The love of the river is the boat

The love of the river is a boat, carrying heavy love, sailing to the far side. Go to find the sea, stretching repeatedly, down the river, entrenched between the lofty mountains. Those who follow the river must go up against the current, to conquer the sea, to conquer the river, to realize their dreams.

Whose youth does not experience the turbulence of the rivers and seas, will grow, experience the pain of wind and rain, and find their own value. Half a life adrift, like a flat leaf boat, riding the wind and waves, just to find their own harbor.

The port is bustling with people, who will wait quietly at the shore, just to live up to this turbulent wind and frost. The steaming bowl seems to boil the whole river water and soak up the taste of life.

The blue of a day often turns into the depth of a river, and life is so profound that it will not be easy to understand. In the midst of suffering is a person with a wide open heart, a small stomach, but he has tasted the bitterness of the world.

Only the turbulence of the river knows the vastness of my heart, and only the swimming fish in the river have true freedom. The parrot that has lost its freedom can only learn the tone of a human voice to cry sadly there, and the human who pretends not to hear the crying is unwilling to repay its freedom.

Above the vast expanse of the earth, there was a vast sky, wings under the sky, contracting, fantasizing about when it would be possible to fly over the largest ocean.

It's not always going to be a dream, right? One day it will be realized, the river and the sea have the language of the river and the sea, the sky has the language of the sky, the life that has sunk under the sea for ten thousand years, silently waiting, in the future one day, can personally speak! In the midst of the vibrations, the heavens and the earth tilt for it, and the human world changes for this reason.

The wind was off course, and the wind was blowing hard. But he could not let the man at the helm turn, and by the power of the wind, he marched faster, unable to hear the call from the shore. He seemed to be tightly attached to the river, and even had merged into one.

As long as the river does not stop, he will never stay. How many amorous tears have you left behind, so that those who have not been able to save you are in love with the beauty of their own. Now Nami may have relied on a foreign land, like a spring vine, clinging to its own branches and growing hard.

This river will be like a trickle of nourishment, feeding you more lazily snuggled up to the slanting sun, leaving a few lines of praise, and a few years later, when you read it by chance, you will always be grateful for this river. This river has washed the memories away, and your color is still as bright as it was at the beginning!

Winter, turned into a cold current drifting with the river, the sky in the southern country is warmer, the sea is wider, and there is more spring. The fish bid farewell to their hometown and were wantonly sold for food on the street.

Since ancient times, he has left home and become a, without relatives, without love, without pity! Waiting for discussion, confusing people. Love is as deep as a river, but when it flows, it is speechless. Near the shore, sad people say goodbye.

The causes and conditions of the rivers and mountains are bound into a book, imitating the sinister and strange ways of the world, and the mirage between the mirages, it is difficult to judge the true and false. Full of golden wine, sprinkled with lights in the night, when brilliant, it is rare to see it in life! In the old days, he stayed by the bridge, but now the times have moved and changed the world.

The roundness of a pebble, the vicissitudes of the sea, just like the scars of the past, after years of tempering, finally no longer hurt the heart. The waves of the rolling season stir up a cavity of enthusiasm, leaving no residual warmth, grinding the blade of time.

Let the sharp blade, sharpen the knife, hurt people wantonly, often have pain, but around the heart... There are still lonely souls in the rivers and lakes, drifting away from the turbulence, and there is no place for tranquility. Although the rivers and lakes are wonderful, there are not ignorant lights, hangovers on the other side.

When it is deep, it does not see the coral amber at the bottom of the river, and when it is shallow, it does not see the green lotus on the river surface, and it is leisurely, and arrogant, and it flows away. The rope of the porter has been ruthlessly cut off by the blade of history, and the passenger ship of the merchant can no longer be exiled all night, and this water, this river, the story of the stretch, is still so long.

-Author-

Pen name: Nothing more than, a native of Yibin, Sichuan, a lonely walker who likes to record his life and feelings with words. Once dreamed of being a great writer, now, forced by life, is only humble with words and walk together.

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The warmth of winter, the years are quiet

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