was already broken all over the floor. Maybe I should forget it and really shouldn't remember it again, but God has given me such a strong memory, and I want to get rid of everything that goes wrong, but with my repeated insistence, everything seems so futile. ?
I can't get rid of the entanglement in the world of mortals. Daydreaming all day is really a painful torture. In this scattered world of mortals, I forgot myself and the past, but I can't forget you. I wonder how strong I should be to forget those good memories you gave me. Maybe missing is a way. Once you are infected, you will become a strange self, but in the end, even if your heartache is unbearable, it is difficult to find the courage to quit this pain. In this rolling world of mortals, maybe everything is just a dream. When I really wake up one day, those so-called persistence are just self-deception lies, their exaggerated bravado, and nothing else. ?
Life is like a dream, a hundred years' life, but it is short in a flash. It's just that there are always many bumps to go. On this tortuous road of life, I wonder who my meeting will be and who will be the most beautiful ornament on my road of life. I've been looking for it, but so far it's fruitless. Maybe at a casual moment, looking back on the road I have traveled, maybe there are beautiful scenery on the way, which makes me linger, but I can't stop for it, because my dream is in the distance, where I can't reach it. ?
In a person's world, the surroundings are always so quiet, away from the noise of the world, brushing away the inner madness, and perceiving this strange and familiar world with a casual mood. Maybe at a certain moment, I suddenly found that the people and things I tried to forget really became forgotten in my obsession. Maybe I didn't think deeply enough, but in the rivers of these years, all persistence and waiting are so superficial. In the quiet memory, everything sinks with the memory. ?
Years of meat cleavers have blurred my face, and my vacant life is constantly being staged. I just hope to have a quiet life in the future to decorate my beautiful life. Let the wind and frost of the years dye my tenderness, and I will smile and recall the past. ?
Floating life is like a dream. When I wake up, everything is empty. There is no evidence of success or failure, and a smile on the sleeve once dreamed. ?
A kind of beauty is called giving up
Give up silently every time, give up a friend who has been in love for a long time but has no chance; Give up some investment but get nothing; Give up some spiritual expectation; Give up an idea. There will be a kind of sadness at this time, but this kind of sadness does not prevent us from starting over.
Listen to the music again in the new time and space; Tell the story again! Because this is a natural farewell and abandonment, full of detached spirit, because of the sad beauty!
There is a feeling that I hope it will last forever. It took many years to find that it had faded away. Later, I realized that what we hold in our hands is not necessarily what we really have, what we have and what we really remember! Then I understand that life often needs a pair of silent care and conscious giving up!
There are too many beautiful things and people in the world. We have been fighting for the beauty we don't have. In order to be busy, it often takes many years to understand what we really need and really want, and even we don't know what to do for the rest of our lives! For the beauty we already have, we are uneasy and worried because of the experiences we often get and lose.
The sigh of the sunset is easy to lose, and the troubles of flowers blooming and falling. Life is not satisfactory! Because when we have it, we may lose it, and when we give it up, we may regain it. We cannot be absolutely sure of everything. If you pay tribute to the pursuit of possession, it will be difficult to get out of the external things and then get out of yourself, and the involuntary sadness and sorrow for life will be even heavier!
Therefore, life needs to sublimate a quiet and transcendental spirit. Understand people know how to give up, sincere people know how to sacrifice, and happy people know how to be detached! After several years, we will be more satisfied when we know that the people we like are doing well! "I didn't come to this world because of you, but because you are more attached to this world. If I can be with you, I will walk away silently, but I still won't lose my love and gratitude for this world-thank God for letting me meet you and leave you, and finish a poem created by God! " Life has given us endless sorrow; It also gives us an eternal answer. So, I gave up safely and insisted on a detachment!
No matter how the world of mortals changes, no matter how individuals choose, no matter how heavy the things in our hands are, we are brave enough to escape, but we are sad and gratified!
Giving up is not flinching, but making another choice for a new goal. Life is to keep pursuing and at the same time keep giving up. As usual, we yearn for the depths of life. As usual, we are gradually giving up and becoming firm!
Jiu chun cha Qing
I like drinking, which may be one of my rare innate hobbies.
In the freezing winter, or the chilly early spring, or the extremely hot summer, in the late autumn when everything is bleak, it is inevitable to miss the hearty drinking.
Finally, I am looking forward to the Spring Festival, making friends with three or five friends, enjoying themselves and drinking wine to make them feel comfortable. A sumptuous table of dining tables, unless you "eat meat in chunks and drink in a big bowl", is not enough to show pride, unless you "fight a thousand bottles of wine, and the jade plate is worth ten thousand yuan", is not enough to show chivalry!
Every time I sit around the stove with my best friend, I always think of Li Bai's "Go Drinking" and try to create an atmosphere of "advising you to drink more".
I usually drink on holidays, so I won't get drunk. And every time I get drunk, it's because I'm sending my friends on a long trip, or when I'm about to wander alone in a foreign land. Once, I bid farewell to an old childhood friend and went to Harbin. I drank eleven cups of "draft beer" in a row; Once, when I returned to Shanghai that year, my good friend sent me a farewell dinner and unconsciously drank three bottles of spirits; But the worst time to drink was when my girlfriend went to Holland. At that time, I was quite similar to an alcoholic, and even I was afraid that I was no different from a white fairy. I'm just as dissolute, I'm singing about my life and youth!
When I was in college, Zhu Xiao and I lived in Xuanzhou, Anhui Province, and drank in a dirty bar. His understanding of Go and chess, as well as my fascination with bridge and prose poetry, are our favorite toasts, more like a big meal and wine side dishes. During the dinner, I swore by high five. After graduation, I must go to the place where Li Bai once traveled in Anhui. He promised to give up all fetters. Another time, it was a cabin in the stairwell of the school with fellow villagers. In the campus of Nuoda during the winter vacation, only we had a drink on New Year's Eve, and the oath of "casting swords for ten years" and "be there or be square" was in our hearts from this moment. However, the previous agreement has not been put into practice.
Like Li Bai's drunken improvisation poems, the occasions and moments when wine is in the wind and the moon is in the song are not frequent. Often a cup of green tea is placed on several tables and desks. With the fluctuation of light green and light yellow veins, thousands of moods evaporate in the cup, and a wisp of delicate fragrance diffuses in the room until there is a distant delicate fragrance between the nose and mouth of breathing, and the rhythm of heartbeat becomes slow and long.
If drinking is like singing, then the realm of tea tasting is particularly similar to poetry.
In my memory, the most enjoyable moment of drinking tea is the trip to Longjing Village in Hangzhou in the year of graduation. That morning, the clouds came out of the hole unintentionally, and suddenly it was cloudy. I hurried to find a humble teahouse and waited for the weather to clear up.
The distant mountains outside the window are hazy in the misty rain of Jiuxi, just like the black scarves of beautiful women in the ethereal world, suddenly far away and suddenly near. All I can see is that on the ridge of the field and on the roadside, the tea trees are pitching, the swaying leaves seem to be stretching their tentacles, and in the mist of rain, they are yellow beyond description. That wonderful color makes me unable to gently erase my touch with my hands.
When I am bored, I think of Bai Juyi and Su Shi and immerse myself in their praise of tea.
Bai Juyi's "After Meal" said: "Sleep after a meal and get two bowls of tea; Looking up at the shadow of the sun, the southwest slope has been restored. Happy people cherish the promotion of the day, and worried people hate the contribution of the year; People who have no worries and no happiness will have long and short careers. " In the poem, I wrote the interest of sleeping soundly after a meal, holding a tea bowl, being carefree and enjoying myself.
Su Shi's "Xijiang Moon" says: "Specially baked this year, the valley curtain has been a precious spring since ancient times, the snow buds have scattered in two wells, and the Miao people have come from Beiyuan. The soup is white, and even the floating flowers are light and round. Who dares to compete for beauty? " In a word, the spring water used for tea and tea making is praised to the fullest.
For a whole afternoon, although I didn't taste the best Lion Peak Longjing, the water for making tea was not the clear spring water of Tiger Run, nor was the tea set used in Yangxian (Yixing). My heart, brain, teeth and cheeks were fascinated by the beauty of tea.
After traveling abroad for a long time, I reunited with Shanghai after a long separation, and I can't remember how many times I drank wine and how many cups of tea.
Often when toasting and drinking with friends and relatives, they will indulge their pride with mellow wine. However, in the middle of the night after drinking, I often make a cup of Longjing to leave my thoughts alone and continue to wander, feeling clear and comfortable.
In spring, some words are forgotten (a few)
Time is a storyteller.
If time is just a legend, how can I describe it?
From the first day I opened my eyes, I began to observe the surroundings as an outsider, as if everything was around me, but I was willing to stand on the edge of the years and watch the dust drown me little by little until I turned to ashes.
My identity is an undisputed bystander, standing in the afterglow of the sunset, watching the light and shadow pass by and writing a new chapter.
Time is a storyteller, I said.
On a certain day, I tried my best to weave a story. From simple wedding, to middle age, and then to old age, I have many reasons to hide my emotions, although I also shed tears for these stories.
Yes, if time is just a storyteller, I only talk about the happiness, and those sad plots are forgotten in a casual moment.
If years deceive your eyes, will you start the next round of love in a mistake?
Waiting for the dawn in silence
The night wind whizzed past my ears, and I couldn't tell which direction it came from and which direction it went. The whistle is accompanied by shouts, like the killing bursts on the ancient battlefield, full of mystery.
To be exact, it was this gust of wind that woke me from my dream. In a dark room, the night left a beautiful dream for the dreamer, but I woke up next to the night and looked at the temptation of the night with glowing eyes.
The night makes the room look strange. When I looked up, I seemed to see the dawn. Day and night, the blink of an eye is so close at hand, no matter how you look out, you can't see the familiar back.
I saw the sand and stones flying outside the Great Wall, the misty and rainy terraces in the south of the Yangtze River, and the snow and ice on the grassland.
Maybe the dawn in the north and south of the river will wake up from my dream. I would rather wait for the dawn in the silence of the night. Because, before dawn, I can try my best to drive away the darkness one by one.
I like the waiting process.
Spring begins from this moment.
Spring, from now on.
The sunshine began to smile, bringing a bright day to the travelers. I thought it was the best weather for a long trip, but I forgot to bring the grass and green that were about to come out.
I want to see flying geese and swallows whispering among the beams, and I also hope that spring water will wake up Cangshan.
This is the charm of spring, from the moment the sun opens its eyes, from the singing of birds to the rustling of flowers, to the green and purples of the mountains.
I am familiar with the trajectory of walking in spring, just like seeing another self, stepping on the morning sunshine and playing with the birds in the tree.
Spring, from this moment on. In winter, we are walking away step by step. ...
Twilight city
At the end of the day, Baiyun piles up self-righteous happiness, as if announcing that this is its own territory.
Under the sky, someone raised his head and threw down a series of curses. His front and back were surrounded by dark clouds, but at this time the clouds on the horizon changed color. He is puzzled. Is it his fault or the cloud's fault?
Perhaps, things in the world are difficult to explain, and sometimes you need to change colors to match your mood.
Just like a river flowing through the city, there are different scenery on both sides. Grass flies on this shore, and the sky is full of sunset. On the other side, flying sand and stones, gloomy and gloomy, their wonderful performances were staged in it.
From then on, you and I heard a legendary story and sighed.
After all, this is a city that people talk about. People call it dusk.
It is said that everyone in the city has a memory. Whether it is wonderful or not, everyone's life is written.
◎ Eyes of the night
A gust of wind from the stranger blew off the tiles on the roof and the desk lamp in the corner. In an instant, the dust becomes dusty.
Night, full of mystery, came into my sight with the cold outside the Great Wall. I want to touch the character of the night, but I feel the frost, just like a person's eyes.
Where did this look enter my heart? Maybe I don't know. I like the glare of my relatives, the sharp eyes of strangers like knives, and the question mark painted yesterday ... It feels so far away and strange, as if I were separated from heaven forever.
If there was a story every time I blinked, I would never open that door. Since all the nights are hidden with little-known legends, I'd rather this legend never be known.
Or on a dark night, the flute came from a stranger, and a person held his breath and listened quietly.
Although I can't know the will expressed in it, and I can't accurately describe the past joys and sorrows, I am sure that I am listening carefully.
Rumors.
In fact, I don't like to pry into other people's anecdotes, but these things are blowing hard in my ear and I can't do without listening.
Just like this moment, I heard someone say: there is a pie in the sky.
I smiled. I am indifferent to such gossip, although it sometimes involves me, but I am sure that these gossip will not leave a trace on me.
I talk to God and talk about some forgotten topics, for example, why does God always have disasters? Why can't the weather be good? Why do you always get sick and die? ..... The sky flies over an eagle, and the sky doesn't allow us to be smooth sailing, always stirring the tranquility of the sky.
A lot of gossip is an after-dinner pastime, which is not worthy of attention.
Before I left the sky, I fixed my eyes on the eagle flying across the sky. It is the master of the sky and has enough mind to accommodate the injustice of the world.
How unfair it is not to allow me to make a voice of dissatisfaction.
Well, consider me an eagle, as calm as the sky.
Remember and forget.
I have never met before, but I am willing to leave my most beautiful face as a souvenir.
Remember and forget, never met, but remember each other's names in the storm of years, remember the past and the past. Just like yesterday and today, living under the same roof.
I forgot it on purpose, but I accidentally remembered it one night.
I deliberately remember, on a spring morning, I can't remember it once.
However, the years are dormant in a corner, remembering everything except winter, including the powerful cry of Shaanxi opera.
◎ heating under the same roof
On a cold night, I played a song against the cold wind outside the window.
I don't know if this song touched me or inadvertently touched the heartstrings of the wind. Outside the window, a soft whistle sounded, like a serenade and ballad that my mother hummed gently.
I don't know how many people are listening, how many people understand the meaning and how many people care about the past of such a night.
Being warm under the same roof, but not knowing the full meaning of warmth in life; I can't figure out who the tears of people who have gone away for a living are for.
Think of me as the master under this roof, and light a lamp for the people who go home in the dark night.
Cold and hard.
Some people say that no matter how hot the chest is, it is neither hot nor cold.
I can't comment on this statement.
This statement is not new today, and it is by no means the last one. From the day when there was a calendar, ancient civilizations learned to look on coldly, and also learned to lie and deceive people. Just like a sentence Yin Susu told Zhang Wuji before she died in Jin Yong's novel "The Dragon Slayer by Eternal Adversity": The more beautiful a woman is, the more she will cheat.
I saw the angry flame burning to the roof in an instant, and instantly ignited the vast grassland.
Warm into it and appreciate each other with the fire. I want to get close, but I can't take back my long-term gaze.
Perhaps years can easily touch sensitive and fragile nerves, but under the cold and hard shell, soft hearts can't be hidden, just like those distant memories, which always become the most beautiful scenery in my eyes when I suddenly look back.
A story
The most beautiful story in my heart must be this: he and she, young and naive, grew up together, without wind and rain, without great sorrow and joy, only lived in peace day after day until they were white-haired.
The beginning of the story is really dull. I listened to them seriously, because all the young people in the world are full of longing for life. It seems that such a story is not very attractive, like white water, tasteless, and the joys and sorrows of the world are not among them.
On a sunny afternoon, I was full of doubts about such love. If all love in the world is like white water, what is the taste of love? What's the smell of pain? Can people become insensitive? And what should the most beautiful love look like?
The afternoon sunshine is all around, as if looking for the answer to a question. Light and shadow string the worries of a place into layers of questions.
Sunshine knows everyone's story, and writes down dullness in every light and shadow it casts. Unfortunately, no one has ever mentioned it.
◎ Among them, outside.
Standing at the window and looking at the people outside is like watching an old movie. Everyone repeats everything yesterday like a puppet, but the manipulator is not others.
Vendors or pawns, what you did today, come back tomorrow. What you didn't do yesterday will be done today, just for one goal.
Of course, there were accidents. Like birth and death.
Looking back suddenly, at a certain moment, everything that was different once had mixed feelings. I thought I could stay out of it, but I came back step by step.
The sky is still the same blue and the sun is still the same warm.
Being in it and being out of it.
In spring, some words are forgotten.
Before the arrival of spring, I memorized some words, such as: all the wind and smoke are clean and the still water is deep.
These words, like a gust of wind, passed by me, familiar but strange. Maybe what you remember is just deliberate, even if you remember, you won't leave many traces, such as ripples on the river, which are fleeting.
Some words are too high, too abstruse and contain too much Zen. Even from spring to winter, I will never stop walking and practicing in the long river of time, and I will never reach the height of Buddhism.
The Buddha looked at me and said with a smile: forget what should be forgotten and remember what should be remembered.
Look at these words again, it's still as strange as before, but I'm a little tired, so I put down my book.
At this moment, I don't remember that some words have been forgotten, just like forgetting the distance between life and death.
Poetic winter
Winter gives people a cold feeling, so most people have no feeling about winter; But we must never think that winter is really like that. On the contrary, I think winter is a poetic world.
Standing under the bitter plum tree, I inadvertently whispered, "The sword edge comes from sharpening, and the plum blossom fragrance comes from bitter cold." In this clean and white world, in this sentimental season, all I can think of is the artistic beauty of the poem written by the poet at that time. However, I seem to be a poet, immersed in this world, immersed in this season; Because I have integrated into her bone marrow, and I cherish each other very much. So we can easily find that winter is still beautiful, especially when we are alone in this poetic season.
I have an unusual feeling for winter since I was a child, so I have always had such a yearning for her. Whenever it snows, I can't help running out, because I can't control my inner excitement at this moment; Looking for my share of happiness. Looking at the snowflakes flying all over the sky, I fantasize that one day, I can get along with them and we can sing together in this poetic season.
That innocence and that frankness are her true portrayal. She is like a pair of invisible big hands holding us all the time and selflessly sending her warmth to those in need. We no longer feel cold in this season, so we can linger on this poetic day. Only in this way can we show ourselves. We are no longer empty, we are no longer lonely, because there is love here, and love is this poetic winter.
Look, the snow is falling outside the window; Listen to the sound of sunset snow in Qian Shan. It seems that we are immersed in this winter and infatuated with this season and this poetic world. She is so serene, she is so crystal clear, with beautiful artistic conception and intoxicating scenery, as if we belong to this world, this poetic fairy tale.
Standing on the ice sheet of the river bed, communicate with her heart to heart; This kind of broadmindedness, this kind of nature, is so elegant and free from vulgarity. She seems to be like an elf who fell into the mortal world, giving people a kind feeling; For us, there is no chill, the baptism of the soul, the yearning for dreams, giving people a kind of elegance.
She is not like a flower in spring, nor a green flower in summer, nor a fruitful autumn; But what she has is a calm and intelligent beauty. In this poetic season, there is no selfishness and negativity, but more a combination of romance and art. Think of us and the people we love holding hands with each other, looking up at the stars in the sky under that plum tree in this white world and making our vows of love. Isn't this romantic? I think this is the most romantic moment in life, because the god of love wakes up at this moment. This is a natural environment, a paradise; This is a poetic season. You have me and I have you.
In this sentimental season, listening to Vae's Canxue is a kind of enjoyment and a yearning for nature. Think about it, in this poetic season, we sing the vows of love to our heart's content. I think this is a kind of beauty, an indifferent life.
The hustle and bustle of the city and colorful life have no pursuit and no future. In fact, winter is the most beautiful and exciting season. In this season, we are full of vitality and youth; We have our own beautiful pursuit, we are no longer silent, we are no longer depressed, we want to live our own wonderful life.
"misty rain dream" in Jiangnan
The scenery in Jiangnan is very beautiful, and the picturesque scenery has long been familiar. When spring comes, the sun rises from the river, the flowers on the river are brighter than red, and the green river is greener than the blue grass. How can we make people not miss Jiangnan?
-inscription
Since ancient times, how many talented people and beautiful women have been infatuated with this misty and rainy south of the Yangtze River, and how many literati have attached their feelings to this dream of spring. Write poems for her to express her feelings.
I'm drunk. I'm really drunk. I seem to have crossed that era and slept for thousands of years. In that misty and rainy spring, holding an oil-paper umbrella and holding a woman's hand, both of them strolled on the willow embankment of the West Lake. Watching people coming and going inside and outside Xizi Lake, listening to the continuous erhu music and tasting the fragrant West Lake Longjing tea, I was drunk, drunk and unwilling to wake up for a long time.
The drizzle, the dream of spring, how many people she intoxicated! How many people shed tears for her How many people are not obsessed with this snow-like gentleness? At this time, we hugged each other and walked into this spring dream. In this ancient city with thousands of years of antiques, there is only tenderness and some is infatuation. Look at the rows of houses with blue tiles on both sides of the street. They are so beautiful. She is like a beauty who has just taken a bath. The beauty of floating dust is so tempting. How can I not be emotional for her? Can I not be intoxicated? Listen, the elegant piano has been singing in my ear for a long time, picturesque.
Walking in this quaint alley is simply a pleasure. The sound of feet colliding with bluestone is like a beautiful Jiangnan woman playing and singing with a pipa in her hand. How beautiful! Smelling it, the smell of wine wafted from the east side of the alley, and my mouth kept watering. At this time, I am like a beggar who has not smelled the fragrance for many years. I was deeply attracted and couldn't wait to run to the east of the alley.
"Serve wine, Xiao Er," I said. It seems that I am a few years younger to taste such wine. If this is manna, then secular wine is swill. Life is like this, and I am intoxicated here. Thousands of years of wine culture and dreams, how many literati can't stay here!
During festivals, the streets for miles on the street are brightly lit and filled with festive atmosphere everywhere. Can this not touch those wanderers who have left their homes? Now they are reluctant to leave here and have long regarded it as his second hometown. Every street here is full of a special feeling, so that people who come here don't want to leave her, but who doesn't remember Jiangnan when they go back?
Living here is my childhood dream, no matter what it is, it may be that I have a feeling for her that I can't give up! Some people say that I am from Jiangnan, and I am better than Jiangnan.
I remember a few years ago, I came to Hangzhou because the college entrance examination was not ideal, so I came to Jiangnan. I came with a sense of loss at that time, but she didn't leave me because of it. Instead, she touched me with her true feelings. I still remember clearly that I lived here for two months and eight days. I've been talking to her for days. She didn't show any impatience, but listened patiently and silently to my complaints. Finally, with her help, I gradually got out of that shadow, and I regained my fighting spirit and started over.
It's not just beautiful scenery here, the people here are more beautiful. Later, I really could not bear to leave her, leaving every piece of land here.
That day, I cried and cried very sadly. I finally left, but I was not happy at all. Because this is a misty and rainy dream in Jiangnan, I will always remember her in my heart.