Walking alone by the sea, I thought it was destiny takes a hand, but the leaves of acacia slipped from your fingers, just like the fate of the sky, and in the retrospect of your youth, they shone into the most beautiful vision.
At the moment when I was speechless, a candle that lit up my humble room swayed on the branches of life. I finally saw the wings of an angel and heard the sound of flowers blooming.
In the days when the world was shrouded, I left you dreams and pursuits, laughter and tears, and half of me, regardless of the ravines and thorns.
After experiencing emotional attachment and life embarrassment, in order to save your destiny, you resolutely embarked on the road of studying. On the day of parting with you, the monsoon is still drifting away from the original grass, and your trudging steps are blurred in the tears left in my eyes.
In my impression, it is a famous southern school admired by thousands of students. You have no relatives, no dependence, only thick books and the hardships of studying for a doctorate. I'm worried that your loneliness and stubbornness will cause you endless pain, and I'm even more worried that your thinness and tenacity will overdraw your young life.
I know I can't stop your longing, your yearning, your interpretation of life and your pursuit of a better future. I pray for you devoutly every day and bless you silently. I believe you will never ignore my advice and my concern. If all prayers and blessings can't bring you happiness and peace, I will face the sea on the precipice of the rocky coast and leave my collection of poems as my last gift to the world.
In the days without you, I often think of the end or origin of life, which is a deep place that is everywhere, far away from the noise and can rest quietly. Born in Sri Lanka, buried in Sri Lanka, destination and origin are the same place. People will die step by step when they are born. No matter whether they are vigorous or unknown, they can't choose and escape.
From this, I understand why some things we have never experienced will make us feel deja vu. It turns out that we have experienced it in previous lives, such as love, such as hate, such as poetry and dance. There are footprints of our lives everywhere, and ancient wild chrysanthemums are blooming on both sides of every road.
The longing for you is like the longing for wormwood in May, igniting every fresh day and going barefoot for an outing under your warm gaze. Miss you, so after a period of time, with a long miss, but also reveal a touch of sadness. I thought so more than once. Why do the tears hanging on your cheeks always wet your eyes? Why does my heart always hurt when you leave in a hurry?
So I'm just a canoe on your sea. Your gentle shaking is gentle, your shallow singing is gentle, your violent bumps are gentle, and even your crazy rolling is gentle. And I, a canoe with nowhere to tie the rope, am destined to drift on your sea until one day, I sink into the tenderness of your sea.
The moon is as calm as water. The cliff with a yearning heart grows wildly. At this time, unforgettable memories pour out from the cave wall, showing an irresistible landscape. The mossy stone road is engraved with first-order memories. The grass and trees in front of the hut are saturated with layers of thoughts, and the road ahead always has a charming traction full of happiness.
Through the shutters, my sad eyes are looking for your distant back, just like my missing hand, quietly touching the sour and sweet memory.
Many times, it is so uneasy to miss your distant footsteps. Every time at this moment, in some cold thoughts, your shadow fills the air. Wake up, your shadow is at the window; Wash your face, your shadow is in the water; Gaze, your shadow is in your heart; Pen, your shadow is between the lines.
I am looking forward to your return. Your footsteps pass through my heart, your songs haunt my sleepless nights, and your tenderness occupies all my space.
Hide the sound in your memory and listen quietly when you miss it; Plant your smile on the heart wall and bloom bright colors in the days of concern; Embedding your eyes in my childhood photo frame, let the tide of love drown all emotions and words before dawn and night.
I always stare at the intersection where the wind comes, and my thoughts turn around in the low-altitude rain and the haze in the high sky, but I miss you so much.
There is lush grass in the pupil, but the lonely boat I miss drifts wantonly to the direction of summer and glides through the ups and downs of seasonal rivers.
With you, I hope the world will not stop my hope for you because of darkness. Even if there is darkness, I still stubbornly meditate: when the lights are as bright as dreams, it must be your hazy figure that emerges in front of my eyes.
Without you, my sadness hangs over every corner like a locust, turning my thoughts into a faint bitter wine; Leaving your years, my sadness overflowed the waiting bank like the tide.
The eyes are all through, and the ground is full of sadness. Looking back on Changting's parting in autumn night, I find that you have never gone far, and you have been living in my eyelashes. It turns out that you are my tears in previous lives and the waiting time in this life.
Spring of 2006