After several years of spring and autumn, the endless precipitation of Qin brick and Han tile finally turned to ashes. Who has no intention of turning over the dark edge of history? Holding a handful of clear water, full of cold tears in the long river of history.

The bow on the Taibai skirt became the symbol of the prosperous Tang Dynasty, but he was full of ambition and lived in seclusion in the mountains. They all said they would blog again, but Li Bai didn't. He is tired of this kind of life. Perhaps it is the poet's proper destination to take a break from politics once in a while. So he stopped, sat in a canoe and recited poems, belittling officialdom and life, and went further.

Tao Qian, who once said, "When a cloud comes out of a hole unintentionally, a bird knows how to fly when it is tired", finally stopped in the officialdom, smiled back, lived a poor life and lived a secluded life from then on. However, without his decision to stop, how could that idyllic poem remain immortal, inspiring the world like a beautiful spring, and making history books remember this carefree poet?

His eyes are so deep that he wants to tell the world how the Qing Dynasty fell and how a family fell. So, he picked up a pen and wrote a poem in the Red Chamber, full of bitterness and coldness, full of unknown bitterness and tears. However, when life took him away, he had to stop writing, leaving the world curious and suspicious, just like Venus with a broken arm, but it also continued the theme of beauty. Cao Xueqin, people complained that he stopped writing, leaving half a red chamber, and therefore thanked him for letting the world remember this name forever in the curiosity of generations, the pride of China.

Just wandering on the edge of stop-and-go and forge ahead, dynasties change, life rises and falls, when we have experienced a hundred years of humiliation, or spent the dark and suffocating years of the Cultural Revolution, we can't help but ask, is history still advancing? The answer is yes, written in history books, and moving forward in vagrancy. Wandering forward, some people cry, some people laugh, some people fall, some people stand up, but the mighty song continues, stops, moves forward, and perhaps stops in the process. But it doesn't matter, this is real history.

Poets and history are one. Poets will stop when they are tired, and history will continue when it stops. They find their own direction in the interweaving of years and time, and then go further.

The poet is tired, the history is tired, and the soul is tired. It says it wants to rest. Then let it have a rest and find a fulcrum to uncover its miraculous life journey.