I lowered my eyebrows, and three thousand light smoke lingered in front of me, and the water surface rippled, disturbing my otherwise calm thoughts. Who quietly intruded into my inner world and made my mind cluttered? And who is it in a unique way that touches my deep throbbing and makes it beat in my heart?
The breeze blows lightly, like the fingers of the luthier, gently playing the music of heaven and earth, and the drizzle is like silk, weaving an ode to nature. In the depths of my heart, there seems to be a cheerful stream, which resonates harmoniously with all this, interweaving a sparse and elegant picture of Tianshui. Every wisp of wind, every drop of rain, tells a wordless story.
The breeze and drizzle, like a tender whisper, in those affectionate eyes, like bright stars, instantly lit up the gloom of a long time. The warmth in the eyes is like the warm sun in spring, with its unique tenderness, smoothing out the vicissitudes of the years. The gentleness of that bowed head was like an aged wine, and my inner world was instantly intoxicated.
Youth, like a misty dream, is unpredictable, but deeply fascinating. And the years are a melodious ballad with a soft melody. In this world of dreams and songs, we meet, get acquainted, and each other's hearts collide with each other in resonance.
Every time we look at each other, it is like a warm current flowing in my heart, like a breeze gently blowing across the lake, bringing ripples, gentle and moving. Youth and years are intertwined, we walk with dreams and songs, so that the resonance of the soul becomes the most beautiful scenery.
In the long river of time, I happened to catch a glimpse of those scenery that was gradually drifting away, like an autumn leaf falling gently in the breeze, quietly disappearing at the end of the years. In this ruthless streamer, the broken marks we leave are like a broken mirror, reflecting the bitterness and helplessness of life.
When we gently touch the marks of these years, the desolation and loneliness can't help but hit our hearts, as if we are wandering alone in the barren desert, only the lonely stars and the lonely wind as companions. In this boundless desert, every grain of sand seems to tell the vicissitudes of time and endless loneliness.
Although the road of life is full of thorns, we still need to stop at the prosperity of the world and look into the distance. Perhaps in the cracks of time, there is hidden hope for tomorrow. Only by resolutely overcoming every obstacle can we meet the baptism of dawn.
The years roll forward like a long river, the gold and silver jewelry are fleeting, and the beauty of life is as fleeting as a dream bubble. However, a carefree life is also just a vain pursuit. I hope that in this hurried year, we can hold the hand of time, dance with it, and sing with the years.
In those light years, I walked leisurely on the ancient paths of the red dust, with a deep longing for the clouds in my heart, as if they were dreams in the sky, and I longed to touch this dream with my own hands. I listened to the whispers of time and felt the days I already had, and they slowly bloomed in my heart, like a delicate picture unfolding in front of my eyes.
I feel the vicissitudes of time, and I also appreciate a beautiful warmth flowing in my heart. This beauty, perhaps the softness of those clouds, or the warm sun in the depths of time, they shine in the long river of years, making me feel the infinite possibilities and hope in life.