Text/Liu Yutao
The april breeze is clear and the spring is gradually gradual. The flower god is the god of spring, bringing fangfei to Shufangyuan wantonly, begonia flowers blooming, swaying in the lintel of spring. Each flower bud is a happy smile, the petals are happy kisses, and the flowers are fragrant thoughts. The woman wearing the cheongsam on the negative film of "The Story of the Old House Flower Season" that year, you came with the graceful and colorful models of spring.
From your side to read the reunion, there is the brightness and green of spring, there is the fragrance of flowers floating in the garden, and there are birds chirping in the heart. I think of you a lot, and in my contemplation, you are my calm. You are my bravery as I act. When I have insomnia, smile. In my excitement, you are my tears. I read from you warmth, where the sun is soothingly, I read from you gentle, where the begonia flies to your face, read the purity, read the beauty, read the deep hope and aftertaste, which light sound rises, I read a mellow "begonia still".
Open the frame, freeze the woman wearing a cheongsam in the spring of the bath, render a season of flowers, one after another, dazzling, drunk an inch of acacia. Begonias are dark incense gushing, dotted with flowers and bones, dotted in the bare branches grow green buds, which is the power of a winter to prepare for the momentum. Begonias have been the favorite of the literati since ancient times, painting begonias and chanting begonias. In the blink of an eye, the begonias opened up, one by one, squeezing and squeezing, clumps, clusters, wrapped around you and me. You see the woman in the cheongsam, the lingering whispers, far away, light, smiling face, flashing sly dimples.
The flowers in Shufang Garden, stubble after stubble, apricot blossoms drunk, plum blossoms white, peach blossoms red, at this time the begonias in the sky are brilliant, like ethereal snowflakes, like crystal stars. The begonias full of trees are drunk, standing under the begonia trees, the spring breeze blows, floating down, it is a tender water-like rain of begonia flowers. This is a love song of spring, this is a dance of spring, this is a picture of spring ink. When the woman wearing the cheongsam, feminine and colorful, leaned over, picked up a piece of flower petals, hid a heart, and in the heart of acacia. The gentleness of the begonias, like a sea of affectionate flowers, a thousand flowers and a hundred flowers compete for beauty, the flowers are not intoxicating, everyone is intoxicated, and the begonias are fragrant.
Long memories, constantly floating in the past, the heart is flying, time leaves a taste, but also the mark of memory. I have never thought about it, easily interpreted, and those cries in the red dust have never thought about it, and I have easily explained that the mistakes of those years have never thought about the persistence of those times. It's just that the yin and yang of the human world are lacking, leaving behind the fierceness of red dust. Standing in the wind of Shufang Garden, keeping your promises, thinking of your good, with a little loss, you are a complex that I can't forget in my life. "Begonia is still" but is firmly locked in the boudoir of love. Let yourself hide behind shufang garden, that beautiful place, and keep your thoughts in the elders.
Years go by, flowers and worlds. Forget the worries of the red dust, fame and fortune are all external objects, and it is best to be willing. No matter where you are, I only look for the paradise of the Garden of Grace in my heart. Red dust turns thousands of times, with a touch of indifference, poetry and affection, hold a understanding, when the wind rises, when the rain falls, when the flowers are thankful, keep an indifferent heart, and meet the time a quiet beauty. In the Shufang Garden of the Flowing Years, look for the sweet fragrance of the years, look for the happiness of life, and look for the direction of happiness. There is always a story waiting for you to read, there is always a begonia blooming for you, and there is always a touch of emotion in your heart. Whether it is good or bad, whether it is sad or happy.
Fang Fei in April, Mo Negative Spring, not worthy of Shaohua, a group of women wearing qipao, bathed in light red dust love songs to warm, leaving a feeling of home and country, into the Shufang Garden, to see the flowers, to appreciate the flowers, beautiful eyes, mark the heart. You see, begonias are still smiling in the spring breeze, and I am romantically entangled with the flowers in Shufang Garden.
Photo courtesy of: Zhu Kui, member of Shandong Photographers Association, deputy secretary general and director of Longkou Photographers Association. His photographic works have been exhibited and published at the national, provincial (municipal), Yantai and Longkou levels for many times.
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One point no. Longkou literature