Look at the sea, for the first time, at the age of eighteen. The young and thin face, the ancient and vast sea, throbbed, so sad, so silently lay on the eighteen-year-old seashore. Blue, clear, the sea may be the last tear of the earth. The sea was really quiet that day, and one rolling snow wave was quickly swallowed up silently by another snow wave. The sudden influx of the tide made me understand the meaning of harnessing youth at once.
Loved the sea, boundless, endless, flawless. I wanted to shout at the sea clouds, I wanted to run after the waves. The sea is connected to the dream, and my dream with the sea is always so wide; the sea and the heart are connected, and my mind with the sea is always so deep. Every sea cloud will be written into my poems, and every drop of sea water will flow into my eyes.
The sea cannot produce colorful flowers, so the heavens plant the waves in the sea. There is no flower in the world that can be compared with the waves, every moment, spinning and falling, not withering all year round, the sky is desolate. The emptiness came, the roaring away, the huge appearance, the magnificent momentum, shocked the eyes, the heart.
Exposed, submerged, exposed again, submerged again, the reef is the prop of the sea. The sea is in a vast layout, but also in the sense of the vast, with short reefs dotted with huge vicissitudes. Invisible water, tangible stone, restores the truth of truth in the invisible form. To meet a reef is to meet a sharp, a sharpness hidden deep in the vastness. Walking through the desolation outside the vitality, walking through the vitality in the desolation, only a picture of the reef constantly chasing the blue is left.
The reef above the surface of the water is not afraid of the wind and waves, always so brave, but so lonely, away from the sun and the moon, away from the warmth, away from the crowds. Never again can go out of the sea, can no longer walk lonely, only to be the rest of the seabirds flying, only to be the road sign of the night voyage of the boat. Thousands of years have passed, and the abrupt reef still stands on the vast sea, or stands in the silent years.
If you want to be beautiful, go to see the willow moon; if you want to be magnificent, go to see the seaside moon. Connecting the moon with the sea is both graceful and imposing. The endless moonlight gently poured down, covering the whole sea, clear and quiet; the boundless sea gladly flooded with clear waves, setting off a round of bright moon, dark blue, far away. The moon and the sea will always go with each other, just as you and I will always go with each other.
All the keys of the piano are sounding towards the sea, and sorrow and joy intersect, and affection blends. Staring and listening, every note will jump with the waves. A ray of sunlight gently filled, a sea water flowed quietly, and through the sound of the piano I saw the beautiful posture of the sea and the direction of the future.
A golden dusk, a clear sea. I walked barefoot on the beach, carrying a few brilliant sunset flowers on my shoulders. When the little waves came, I couldn't help but open all my pores and delicately dote on this deep green water. While sucking in the monotonous and repetitive silence of the sea and sky, I watched the moonlight fill the gap in my soul. I continued toward the beach, giving a soul that would eventually wither infinitely close to the vast and deep sea.
Look forward to such a scene: the seaside, dusk, two shadows walking side by side. The sunset emits brilliant colors, reflecting the sea, reflecting you and me. Your words dispel the haze, and your smile sows joy. I really want to thank the grace of this reunion, so that the desolation of one person has become the greenery of two people.
As long as the heart has the original intention, life has a continuous meaning. Our hearts trump everything. The most unstoppable thing is not the surging sea in front of us, but the indomitable progress of our hearts. Please put all your likes in an upward looking angle, please put all your understanding in a quiet heart.
The yearning for the sea may be a matter for young people, and the sea is always related to passion and romance. I have been to the sea, I have loved the sea, if I look at the sea now, I feel that one loneliness has added another loneliness. The sea is tempting, the blue color, the fishy smell, and the majestic momentum of the race. Having been vigorous, having been mysterious, I suddenly felt that I was very old, too old to look at the sea again, too old to look at the sea again.
The sea is old man's, because the experience and mind of the sea are too much like an old man. After seeing the sea, walking through the sea, the sea will be bigger, and the old people will be older. The waves are higher than the seabirds, the water and the sky are beautiful, a group of stars have lit up, and a soul is flying. The four seasons are flowing, the four seasons are churning, and the old man stretches out two craggy arms to embrace the wide sea.