Butterfly Love Flower Spring Evening
[Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms] Li Yu
The night pavilion Gao leisurely walked, only after the Qingming, gradually felt sad spring twilight. A few rains and winds stopped, and the hazy moon clouds came and went.
The peach and plum are fragrant and dark, who is on the swing, whispering in a smile. There are thousands of hearts, and there is no place in the world.
There are always days when you are either taught by time or let down by the years. There are some things that have been experienced too much and become silent. After a lot of experience, when encountering people and accidents, they began to think carefully about the weight, began to calculate the pay, and even calculated whether they were worthy of being treated like this by the other party. The older you get, the more you understand worthy feelings, and the more you must refrain from cherishing them. This kind of restraint lies in not easily saying conclusions, not easily saying love, and not easily committing.
This is not a kind of selfishness, let alone a kind of cowardice, this is a solemn thing after deeply understanding the difficulties of the world. The more difficult it is, the more restrained it is. I started to feel less like to talk and didn't want to talk more. Sometimes there's nothing to say, sometimes there's no one to say. It's okay not to say something, and it's okay for some people not to ask. People who are in tacit agreement will inevitably have the same heartbeat, and people at the same level will naturally have the same frequency. What good is it to say more, not to mention that language itself is a huge trap. Different contexts and emotions will have different meanings, and even different characters will have different conclusions when they listen to the same words.
Because of this, there is poetry. seems to be silent, and it seems to be a depiction of love. Good poetry is like a cool morning mist, silently surrounding the long-sealed heart. In the hazy background, the guard is down, the suspicion is gone, there is no risk of leaking the heart, and there is no black and white fierceness. Some are just bright winds and moons, and some are just spring breezes and rains. "Who's on the swing, laughing softly. A poem opens everyone's imagination, what has been past has passed, and what has been experienced has dissipated.
"Mo went upstairs, and they were all old in the dust. "Who can protect whom? It's just that in this noisy world, find a habit, find a dull place, and then slowly grow old. Even if the world speaks ill of you, even if the world praises you too much, it is just a passing moment. Nothing lasts, and nothing is immortal. Whether it is a talented woman or a hero, the curtain will come to an early end when he dies young, but "longevity without decay" may be smiling at the world. If there's anything you can't forget, it's the story in your heart. The old age is forgetful, but do not forget the lovesickness, one by one these lovesickness into words, one by one to sort out those scattered encounters, parting turns, is the red dust of the world.
When the night is like water, I walked alone on the pavilion, walked forward, and suddenly walked through the spring. A few drops of rain fell, and the wind blew expressionlessly, accompanied by raindrops. In the hazy moment, there is no moonlight. When the clouds come and go, the moonlight is faintly discerning.
The peach blossom and apricot blossom gently send fragrance to the tip of the nose, as if there is nothing, as if cautious and restrained. I don't know where someone is swinging, and I don't know whose house the soft laughter is coming from. Walking, thoughts, little by little, but I don't know where to go in the world. There is nowhere to put it under heaven and earth. Maybe there are some feelings, and in the end they already know to separate. At that time, I was no longer worried about losing, but I was worried about how I would lose it in the end.
I don't know what kind of expression I will use to face it when I lose, and I don't know what kind of state each other will be like after loss. Too much I don't know, too much I don't know, too much imaginary suffering and suffering, in fact, the biggest pain is that even if I know that I will lose, I still don't want to lose you. "A thousand hearts", the more cherished things are, the more they want to hold onto them, and those heavy problems that they don't want to mention, none of them want to face.
The scenery moves with the people, and the stars are dotted at night. Some are late, but not too late. Walking and walking, the inner depression slipped out quietly in such a dark night. I can't find where I came from, I can't find where I want to go. The light moon, the clouds, the breeze is a few wisps, the raindrops are light, and the apricot blossoms and peach blossoms bloom quietly. Such a night is suitable for walking together, chatting and laughing, watching the light moon together, and smelling the fragrance of flowers.
At this time, there is only one person who can walk over and walk back again. Some feelings are indeed impossible to share, even if there are voices everywhere, even if there is care everywhere, you can't easily show others. Such a mood can only be quietly precipitated in the light moon and sparse leaves. The distance between people is always sensitive, and there are many people around such a night, but they don't want to say a word. Such a night only needs a silent ear and an arc of a smile. There's so much unprovoked jealousy, too much unwarranted anger, too much unprovoked hatred, and too much unanswered contempt. Seeing the beauty of the world alone is a kind of loneliness. Seeing the darkness of the world alone is a kind of dark wound that cannot be confided. Both of these words, this word has both.
If you go back in time, what can you do? Seeing those beautiful things, having those experiences, getting those stories, and slowly transitioning from a smiling teenager to a vague adult. Every growth is a silent farewell, once thought that dreams bring the motivation of life, until the dream withered, still quietly rely on inertia to live; once thought that there must be a lot of love, a lot of money to live in peace, in order to have a sense of security, until I become my biggest support, only to understand that everything is just young and ignorant; I once thought that the loss of pain will become a lifetime of lingering, until love and hate lose the outline, only the self is left rolling in life.
All the original scenery, all the original encounters, are just to enrich a part of life. In the process of lingering like that, it's just because those people and things are mixed in. If there is no person, without that incident, no matter how big the end of the world is, no matter how much love and hatred there is, what does it have to do with oneself?
This is life, even if "there is no arrangement in the world", it does not prevent it from continuing to live. And life itself is meaning, living has these seven emotions and six desires, and then you will taste the shortness of this life, and you will understand that even those sad nights with nowhere to put them are the gifts of life once in life. Whether it's pain or happiness, there is only one time. No matter how sad you are, you must move forward. When you are in turmoil, when you don't believe in yourself, when you are not sure if you can achieve your goal, or even when you are so weak that you want to give up, will you surrender?
You can't surrender, life is not a chess game that can be started all over again. If you haven't carried that hurdle, if you haven't walked that road, even if you live, you are actually no different from the living dead. Whether it's emotion or life, even if "there is no place in the world". What should be experienced, what should be repaid, what should be paid, and what should be forgotten with a smile must not be missing.
And we, with dark wounds and feelings, all the way forward.