The favor of spring is like a festival of revival of all things, I love its freshness and vitality, but I can't avoid its sensitivity and awe.
Whenever a hundred flowers compete and spring is full of joy, my heart often lingers with the echo of the empty valley, and the feeling of loneliness is like autumn. It was an indescribable loneliness, as if behind the prosperity of spring, there was a trace of autumn night cold, quietly climbing in my heart, triggering endless thoughts and feelings.
All things in the world, all living beings, for me, are like a dream, bright and short. In the blooming scenery of spring, I seem to see my own tiny and pale, like a lonely boat swallowed by the surging crowd, walking alone on the edge of the world, how can I not be touched by this, how can I not give birth to that inexplicable loss and confusion?
I know that this subtle emotion may not be understood by anyone, it is rooted and spread in the bottom of my heart, but it becomes more and more vivid when I face the spring scene alone. However, I did not sink because of this, but looked at the prosperity and loneliness of this world more soberly.
One person, one chair and one pot of tea, leisurely watching the falling flowers in the forest. "I am immersed in this unique tranquility, allowing the years to flow at my fingertips, and every drop of tea fragrance and every petal of a flower has become a medium for me to dialogue with the world.
The pen and ink are fragrant, a pen and an inkstone, I put my heart on the painting, the thoughts into the poem, those dreams with whom, it is not important, the important thing is that in this piece of spring, I found myself, found the way to dance with the world.
I walk alone in the crowd, but I am not alone, because my heart is full of understanding and respect for life, this sobriety, so that I can see both prosperity and loneliness in the spring light, both the joy of appreciating the beautiful scenery, and the calmness of dissecting the hot and cold state of the world.
In the hustle and bustle of the world, maintain an indifferent sobriety and sassiness, like the poet sitting alone in the forest, in his own way, dialogue with the world, dialogue with himself, dialogue with the years.