Joke Collection Website - Talk about mood - Just smell the flowers, don't talk about sadness and joy.
Just smell the flowers, don't talk about sadness and joy.
Happiness is never far away. Looking at a flower on the mountain and picking up a leaf in the forest, snowflakes in winter and drizzle in summer are all simple warmth and happiness. And every inch of my time, I have long been used to living with flowers and plants. Being with them, feeling their heartbeat, breathing and smiling, I don't want to sleep on many soft nights.
Perhaps only in this season of June can green be so arrogant, and the whole world is full of joy, sometimes hills and sometimes grass ponds. Looking for poetry in the criss-crossing fields, taking a nap by the willow green river, walking on a familiar path with muddy feet, carrying a flower hoe on my shoulder and a steel shovel in my hand, I am like Queen Shan Ye, and I can plant a horde with a wave of my hand; Looking back, Jiangshan will let a hundred flowers blossom.
Regardless of the vicissitudes of the world, I really like mountains and rivers and the fragrance of every flower in the wind. There is a small mountain village where I am troubled by dreams. The village among the flowers, like a love poem for you, is beautiful and graceful. I live happily in these fresh poems every day, binding the accumulated time into a thick collection of poems. The breeze, the bright moon and the petals, turning a page casually, all exude a poetic fragrance. It was my most leisurely time, and the wind blew long poems, and the years were fragrant. ...
I have always thought that the best meeting is in the stranger of flowers, the sunshine is just right, the breeze is not dry, and you are just what I like. In the leisure time of vegetation, read poetic seasons and enjoy picturesque scenery; In a person's floating world, only smell the flowers, don't talk about sadness and joy. In the simple and plain time, I just want the moon hidden in my hand, and I just want to spend my skirt. If you are tired of the hustle and bustle of traffic, I am willing to wait for you in the flowers.
In fact, a good poem is hard to come by. Sunrise inkstone, sunset pen, sweat, tears, ups and downs together. All my efforts are only for the belief in my heart, and I will live up to my time and myself. It's better to spend a leisurely time between mountains and rivers, with the wind as the companion, meditating on the flowers and feeling a refreshing time.
It is not the amount of wealth, nor the desire to get drunk, the source of happiness, or the meaning of life. Maybe it's in this graceful lotus and faint orchid. In the freshness and beauty that stretches out from the memory of flowers, I watched the time flow quietly, and the days passed slowly. Clothes are warm, vegetables and rice are full; A good flower and a full moon are enough.
Since, from glaring at fresh clothes to being humiliated, the years can't go back, all of which are attributed to the dullness of a porridge and a meal, then plant a flower for yourself, watch it change in time sequence, watch it open and close, talk about love with life seriously, and talk about love with life well.
Across the mountains and water, across the most beautiful distance in the world. I see a clean beauty on the futon of time; I also saw that along the trace of a flower, we were on our way back in spring. ...
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