<h1>The sound of the piano at dusk (excerpt).</h1>
Author: Wang Guozhen
The violin was melancholy in the twilight for a long time, and my mind stopped in that sentimental atmosphere, not to listen to the story without a plot, because you and I have such a story.
I am lamenting that the music decorates the melancholy so beautifully that people want to blame fate but can't say it. The wind drifted toward the balcony and blew toward the back door, carrying a gentle rhythm in the quiet room.
Jasmine blossoms like stars in the sky, for this warmth I don't know how many wordless waits have been experienced. You can see the flowers bloom but you can't see the flowers fall, but is it not the reason for not planting flowers because you are afraid of the flowers? The feeling that can make the piano sound so melancholy is jasmine, the blossom makes people happy, and the flower falls makes people sad.
The leaves of the poplar tree outside the window are green, and does the old man who plays under the tree also follow the feeling like the young man sings? Although I have passed the age of dreaming, I can still grasp the hand of dreams. Watching chess around without saying a word, the little grandson who whistles from time to time is the end of the old man's dream. The old people completely forgot the sound of the piano, because at this time one was a general, and the other was half-closing his eyes and holding his beard. Oh, did you have the worries of this piano when you were old and young?
Not far away, next to the lilac tree, a little girl was sitting on a small bench carefully reading her future. Little girl standing on the deck of years, what do you see? It's the bird, it's the sail shadow, it's the white gull...
The violin was melancholy for a long time in the dusk, and my mind stopped in that sentimental atmosphere. I admired the beautiful man who could turn pain into pain, for I also believed that after that poignant rhythm, the familiar and unfamiliar violinist would slowly raise his head as deep as it had once been.
We don't need to be afraid of the difficult setbacks ahead, because as long as we have worked hard, struggled, chased, experienced, whether successful or not, those beautiful experiences, brilliant fragments, for us, are also a kind of motivation, is an immeasurable wealth.
Poetry
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