Smell the time carefully, drink the time lightly

When the showers have just stopped, the flowers are intoxicating, giving their beauty a brief moment of preciousness, attracting crowds of people from south to north, just to have a glimpse of the beauty of the world.

The spring breeze is strong at the beginning, with little ripples. The light and shadow hide the years without leaving a trace, urging the prosperity to drop the wind and flow away with the water, but you can’t see the end of the setting sun. Is there a flower grave that absorbs the warmth and coldness of the world? .

The moon is rising at the beginning, and the fireworks are getting colder. Watching a night cherry blossom, leaving a little prosperity in vain, just drinking a pot of tea brewed by time, recalling the lingering moment, and the Zen feeling in the ups and downs. If you don't wake up from your obsessions, there are always some things you can't let go of, spread out in the unrequited desire.

It turns out that the colorful purples and reds that we can’t find everywhere have been taken away by time long ago, leaving only broken walls and desolate steps. Can't live.

Prosperity is beautiful, it is the spring light and the beauty of the sky; it is the summer night and the gentle breeze blows; it is the autumn colors and the forests are dyed; it is the winter day and the vastness is like a roll.

Prosperity is short, the seasons are like a stream, the ups and downs change, the four seasons alternate, and the passing away is like this, never leaving day and night, birth and death, never lasting.

Prosperity is like a flower blooming overnight, a tree blooming, and a cluster of fragrance, but it is scattered by a night rain, leaving the ground in a mess, like a crushed heart that has never been restored.

Some people travel through mountains and rivers, only to see ruins everywhere. They are abandoned by prosperity before being surrounded by it. It is inevitable that they will borrow a pot of turbid wine to soak their regrets, drink the bitterness, and wring out their tender intestines to gain happiness. A drop of tears of lovesickness turns into an eternal poem;

Some people meet by chance and are deeply intoxicated by tenderness, but they don’t know that the dream of prosperity is the most fragile, and all the twists and turns are just a moment of greed. , as a passer-by;

Some people have gone through twists and turns, seeing the final bloom in the spring breeze in the building, and lamenting the decline of their lives in the cold rain all night. It turns out that all they have is to lose in the end .

Nothing lasts forever. Moment and eternity alternate in a single thought.

Instead of crying while hugging the debris, it is better to bury the flowers and leaves into the soil, carve the essence into poetry and paintings, and wait for the next season to be fragrant and surrounded by reincarnation.

Cherish when things are good and be merciful when they are gone.

Time should be smelled carefully, bit by bit; time should be drunk lightly, no need to be too lingering.