Text 丨Beilin passerby
Anchor 丨 branding
This shore, the other shore, was just separated by a curtain, and we can never work together...
I stood in the March wind, looking across the shore. The distant mountains on the other shore contain Dai, the flowers and shadows flutter, the grass on the other shore is green, and the flowing water is clinging to it.
You are the scenery on the other side, just separated by a stream of water, and I can only look at it from a distance.
The butterflies, flying back and forth in the March wind, like flowers, blooming haphazardly in the grass on this shore and on the other shore, but I could not reach the other shore.
The other shore is not far away, but we have been standing on the shore and looking out. The wind that blows across the embankment blows through your and my memories. There is no beginning, no end. Through the branches of the flowers, I see my loneliness melting in your landscape.
Used to looking at you quietly through time and space, imagining you, watching your gentle pain when the March flowers bloom, watching your butterflies fly when they are stoic.
The wind, coming and going, drifts from shore to shore, and I believe that there is your warmth and your breath in the wind.
You don't wade into the water, you're afraid of disturbing my tiring journey, and I don't have the courage to cross the river, and I'm afraid that the scenery that comes closer will lose its original appearance.
We are all constantly rushing, constantly grinding and struggling in hope and pursuit, constantly wandering in loneliness and pain. After walking through many landscapes, when I look back, you are still smiling happily at me on the other side.
I am only a willow on the other side of you, you are only the embankment that I can see, I cannot grow in your arms, how can you accept my scarred, tired body?
Perhaps, I am just a distant landscape in your eyes, and when the flowers fall, you can see the sadness of my place, and how can you understand the obsession of my heart.
I can wade away, but I can't wade through your lonely heart lake, and I can't guess whether you're waiting on the shore like me, indulging in reverie, and looking away.
The scenery on the other side is only separated by a line of water, but it is a distance that I do not know how to measure. The lonely heart is only separated by a person, but it is also separated by a space that I cannot touch.
We spend too much time staring at each other, guessing each other, and happiness is tossing and turning in the fantasy youth, how much time can we expect, extravagant, and confused in our lives?
I would like to say that I have been waiting for you here, even though you are my drifting dream and unreachable shore. Although, here I am, the flowers are gone, and the land is sad; there are you, the flowers are enchanting, and the wind is chasing the clouds.
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