In this world, there are many things that bring joy. Throughout, there have been countless thoughts and beliefs that have never been pondered and cherished. But now, it's not just about oneself. It's always necessary to involuntarily chatter to others. However, it's not like before. It's just like the moon seen from a small building at this moment. It's only thinking about the clarity and transparency of this small window, and it's also the elegance of this place. I just want to see the boundless world, but the edge of the house is hard to see. In the past, I did have some narrow thoughts like mushrooms and crickets, but now it can be said to be a "rebirth" of affection. It's also the bright silver eyebrows that are always pouring out their hearts, regardless of the weather. They often speak to me in silence.
Perhaps in the beginning, when I first met her, it was a moment, maybe gradually, but I was only fascinated by this place. It was only because of the lightness that the eyes that had been covered by the long night were already covered with snow, and the figure that was as clear as the green was already bright. It made my heart become tipsy and intoxicated without her. The more unintentional thoughts in my heart, the more I feel that the act of writing has become more distinct. I think it is a mutual affection and a thought to hold on to each other.
I couldn't help but have some silly thoughts. She was probably like this at the beginning, just indulging in the clarity of the small window. How could she be like a general Jing, often admiring her own clarity and brightness. I am clearly so "selfish". Seeing that the night sky, which was as clear as washing, is gradually becoming a long night, I can only sigh and lament, and there is no other way to change it. This is how Qiu Shi comes. At this moment, I am writing under the moonlight, and she is shining in her eyes. The deepest thought in my heart is that I may not have come to mind some of the past shadows.
Having said that, there are always some foolish people in this world, and it is appropriate to say that they are silly. Thinking about Wei Que Jin Ma and the grass hall Penglai, how similar they are. Holding a jade tablet is better than holding a bald pen. Perhaps this bald pen, half ink and loose ink, often has no chance of being recorded in history. But this unintentional thought, willing to bow down to the ink left by the past, the ancient emotions in each volume, where there is so much concern for how famous it is. It's not pretending to be indifferent, it's good for me, and it's good for her. Fame is always pleasing, but there is always a moment when you have to think about it. At this fortunate moment, how can I not be happy to write? It is the same for all of you, the predecessors, who are far away in time, and I foolishly hope that the later generations can see the ordinary thoughts of "Sleeping Flower Louzhu Changqing", which makes me more and more happy.
Let's end with two simple poems. How to express affection has always been a matter of no need for superfluous words.
Ying Ti Yinti
The shadow of the spring courtyard is still the same, the sea of peach blossoms is as thick as wine. The slender plum is thin, the curtain is full of early fragrance, and it attracts the leisurely sorrow of the bright moon. Flowing silver courtyard, Tong Xian Su sleeve, Xiaoxiang turns the song into Guanghan Autumn. Leaning on the steps at night, the oriole's song is the same as before. Looking at the west building, the moon is hanging on the weeping willow, and the fragrance of orchids is after dusk. Relying on the railings, the Du Ruo is thin and quiet. Sighing for the beauty, it is difficult to send the eyes, and it is gone in a hurry, and the Li song is tired. The sad dream, always makes people think deeply, a river flowing east. In the chrysanthemum garden, the orchid garden gradually withers, facing each other in two quiet places. Burying the ruined stamens, the fallen red is unreliable and difficult to collect. The cassia moon and the lotus soul, the orchid bones and the hibiscus skin, where are they now? Pity the flowers and the sad leaves, cherish the branches and the desolate, chasing the sleeves of Chu, it is difficult to repay. Even if you meet in a dream, you still sigh. Let's have a cold drink and invite the hook moon from afar, and get drunk for a while. Let's stop the cup, it's useless to be depressed, and it's sad to stop writing. Just give it all, the green blood of a lifetime, between the lines of the pen, far and near with the previous fragrance, the Shao song is played again. Why not look at the shadow, don't be sad, the stone orchid and the ivy are always together, and you can still see new talents.
Untitled
In the spring, I miss the quiet courtyard, the deserted branches, and the old traces of shadows. Night snow dances again, the dim candlelight reflects the dusty appearance. The fragrant orchids and jade orchids search for autumn frost, the pure lily and clean lotus are even more hazy at night. The previous sad thoughts are gone, and I only want to guard the clear pool.
This article is synchronized and updated to xLog by Mix Space.
The original link is https://nishikori.tech/posts/prose/2022-01-28