Letter to Spring
Author/Wang Xinglin
Recitation/Wang Xiaoyin
Whoever led a breeze took away my lonely smile. Winter is over, I am still intoxicated in loneliness, those flowing notes, let the mountains pour their thoughts on the white clouds, the mountain peach blossoms are like clouds, when a ray of sunshine protrudes from the reverie, you sing the fragrance of the wilderness, many crystalline verses, such as dew under the sun shining. In response to your rhythm, the yellow warbler is also singing. The years of smoke and dust that have passed, the sour, sweet and bitter spicy of this life, the pain of cooking smoke ignited, I return to the sunset.
Wait for your reincarnation in one lifetime after another, and write for you. The breeze ripples with a touch of melodious rhyme, and the fangfei in the field contains verses, blooming on the brow of the season, dimming all the ink and danqing. In that life, you were dressed in red like fire, and I wrote a poem for you, green willows blowing smoke, dappled the years, and also told the parting. You promised me the sea of dry stones, let me dye you green silk, helplessly give the strings, ask the wine to the breeze, and break the intestines of acacia.
On the thousand-year-old stone bridge, you and I came together to engrave eternal colors for this world, romantic in the season of Fangfei, tonight, I condensed my thoughts into a camellia flower, quietly placed in the window overlooking, a fragrance dancing in the wind, for you to sway a dream outside the dust. All the pure dreams in life are rejoicing in the branches, the butterflies are crossing with our surprised eyes, the herbs are affectionate, the stream is babbling, I hold your hands shallowly, and in your clear eyes, I see the earthly world of clear spring water. The wind is very light, like a thousand words that haunt my ears, under the sun, your smile is shallow and warm, and it is very beautiful for us to stand without speaking.
I like to have your night, the bright moon in the sky, the clear and serene appearance, like an elegant you. Let the hearts pile up into a wreckage ruler, smoke and rain new willows, peach branches and bones, looking at the end of the world, the green grass away from the road, the tower, how much spring light can life fall on our eyes? The wind gently brushes the water, like your hand caressing my leisurely dreams. In the dream, you are a water lotus on the lake of my heart, the white skirt swaying against the water, and every wisp is my gentle talk. I can't describe your beauty in words, and who wrote acacia so intoxicatingly? "Look at the sky, look at the clouds, think of the king when you walk, and think of the king when you sit."
You are the piccolo that I have not forgotten in my previous life, wandering through the red dust, and after countless reincarnations, you sound leisurely in the search for smoke and rain. I thought that meeting is the most beautiful happiness in life, so I used a splendid begonia flower, in the softest way in the world, in the season when you are watching with your heart, flying flowers and dotting green, for you to bloom a spring. I often wonder, if the warm white clouds in the south of the river meet the amorous wind in the north, will there be a peach blossom rain and dye the willow branches on both sides of the river? I don't know how to describe my thoughts about you, nor do I know how to talk about my concern for you, but I would like to spend my life on a trip with you. Although you will experience both wind and rain, where there is you, a brilliant rainbow will grow.
I always feel that you are my lover who has waited for three lifetimes. The charm of your smile has brightened my life. Perhaps, there is an encounter in the world, called a first sight, and there is a kind of encounter, called a glance of ten thousand years. If love is a blossoming tree, then a tree cuckoo that blooms all over the hillside is my heart and mind, let you dwell in my heart, put your hand in the palm of my hand, pour out a lifetime of tenderness, and make a dream with you...
Grass color light smoke, flower steps in front of the court, the same spring breeze, know with whom? I can't see the flowers blossoming and falling, I can't lock the spring dream, I only have to remember with my heart, the red dust is a dream, and the spring trace...
【Author's Profile】Wang Xinglin (male), pen name and listening to the wind, Shaanxi Ankang people, after 60, served in the Pamir Plateau of Xinjiang for four years, like amateur writing, there are many poems scattered on multiple platforms and paper media, one without any title, with half a life to travel the motherland's great rivers and mountains, footprints across the Great Wall, north and south of the great river, rich life experience, wonderful inner emotional world.
【Introduction to The Reader】Wang Xiaoyin (female), screen name: Wind and Rain Peer, member of the Shandong Recitation Artists Association, retired from the provincial state-owned financial enterprise, senior economist; there is love in the heart, there is goodness in the deeds, and strive to be a person with his own sunshine.
One point number mantra of chastity