Leisure and worry Zhang Baotong 2016.3.25

I stood in front of the window and looked at the sky for a long time, through the foggy sky, I saw the endless peach blossoms drifting in the spring rain, like a feeling lost in a long time.

I flew in the clouds of my thoughts, and that strange dream made me forget the time of this night.

Ah, spring has arrived, and I smell the fresh breath and the fragrance of the flowers, and I hear the cuckoo cry echoing through the mountains. But my heart wanders in a distant foreign land.

The ancient breeze strikes the sleepless bells. The spring rain is indefinite, the summer is lovely, the flowers are like a dream, the scenery is clear, and the Wizard of Oz is full of eyes in front of me, and I can't find the lost life.

The hustle and bustle made me unconscious, and the silence annoyed me. I long to travel far away, I long to get lost, where is the hometown of my soul?

The imagination has dried up, the mind is disillusioned, the numb heart has no feeling, and only emptiness rests in the soul. I am afraid of sinking, I long for the dawn, please take me into the temple of the Buddha.

Money and beautiful women fill my heart. But I float in the clouds, drifting with the wind, except for my soul, it is lonely.

I don't want much, but my soul is empty and hungry. I crave love, I crave love, this is the vivid color of my life.

The silence of late autumn filled with the smell of sunshine, which was the pure vitality of my childhood. As a young man, I was still sitting in the wheat field in the oil painting, thinking about Qu Yuan's proposition.

It seems that all happiness is an ethereal emptiness, and the harshness of tragedy is the colorful splendor. There is a lot of ambiguous sadness in the warm spring, is there still the glow of the bright moon in the sad youth?

Listening to the sorrow of the rain hitting the plantains, feeling the sad heartbreak of "Liang Zhu", staring at the yellowed years of life, I don't know the worry-free taste of youth.

The twilight is secluded, the moon is in my heart, the sky is long, and the lovesickness is endless. The beauty of the bright show, the softness of the dream, the water and the moon in the hand, blurring the sorrow of love.

The wild pigeon grieves in the dense forest, the starlight is lost in the cold wind, and the full moon is dying on the calendar.

We can't live in someone else's world, and the spark of life can only burn ourselves.

Youth is the warm season of poetry harvest, but I don't know where to lose innocence? The memory of vicissitudes needs to be tempered by the years, but the blur of time takes away your fresh breath.

Beautiful birds don't stay in the flowers for long, and we never reach the end of our hearts. Is it fighting the torrent in struggle, or is it sad and sad in the sidelines?

No one dominates your life, your mind holds the voyage of the future. Don't spend your short life with a good sleep, let the colorful fireworks shine on the time and space of your life.

Spring flowers and autumn months look back several times, winter love and summer love are 100 years old. The soul is confused, the years are green, the sunset is gorgeous and the moon is sad.

The long night is vast, there is no light in the stars, looking at the sky in the distance, where does the soul go? Time will not stop, and the mood cannot be bearable. The more crazy we are, the more melancholy our souls become, our material desires are corroding our hearts, and our emotions are already wild.

Whether it's romance or sadness, it's exacerbating the decline of feelings. When I sing about wine, what is life? Leisure and sorrow, the years are long, why do I often be sad? It is to let my dreams grow wisely.