Stepping into winter, the atmosphere of worry gradually spreads, time is like a thin curtain gently brushing the face, the years pass in a hurry, and the years are like a song. When the west wind is cold, the guests are scarce, and the silent streets are filled with the sorrow of fallen leaves, thoughts are mixed in my heart.
Looking back on the past, the rouge color has gradually faded, the time of the day and night is irretrievable, the tiredness is deposited in the heart, and the deep winter and the upcoming spring can no longer perceive the ripples. The red clay stove flickered with a faint light, and a piece of elixir was drunk and dyed plain clothes, condensed in the fragrance, making life more quiet and elegant. Holding a heavy pen, I want to write all the gains and losses in the past, but those things have long been overflowing on the paper, and there are few gains and losses, so I can only use a few lines of poetry to express my inner thoughts.
Throughout the Six Dynasties, flowers have danced in time, like the ink-colored paintings of literati and ink artists. Plum blossoms or snowflakes bloom in the cold air, and the style is beautiful and brilliant. The prosperity of the world is like a song and a play, so why indulge yourself in the past time now?Pick up the pen and write the snow scene in the depths of winter, but the words are limited, and I can only use a few words to outline the solidified cold and quiet.
Time flies, and it is difficult to know whether the original intention is still clearly visible. Year after year, year after year, the world alternates between prosperity and prosperity, in this long time, why immerse yourself in the past now?Joy and sorrow are staggered in every inch of time, running through life.