I need, the wildest wind, and the quietest sea.
Gu Cheng
Turn a page of clear poetry fragrance overflowing, you are dense in the dream eyes for a long time do not want to sleep, I really do not know, which is you.
At the time of resounding, I also felt like the thunder from the horizon, which seemed to shake not only your heart, but also the land where you really lived; I also wanted to describe your talent and thoughts with the character of falling into the water. I just can't help but be a little flustered, or melancholy about the distance between the water and the sky; I also wanted to listen to the wind nearby not only about you when I was worried about staring at you for a long time. Just tired, the wind fell.
The bright moonlight in front of the window is full of thoughts all night, and the morning light of glass fills the thoughts of the whole season. But also always miss Ying Quan time gap full of imminent loss of thoughts. The sky is empty and the night is dark. The sky is really empty, you see the eyes full of floating white clouds, or finally falling raindrops, or floating snowflakes, this is the most beautiful sentimentally attached to heaven and earth. And the moonlight and the endless milky way that night. It's night, it's black. It was so dark that we could only see the twinkling sparkle. All to you, to you on the earth, to you full of moonlight, to you full of raindrops.
If the wind, it is coming. You were never afraid to meet. Because he's been there. Or whisper in the ear, or smile between the eyebrows, or fall with the wind beside you. You never stop looking for him, like a child who has never grown up. You don't know the source and you don't have a foothold. Or tired, parked in the dead trees by the roadside, like fallen maple leaves; or tired, leaning against the top of the rosy clouds that are about to go west, like falling clouds, or just want to be quiet, just open your arms and let him take you away; or if you want to go, you are really gone.
If the wind, it is not only a breeze and drizzle, but also longing for the storm. Blowing in the seemingly immature heart, you can see that the dawn also follows midnight. Always waving changes at the beginning and the end. So whether this restless heart can really clarify a little bit, light it up if it is bright, and sink if it is dark. Don't just be once, you're just who you are now.
If the wind, it will always go. I was never afraid to leave. Because I haven't walked in yet. Leave, or when the clouds are about to annihilate the night, let you find the moon that cannot see the face; leave, or when the water plants gradually grow tentacles, let you see the leaves that begin to turn red; leave, or reflect the spring water in his eyes in your eyes, clear, just like the bright moonlight in front of the bed.
-even if it has passed, it will all fall through the wind.
At the moment, the still water runs deep.
In a few words, it seems that it has been a long time. Just looking at this half of the water, quietly into the small pool. Silent spring is to cherish the fine water, the tree shade reflects the surface of the water is it likes the sunny gentle light and warm picture, often floating in the spring eyes of the silent water, fantasize because of love flowing so meticulous. And the small trees near the side are cool and shady, and the half-cast water sparkles like this through the sun and sunshine, so that the heart can make gentle ripples for it, which is also like water, clean and warm.
Quiet, put down, is quiet. If tens of thousands of things are quiet, no disputes and irritability, sober and clear. That is the tranquility after the chase. Silent flowers especially fall, no wind catkins fly by themselves. We should observe the nature of the Dharma, all idealistic creation of Zen, what is given to people is stillness, a mirror of the mind, and a clean fall from the earth. Qingqing is the color of the heart, people say that the heart is red, that artery flow is all red life, but in every inch of skin with countless blue rivers crisscross to form their own, green and undisputed is quiet.
Water, flowing, or still, or dead. Like a man, he maintains a balance between the left and the right, while thinking that it is longer and deeper. But it is based on heaven and earth, or it is the support of heaven and earth, pairwise cycle, endless. It is the past that the source yearns for, and it is the foundation of existence. You, like water, have been looking for the fulcrum that continues your flow.
Flow is the embodiment of the existence of water. You never give up the pursuit, never give up the sorrow under your feet and become your star in the Milky way. It flickers, watching you flow endlessly in his eyes.
Deep, you believe, is. You've never been so awake, when you're still in a dream. You never want to leave, when you really can't find it, you find that you have left early for a long time, you never feel as if you are standing in the tuyere, looking at the direction of the wind on all sides.
If the beauty of the flower falls in the wind, it is like a passing year and a quiet sea. The time recorded by time and light is also included in my bottle which has been hidden for a long time. With the ink covered with flowers crying over the landscape of the four seasons, writing at the sea level at the end of the morning, mountains and rivers, flowers and grass, one person and one shadow, but also a stroke, a circle, a dream to describe meticulous, rough, tender. All I need is the wildest wind and the quietest sea.
Author: Lin Luo
Post a comment