The weeping poplars are green and shaded.
The small pond is shallow and the waves are like a seal.
The wind is uncertain, and the people are quiet.
The sky was clear after many days of rain, the rain rested, and the clouds dispersed. The mountains are verdant and misty.
"Strange on the lilac scissors drunken language, the wind in the plain female makeup light purple."
April asks for incense, only cloves are waiting.
Strange on the top, the stream, the foot of the mountain, the garden, there is a warm sun can see the cloves.
The west window is white, there are cool moons, and a courtyard of lilac snow.
White lilacs, shy, shallow smile, lying in the green leaves.
Every flower, delicate, seems to have been soaked in the snow. White is elegant, beautiful and simple, overflowing with human purity.
The color of the flowers, thick and light complement each other.
The fragrance of flowers is refreshing. Just a tap and fill the sleeves.
She is not as rich as the peony, who moves the capital during the blossoming season; not as good as Mei Lengyan, ling Han blooms alone; nor is she as good as Lan Hui, who recites Chu Ci alone.
There is melancholy in cleanliness, modesty in introspection, and determination in softness.
Clusters of lilacs, like bells strung together, the sky is silent.
Recently, a rare leisure.
The water is quiet and the sun is simple.
Stroll along the trails, the river bends, the breeze blows, and the birdsong in the distance are gentle and melodious.
There is the fragrance of flowers, the fragrance of grass, and the water.
Beside the road, the bouquet of white cloves that were blooming, covered in moonlight, loomed in the half-hidden green leaves. Because it has just bloomed, the white has not yet spread throughout the branches, and the fragrance is already full.
For cloves, Li Shangyin of the Tang Dynasty has a poetry day: "Basho does not show the lilac knot, and the same spring wind is worried." ”
Li Jing described: "Who is the Lord who falls in the wind, think slowly. The blue bird does not pass on the cloud outside the letter, and the lilac is empty and sad in the rain. ”
And the female lyricist of the Song Dynasty, Li Qingzhao's description of lilacs is even more into the wood:
"Mei Rui is very vulgar, and the lilacs are bitter and rough." Smoke through people's dreams, but ruthless. ”
Lilac, since ancient times, combined with the sorrow, beauty and longing of the literati, makes people like it at the same time, a little more silent.
Dai Wangshu's lilac girl, the one holding the oil-paper umbrella, wanders alone in the long, lonely rain alley.
Let people love and care.
Why lonely? And why wandering?
Amorous people will always be sad and sad.
After the valley rain, the day gradually grew.
Sit quietly in the sun. Ren Qingfeng stirred up the delicate heart, slowly combed, slowly reminisced...
In life, there are endless sorrows, endless love-hate entanglements.
No one's life will be a pure land, fresh clothes and angry horses, and the years are quiet.
Mr. Yang Dai once said:
"There is no one in this world who is not injured, and at any time, you must believe that the only thing that can really heal you is yourself." Don't complain, try to precipitate. Believe that the world is worth it! ”
Life is the sea, the mountains and the mountains, but er.
He is his own savior, like a lilac flower, the breeze is clear to the bone, in his own world, alone.
Whether you are there or not, see or not. The mind is free of distractions and quietly blooms. Do not compete with the crowd, in the indifference, tranquility, taste the suffering of the world.
With a soft heart, be silent in the world, and enjoy the fragrance of time.
Years, like the babbling of water.
Take a hold of the purity of time, the warmth of a touch of sunshine.
Do not touch the wind and moon, do not cause trouble.
Smile and watch the flowers bloom, and enjoy the flowers falling.
Come quietly, go quietly. Quietly work hard, quietly harvest.
A cup of tea, a sunny afternoon.
A book, a flat verse.
In this silence, embroider a flower of time and shade, the leaves are fragrant.
Author: Yi He Yi (WeChat: wh68366) Su Rili, writing warmly, chanting Tang poems and Song words; burning incense and studying ink, listening to the residual lotus falling snow. The article has been published in many newspapers, magazines and official account platforms. He has published two collections of essays, "Those Little Things of Happiness", "Plain Heart Like Jane".
Source: Anban Lanruo