5 Lotus of Summer Nights
It was night, and I had this dream:
I became a quick-witted novice poet. After pulling out a plain white juan and writing a line of poems on it that satisfied him, time and space suddenly changed, and the scene changed into a street containing classical architectural complexes of Qin bricks and Han tiles. Wandering among them, I was in the crowd of people who could not see its appearance in any way, and heard a beautiful song.
The song is clear and melodious, singing three sighs, unprecedented.
It's almost like experiencing a legend like listening to xianle.
As I lingered for this reason, I tried to memorize the melody while following the prestige to find out who was singing this extraordinary song.
I saw that the song was coming from the middle part of a tall building a few "thoughts" in front of me.
I was glad that I was comforted by the wonderful singing, and suddenly I was placed in the downtown streets of a modern city by a sudden scene. Surrounded by fragments of newspapers scattered from the air, familiar or unfamiliar faces. And I was at a loss for some uncertain goal.
I had to talk with a middle-aged man with a rather familiar face who came from the vast sea of people nearby: "Hello, do you know where this is?" โ
The middle-aged man answered, looking at his lips twitching, but could not hear what he was saying.
"Do you know when I came here?" You should have come here before me. โ
I asked again.
"You've been here before," I finally heard his answer, "and everyone who has been here has been here." โ
"Then you know what I'm looking for?" I wanted to find something, but I forgot what it was. I continued.
The corners of his raised mouth smiled slightly, and he said frankly, "When you find it, you will know." โ
After saying this, he walked toward the crowd and disappeared into the vast sea of people.
I think that is his choice and destination. At this time, what I was unhappy about was the song I had not been able to listen to in my previous dream. There is no way to know who the singer is, which means that the song is missed.
Rare encounters, and losses, can not be filled
At this time, another "strange old man" appeared without warning.
It was a girl with curly hair just coming out of the door of a woodware shop on the street. Twenty-five or six years old, maybe in his early thirties, holding a rolled-up scroll in his arms, wearing a plain antique dress, a slender figure walking forward, taking a clever and clever gait.
I say strange because of all the people I know who can relate to costumes. So it's pretty certain that this girl isn't someone I've ever seen in real life. Another point that proves that it is a dream at this time is that no matter how hard you try, you can't see the girl's face. It seemed to be opposite to her curtain, and there was no separation. I think she may not be very pretty.
As for why she suddenly appeared, although I had thought about it, I had no way of knowing.
However, at the same time, a warmth called "real" rising from the surface of the surging heart lake gives people a pleasant experience, like a budding lotus flower quietly rising to the water on a warm summer night, throbbing with the emotions in my dreams, sighing a thousand times, and trance realizing that this is a dream.
I still remember the gentleness of the summer night in my dream, just like the dialogue between the people who descend the mountain and the mountain flowers.
At this time, I was asleep, but I did not realize that the bright moonlight in the real time and space was climbing on the top of the bamboo forest, as if to show the next ideal.
I once had the illusion of innocence, but I didn't expect to meet the past today.
