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Roses, Xin, Language, Snow fluttering, cold wind, northern, how many degrees of cold, freezing how many people?

Scratching the traces of time, coming to the universe beyond the starry sky, What catches your eye is illusory, but also ethereal, uninhibited dreams, where the water is the sound and shadow of your past, Here is the sound of the wind is your future call, Here is the house you have, Here is the most beautiful flower in the world - your dream.

Here are the most perfect photos, memories of your youth.

There are your laughter, sorrows, tears, countless days and nights, you come here to wash away all your sorrows.

The wind is slow, the dreams are chaotic,

I don't know when time washed away the traces of each other,

Let me not be afraid of the cold body, but also the cold of the north wind,

Perhaps, this is the power of the spirit.

For people, in addition to material power, what is more powerful is spiritual power.

It's full of emotion, it's full of transcendent substances, it's changing each other, it's making us happy, it's making us sad, it's giving each other infinite energy, and I remember all those years ago, I've been following the truth, "Don't stay too long for a flower."

I've been doing well, well, all the time, but this time, I can't.

I got stuck in my own soul, and I couldn't extricate myself, and maybe this time, no one could save me, because I never thought about it.

Perhaps, years later, I'll come out, but I think I'll be white by then.

Is it? Is it? Is it?

When fate tells me it's time to do what I want to do. The only concern that can't be let go, Since it's you, isn't it? I see it as myself, is it myself? Or family, or friends?

There are many times when I am really confused, very confused,

But can I get out?

Perhaps I was already out when I wrote these words.

I just don't want to believe it.

Is it! Yes! Yes!

Day after day, Time will wash away the wounds all over your body, can give you the most beautiful interpretation,

Fate can make the worst things. Become the most exquisite baby.

A grain of dust and sand, will become a pearl with the help of years.

Covered with yellow sand,

How much grass and trees have been eroded.

Flowing emotions, how many children are intoxicated,

Endless red dust, How many gray hairs have been given.

Green silk, white hair, red face,

Youth, old age, chivalrous shadow,

No traces, no regrets, no invincibility.

Affectionate, righteous, loving.

How much cause and effect has been solidified in the fragrance of the moment.

A moment of retrospective, how many city-states have been dumped.

When fate,

Tell you about me.

In the pursuit of this body,

We all have to let go of our dreams.

Following the laws of nature, birth, old age, sickness and death, a moment of beauty.

Looking back on the dream, I only remember,

That nameless randomness,

The warmth of freedom,

The dream of flying.

-- Fly

- "Wind Flowers and Snow Moon: Love You in My Life: Rose Heart Whispers 22"

――

Roses, Xin, words, don't talk for a long time, although there are a thousand words, in fact, it is better not to say, because there are some things, there is no need to say, you and I both know, and understand, the red dust that is stupid and drunk, how much memory, the bits and pieces of forgetting, casual, traceless, and comfortable is the beauty of life.

Plum blossoms, orchid leaves, bamboo branches, chrysanthemums, pine needles,

Five treasures, I have given you orchid, chrysanthemum, plum, bamboo, pine, three things in the future, there is a fate to give again.

Orchid leaves are fragrant, chrysanthemums are drunk, plum is fragrant and snowy, bamboo branches are dancing lightly, pine needles are fragrant,

A song of the world, pen and ink poems and books, Wenwu business, three ways twenty-four years, I am just a first-time hearer, the world is ups and downs, the family is poor, I am in the home of ordinary people, it is difficult, it is difficult to show my ambitions,

Who today forgets his family for the sake of his ideals?

So, for the sake of ideals, I gave up my emotions again, so I did the 28th thing.

That week, I made the second love in my life,

The first time was twelve years ago, I didn't cut love, It was to seal the emotion, And this time it was the love, I was moved by my heart, I didn't dare to completely pursue what I loved, Because I have nothing, In this world, Even my life is not completely mine, So I dare not love you, so I didn't do those words, and I didn't do what I said, Plus, You don't like me, But I'm obsessed, There's no way, I can only turn my love for you into a little bit of affection, ignite your soul, and use it to write and create, Use this to remember those bits and pieces.

Perhaps, you're not perfect,

But it's the second beauty that completely tempts me,

And after that, after the love, I will just return to my original intention and continue my pursuit.

It's just that in this process, I feel sad for you, you don't give your heart to your current friends, and I think this is also what you can't do.

But whatever?

I've given you everything I can give,

Because I have nothing, I can give my loved ones, only those that are illusory, and I won't give my lover material help.

Because I have nothing.

In this journey, I have learned many truths, Thank you for giving me eternal friendship,

Our friendship will never die, no matter what? How the years pass, How the memories of life rise and fall, What will become of you and me? But this affection is eternal in my heart.

Because you have made me through the years of my life, stupid, drunk, and confused, that stupid person. Although it has passed, his heart is forever in love with a pure lonely.

I will freeze the memories of their lives in my eternal realm.

Ruth will go from now on, and my blessings to you will be finished.

From spring to summer, from autumn to winter.

From ancient times, to the present, to the future,

With my most sincere wishes, I wish that the flower of my drunken love, may she be beautiful, healthy, and fulfilled.

Flower language world,

Stupid Yan Huang,

5,000 reincarnations,

Memories are a bit of a memory.

Book Mountain and Sea of Clouds,

Pen and ink world,

Vicissitudes of life.

Wishing Lan Butterfly,

Eternally free,

Health and happiness.

-- Fly

- "Wind and Snow Moon: Love You in My Life: Rose Heart Whispers 23"

Roses, Xin, Words, Christmas Eve is here, this year, it won't be the same as last year, the passing years, I will remember only drunkenness, forgetfulness and pain. I don't know the time.

It is said that in the ancient times of the West,

An old man with white hair and a beard. Every night. Will drive a deer car, come to the world from heaven and prepare a beautiful gift for the lovely babies. Family, family. One treasure after another, the wish of the heart, in a sock, cherishes, cherishes the most beautiful memories of innocence.

Now that time and space have changed, the legendary Santa Claus, although there is no trace of him, his story has been passed down. People celebrate Christmas, and every December 24th has become Christmas Eve in the hearts of countless people.

And the Chinese who can enjoy it the most, have also unconsciously accepted this festival.

Peace, Christmas!

There are several sources of legend for Christmas, and I'll just say the one I believe in.

On the night of December 23, 1818, in the village of Auburn on the banks of the Saarzach River in Austria, a mouse boldly slipped into the organ chamber of the old church of St. Nicolas in the village. This little thing that was hungry and cold ran around, biting everywhere, and finally did a "far-reaching event", which led to a song

Christmas Eve

The birth of the popular Christmas hymn. Early the next morning, a middle-aged man in a black gown walked into the church and sat down next to the organ. The man's name was Franz Gruber, he was thirty-one years old, with black hair, a high nose and affectionate eyes. Although he is unknown, he is very respected by the villagers in this remote area. Because he was a primary school teacher in his village and an organist in the church of St. Nicolas. [2]

He sat down, pedaled, and pressed the keys. But the organ only emitted a few faint whimperes.

As Gruber was about to lean over to find out, his good friend Joseph Moore arrived. More was a priest and a musician. The official priest of the village church in Auburn had not yet been sent, and Moore had been sent to take his place on an ad hoc basis.

Gruber was stunned when he saw him, and hurriedly asked, "God blesses you!" The young surrogate priest raised his hands in a look of despair, and motioned for his friend to get up and go with him.

On Christmas Eve, Snowy Moore led Gruber behind the keyboard of the organ in the building, pointed to a large hole in the bellows of the wind, and said, "I found this hole this morning, and it must have been bitten by rats." Now when I step on it, there is no sound!" Gruber carefully examined the hole in the bellows. It's unbelievable that there is no organ to have Mass on Christmas night! He couldn't help but shout, "Damn it! What are we going to do now?"

"There is a way," said Father Moore, a little shyly, "I have written a short poem, which can be used as a lyric to make do with it." Then he said solemnly, "This is not a song of that kind." ”

Gruber smiled when he saw his friend so excited. For it is well known that Mohr was very fond of "that kind"—the so-called vulgar folk tune sung to the accompaniment of the zitra while the peasant women and shipwrights were drinking. This kind of thing often causes resentment among the stubborn and old-fashioned pious, and causes the sanctimonious elders to frown.

Gruber picked up Moore's poem and read the first few paragraphs, and suddenly felt as if there was a strange aura running through his spine. It's really not "that kind" song. It seemed to have captured his heart. Speak to him gently, simply and movingly. He had never been so deeply moved. The music of these verses rang faintly in his ears.

"I just thought," said Moore, almost apologetically, "since our organ is no longer sounding, can you give this thing a tune to our guitar, and maybe a little children's choir to sing it,...... What do you think?"

On Christmas Eve, Gruber said, "Yes, yes, yes! Maybe we can do that." Give it to me, and I'll take it back and see if I can write the tune. ”

Grubber walked slowly back to Anse Village as he stepped on the snow on the ground. He immersed himself in his musical conception along the way.

"Christmas Eve, Holy Night.

Ten thousand in the dark. Radiance.

He, like the deaf Beethoven, heard all the melodies in his heart:

According to the Virgin and the Holy Child,

How much kindness and how much innocence,

Enjoy a heavenly sleep.

Enjoy a heavenly sleep. ”

The tune he was going to write for the children's chorus was already echoing in his head. He returned to his modest house. Sit at his old piano. Facing the cross hanging on the wall, the complete song was finally composed.

That afternoon, twelve boys and girls had gathered in Moore's study. They wore woolen stockings, coats, and aprons. Neat and beautiful. They stood side by side under a circle of holly wreaths, and they looked more and more vibrant.

Santa's rehearsal for Christmas Eve began, and Gruber and Moore each played their guitars, smiling at each other with satisfaction. At the beginning, everyone was not familiar with the songs, and the playing and singing were a little rougher. The third part was also not appropriate, but it was quickly corrected. Alright, the song is finally complete.

On Christmas Eve, hundreds of candles lit in the church shine brightly on the polished gold plates and communion cups, giving the stiff Gothic Madonna a life and tenderness. The church is decorated with green pines, evergreens, and holy berries everywhere. The whole congregation sat on a long hard bench. The men wore bloated woolen coats, while the women were draped in striking aprons and colored shawls.

When Moore and Gruber carried their guitars and followed the twelve boys and girls up to the altar, the astonished crowd stirred up. Gruber nodded slightly to his band, and the strings were plucked. Then Father Moore's tenor and Mr. Gruber's bass resonated harmoniously throughout the old church.

Thus, for the first time, the long-standing Christmas hymn was sung by people. However, the next day it was forgotten. None of the people who attended Christmas Mass at that time could have imagined that the song would become a global phenomenon.

It was only by chance that this masterpiece was saved from drowning. In the spring of the following year, an organ repairer, Karl Maurach, arrived from Zillertal. In the midst of his casual conversation, he asked, "How do you do Christmas Mass, since the organ is broken?" Gruber said of the tune, "It's a worthless thing, I have forgotten where I put it." "At the back of the church there was a small cupboard filled with piles of paper that had been in the dust for a long time. That's where Gruber found the score.

The organ repairman looked at the score, moved his lips slightly, and hummed the tune from his broad chest. "Interesting," he said softly, "may I take it back and see it?"

Gruber burst out laughing. "Alright, alright, you can just take it. Besides, after you fix the piano, this thing is even more useless. After Maurach left, Gruber forgot about it. However, Christmas Eve echoed in the lovely mountains of Zillertal and began its journey far and wide.

The song was introduced as folk music from Austria to Germany. It crossed borders and spread across the ocean with German immigrants. But it wasn't until not so long ago that Moore and Gruber were recognized as the creators of the song. They got nothing, and they died as poor as they did when they lived. However, Gruber's old guitar still sings for him today, and it has become a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation by the Gruber family. Now, every Christmas Eve, people bring the guitar to the village of Auburn. Faithful people around the world are once again singing this beloved Christmas hymn......

Christmas gifts,

Tonight's Christmas Eve, I hope you and I don't meet again. Because I don't know what to say?

Happy Christmas Eve!

Sleeping me, all I can do is get drunk alone,

Will someone give me a gift? I don't know, I think I'll wait quietly. After dinner, I slowly write. Slowly, step by step, looking at the past, savoring the present little by little, the only thing I have learned this year is the basic guarantee of material life, the guarantee of spiritual life, the guarantee of life.

Arbitrary, casual,

Peace and happiness!

―― Fly

――"Wind and Snow Moon: Love You in My Life: Rose Heart Whisper 24"

Roses, Xin, Words, Today's drunken hope, Lost in the illusory world, Time passes little by little, there is no doubt, there is no sigh, Just slowly read the book, Spend Christmas.

Perhaps, this is the first time I've had such a simple holiday, although it's very bad and very sad. But not bad.

None of my friends came to bother me. Speaking of which, over the years, as my friends said, I have a very low sense of presence in my friends, and almost no one has ever come to me on their own initiative, nothing has happened. Just play the case. Almost no one ever approached me. Maybe that's my loneliness.

The blessing was written yesterday, and the next thing is to reminisce and talk nonsense.

Maybe this is the first time that you have said something muddled, such a formal nonsense.

But I hope it's not the last. But it is estimated that this will be the last time.

Because these days, you're completely hurt. Since I hurt you so badly, and my heart is so broken.

The waning moon outside the window, seems to be telling the stupidity of the world,

The cold, cold wind seemed to caress Mother Earth's hair.

I don't know when, I won't be able to do it.

I don't know when I'll be able to get out of my stupidity completely.

Maybe I've come out of it,

It's just that I don't want to admit it.

But after a long time, I think I've been able to face myself and you calmly.

Because of stupidity, so forget,

Because of forgetting, there is affection.

Because there is affection, there is no self.

The years are like a dream, and there are no words,

A little bit of pen and ink, only to know the illusion,

There are thousands of Buddhas and demons, all like thoughts.

The avenue is three thousand, and love is eternal.

Infatuated, life and death without a trace.

Butterfly dreams in the past, get along day and night,

White-haired scholar, reincarnation several degrees.

A night of nonsense, how much stupidity!

Half a step of smoke and rain, a little fragrant!

Ask no regrets, look at the sea and sigh no!

A song of flying immortals, happy and free!

-- Fly

- "The Love of the Wind and the Snow Moon: The Rose Heart of You I 25"

――

There are a total of 25 sentences of rose heart, a sentence of nonsense, a little bit of stupidity, day by day like a dream. Remembering the past three years, I lost the first love of this life, and the moon was like the waning moon.

Forgetting is still like a flower, To this day, I am still the same,

The mind has not changed, the water meets, the passion is in the bits and pieces, and the forgetting is in the red dust.

There are no regrets, and there are no regrets, because what you do is free, ups and downs, is the world stupid?

A question about the vicissitudes of life, a question about the butterfly shadow,

Three lives are like dreams, not words,

It's fragrant, dreamlike.

I have more than 365 days a year, don't forget how much,

I think I can find a bond, I can find someone who can control me,

Now it seems, Why should I go to the red dust to tie up, and why should I go to the person who controls me?

I'm a lot of shackles, and I can control myself.

Why go to find a wife, find someone to be your core?

There is love in the world, thousands of avenues,

My business is so hard,

And why let the people you like go adrift with me?

Besides, human affairs are so complicated, and I am too compassionate, so why bother?

So, I still practice well,

The dust of this life has passed,

How much you forget, like fireworks, let them pass.

What you have to do is to follow your dreams and step into the clouds.

Step by step.

Life is like a dream, a sea of flowers,

How much do you remember, and how much can you do?

The ups and downs of life, several times to find,

How many waves are there in the sea and waves?

I can't completely let go of my family for my own sake.

I can't be myself anymore.

During the year、Yourself let go of your dreams?

Forget about the red dust.

Got the stupidity.

What does the future hold?

Then grasp the present step by step forward!

-- Fly

――"Wind Flowers and Snow Moon: Rose Heart: Floating Dust Love"

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Thank you for reading, thank you friends for your support, and listen to me tell me the story of the drunken fool in December 2014, the last month of the Year of the Horse.

Happy to you! Happy Year of the Goat!

Happy New Year!

Thank you for your support of "Martial Arts of Strange Fate", please comment!This is the end of the special article, and it will be the main text hereafter, please subscribe!. (To be continued.) )