Ink

The River of Time is rippling, the willow branches on the riverside float with memory, the air is filled with the fragrance of osmanthus, facing the river bank, facing the life near the Sunset, facing the scenery passing all the way and the road extending under the feet, unwittingly, the rising and falling of the tide in my heart sang: what a quiet afternoon, the poetic ink and ink swam in my heart, and I enjoyed myself under the sunshine tree. I am extremely simple in my life, so simple that I don’t have a dime in my pocket, so simple that I have 2.1 lines, and so simple that there is no one worthy of letting me pour my life or do whatever I want, and it is because of this, life is strong in selflessness and no desire. If you want to sing, you can sing, you want to sit, or you can do nothing, that is, the so-called sweeping response and letting nature take its course. I have been used to this kind of life for a long time. A book, a cup of tea and the bright moonlight in front of the window alone sit in the dim woods, singing scriptures and poems, and sigh with joy and joy. Yes, time flies like an arrow. In 30 years, it changes the world. The memories and fragments of life passing by are as clear, clear, deep and sorrowful as the moonlight and flowers in the Spring River written by Zhang Ruoxu. Last night, the small building and the East Wind night, life stood in the years when the water was exhausted and occasionally looked around, and found that all the vegetation hills, ravines and fields had been different, only the maple leaves standing in front of the window are burning red in the autumn day year after year, year after year, only Begonia is still waiting for faith, and the bottom of my heart is safe and quiet, and with the swaying wind, I bow my head to my hometown. Usually at such a moment, I was attracted by bees and butterflies in my heart. The eight-Chi Cave Flute sounded leisurely, like sobbing and complaining. An antique long axis was wantonly permeated in the dusk, which made my pen and ink beautiful and my life happy. A string of familiar names in the notes came lightly from the winding road of history: Chen Ziang, Li Yishan, Liu sanbian, du Zimei, Ouyang Zi who was drunk by mountains and rivers, and Liu Rushi who was both talented and beautiful, yun Niang and Dong Xiaowan came in a hurry and became my uninvited guests. They sat or waited, played the piano, talked, or poured and drank. In an instant, the chamber was fragrant and their life was smooth. A Song of high mountains and flowing water lasts for a long time, a song of plum blossom, three lanes and Uncle night’s Guangling scattered joyfully and loudly, putting the soul into the bamboo forest pasture, the Frontier outside the Great Wall, what a charming scenery! He drove the boat left by Su Zi in Chibi to search for the ancient battlefield where the golden Gobi horses and horses swallowed thousands of miles like tigers, and his soul went through every step, Leaving high mountains and long waters to let life wander along the river to see the scenery of the North. Thousands of miles of ice, life came to Beethoven’s hometown again, where there was a wine workshop brewed by Rhine River, and the music was melodious in the wine workshop, humorous music, humorous music, sonatas, fantasy music, mini-step dance music, as well as sonatas, Flexo, slow board, Allegro, one song after another. I sat there quietly and saw Goethe, Liszt, Chopin, Mozart, Haydn, Holderlin, Rilke, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche. They were all high-spirited and bookish, but occasionally disdain and rebellion, conceit and anger will appear in the eyes. Their language is either arrogant, sad, or like falling flowers. Their fingers are as slender as scallion tubes and as delicate as orchid, but they are all well-trained swordsmen when dancing. They break through the five passes and kill six generals. They are heroes and heroic! I like this scene, this scenery and more poetic. Sunset at dusk, starry sky, a glass of Blue Devils or whisky, drunk Time, woke up the soul! Of course, the poetry of pen and ink also flows into the river with the meaning of chest! I went to the west tower alone without words and saw the end of the world. It was the most open and favorite place in my life, because it could not only decorate other people’s dreams, but also beautiful the lingering in my heart, the poetry of pen and ink at once. If I belong to art in the foundation of life, then there is no doubt that my soul belongs to pen and ink. Otherwise, how can I not help burning smoke and boiling words in my life, and how can I be willing to be lonely and lonely? In the mountain roads and life scenery I have traveled one after another, I will not miss the lively scenes, let alone participate in them. What I admire and appreciate is always the silent world brought by pen and ink, because only there can my life and soul be quiet, released, joyful and joyous! The reason why my life is so simple, my life is so clean, and my soul is so transparent, is not that I get it by following the circumstances, but that I have been prepared at the beginning of my life. When I chose the ocean, my heart naturally had to sail with the waves, and the Spirit naturally had to soar with the flying birds and explore far away with the rhythm of the waves, patrol the diving place of the tank Nick which I am fascinated by, whether it is a beautiful paradise or the romantic garden of Eden, I admit that I can’t catch the breath of life, nor can Beethoven clamp the throat of life to create a solemn heroic symphony, nor can he write shocking works like George Orwell. However, it is combined with the poetic style of ink and ink, it can make my life have more hopes and hopes, and it is my greatest wish in my life to get peace and happiness for this. I dare not say that the cultivation and retreat of these years have given me a new life, but I dare say that due to the moistening and feeding of pen and ink, my soul has been calm and calm in quietness. In my lifetime, I don’t expect to be surrounded by wine luminous cups, which is not what I want. Plain as water is true. Yes, I will never forget the simple life of picking chrysanthemum in the East fence and ploughing Nanyang. As the saying goes, Danbo Mingzhi is quiet and far away, and it will always be the scenery that cannot fade in my life! If life lives like this and ends up for it, it can be regarded as a kind of grace and God gift. In my opinion, there is no better poetic life than managing my own life, arranging life and time, cultivating independent thoughts and free spirit. The reason why I am so determined and willing to be lonely, plain and simple is not because I don’t have seven emotions and six desires, children and parents, fame and wealth, and worldly wisdom in my life, it is because of the long-term combination of soul and ink poetry. I also know that the happiness gained by life and vulgarity being in harmony, and the soul and the secular world going with the flow is naturally much more than a person’s happiness. However, the teachings of the dead, like the husband, often overflow in his heart day and night, this forced me to listen to my inner voice, which was small but powerful. Frankly speaking, for more than thirty years, I have not failed to live up to the giving of time, nor to the sweat I have paid. Although simple life has made me lose a lot of flowers and plants, I do not regret that I have grown into a forest today, even for this complacency. Looking at the chapters flowing out of the pen and ink, looking at the life full of vitality, the soul reveals not only singing, but also the brilliance and joy like flowers and starry sky! Like (prose editor: drops of ink become wounds) the snow in spring Spring elimination snow, multi-the yao nian, unspoken. Reading from afar, it is just above that snowfield. The snow is really beautiful, after all it is spring… Waiting Waiting is a kind of persistence, sticking to a certain belief and never giving up. Maybe because of a certain commitment, or because of a certain… Be good at listening to different voices and opinions On October 6th, I published a travel essay: “beautiful autumn scenery”, which was obtained by many literary websites… Read The Bridges of Madison County “When the white moth spreads its wings, you can come to me at any time”. I think, if I am a man, be accepted… From today on, I want to be happy I read “the biography of Hulan River” long time ago, and I remember that I was really in a heavy mood for a long time. Which characters caused me… Sick time I sneezed one after another these days. I said someone was reading me and others said I was sick. Finally, the doctor also said I was…

Home has

I got up from my dream and looked at the electronic clock. At 8:30, I was in a panic. I hurried to change my clothes. I didn’t know if there was a phone call to urge me. I picked up my mobile phone and several big words of Saturday were on the screen. Oh, I was stunned for a while. Is day off. Fluttering back to bed, fluttering back to dream, where was I am just now? It seems that somewhere in my hometown, I tried my best to restore and squeeze into the world I just walked out. Although the world is as dim, gloomy and fearful as before. It was on my way out of school, a windy afternoon, the rain came from the front, which made me suffocated and could not open my eyes. The doors and windows of every household nearby were locked, and I didn’t intend to disturb them either. I just want to walk through the rain, through the wind and find my home. Maybe that’s just a kind of stubbornness for me to compete with others. I can’t express it. Sometimes I also seriously fall into a long thought. I stroked my family one by one, and even my dead grandma was aroused from the grave by me. The dead are sober. The alternation of life and death not only makes the living people feel that life and death are alive, but also gives the dead the honor and peace they never had before, before his death, all the complaints about others and himself were deeply buried in the soil, and the paper money floating on the tomb every year seemed to tell every living person passing by that the dead actually lived in the hearts of their relatives forever. I touched grandma’s hand. Her hands were as slender and dry as before, and those bulging veins on the back of her hands disappeared. Her hair was still tied behind her head without any confusion. A few silver hairpins that were inserted in the bun were given to me before she left. Now she uses a black hair net. Grandma used to be a landlady. She remained dignified and elegant until she died. She looked solemn and calm, as if she was going to attend some ceremony, which made my heart confused. I think grandma is going to die or give birth? Did grandma become a landlord again when she arrived there? Over there, the torture and pain brought by the movements she had experienced in the world would never reappear. From then on, she would always look at her relatives and younger generations in a dignified manner, the only thing that was the same as before was her silence, which would be the eternal freeze. This thought made me look down on her, and the resentment that she didn’t like me, the first granddaughter in her life vanished at this moment. I saw her off with tears. At this moment, she was still silent to me, and her eyes were the kindness she had never seen before. Death is sometimes a good thing, but the living world can not easily feel the warmth and understanding given by the dead. When I saw the word nirvana before, I always thought it was the patent of Buddhism, but at this time, I deeply disagreed that everyone could Nirvana. When dying, euthanasia would lead to detachment, which was also a Nirvana. And father uttered not a. He never made any summary and arrangement for his whole life. He cleaned his yard and watered the flowers invariably every day. No matter in spring, summer, autumn and winter, he sprayed all the green plants in the yard with a long water pipe. The plants enjoying the water were blooming happily, xi gan’s plants became more and more depressed, but they couldn’t protest, so they had to stick to the correct way of living by dying. After finishing these, my father leaned on his chair, reading while making marks. I turned over my father’s book, and he circled countless sentences. In my opinion, the sentences were extremely simple, but my father drew horizontal lines below, some of which were still two horizontal lines. I think this is not what he wanted to say happened to be told by others, or a word touched his mind, reminding him of a deep past? When mother was too busy to come, she would ask father to do some housework. Father listened and said nothing about it. He glanced at mother, then returned to his book or continued to nap. When his mother got angry, he slowly stood up and did it silently. I am don’t do housework. The words my father often said when he was young had already been swallowed up by the years. Seeds are buried deep in the soil, and the soil is dried by the annual rings without nutrients. It is no longer important whether there are seeds or not, and the surface is desolate, spacious and distant. In the year I left, those camphora trees were deeply rooted and luxuriant, and the wide crown blocked the burning sun. I sat under the shady tree for a long time. When a gust of wind blew, I heard the leaves and branches laughing briskly. I also smiled in a trance. When the wind passed, what did I want to say to the tree? The smell of the fragrant tree came over, and I forgot what I wanted to say. I just sucked the fragrance desperately, sucked into the lungs can not relieve hatred. A little ant climbed on my instep when I didn’t know. I pushed it to the ground. It turned over and stumbled, then climbed up, changed direction and climbed towards the root of the tree. The tree root should be its safe home. A plastic bag was beating Xuan er on the ground, and I watched it being scraped onto the branch blankly like a soul-calling flag hanging there, waving hurriedly to another place, gradually, it is too far to be seen. Spring elimination snow Spring elimination snow, multi-the yao nian, unspoken. Reading from afar, it is just above that snowfield. The snow is really beautiful, after all it is spring… Waiting Waiting is a kind of persistence, sticking to a certain belief and never giving up. Maybe because of a certain commitment, or because of a certain… Be good at listening to different voices and opinions On October 6th, I published a travel essay: “beautiful autumn scenery”, which was obtained by many literary websites… Read The Bridges of Madison County “When the white moth spreads its wings, you can come to me at any time”. I think, if I am a man, be accepted… From today on, I want to be happy I read “the biography of Hulan River” long time ago, and I remember that I was really in a heavy mood for a long time. Which characters caused me… Sick time I sneezed one after another these days. I said someone was reading me and others said I was sick. Finally, the doctor also said I was…