Six beautiful lyric essays

In the long river of life, don't just look up and walk, sometimes look down and the scenery is at your feet. The following are six beautiful lyric essays I collected for you. Welcome to learn from them.

Lyric Prose (1): Recalling the past

I thought these were old, shredded and thrown into the wind. However, you are such a magical magician. With a wave of your hand, you made a vivid picture of everything and put it back in my mind.

? Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.

Searching, loneliness, sadness, pain. In the soft moonlight, until I raised my cup, I asked Mingyue to bow her head, meditate and stare. Everything is as silent as death, and rushing thoughts come in, thinking, remembering and singing in my mind over and over again?

I can't help but recall the past, how many joys and sorrows, how many laughter, how many romantic times, everything is a gift of luck. In the long river of memory, I stretched out my tender hands to grasp the last tail and gave me a knowing smile when I suddenly looked back.

Looking back on the past, recalling the high fighting spirit of "One day I will climb the wind and break the waves and connect Yun Fan with the sea", before, at that moment of struggle, before, at that painful moment, before, at that moment of sprint? However, who shouted loudly in the storm: "Let the storm come more violently", and who roared loudly in the storm: "Hungry to eat pork, laughing and thirsty to drink Hun blood"? I used to sweat like rain in adversity, and I used to meet the rainbow in adversity; "Recall that the hectares were magnificent. Look at that vast land, who is in charge of ups and downs! " In my memory, I clenched my fists and rang the bell of struggle at that last moment?

Recalling the past, recalling the wanderer's mood "Looking up, I found it was moonlight, and then sinking back, I suddenly thought of home". Wandering in TA Township, a wanderer was holding a thin horse forehand. In the cool breeze, he whispered "I will think of you in a floating cloud, and the sunset is so affectionate". His feelings suddenly came to life, from the former family's pro-Ni, voice, warmth, once. "The old vine is a faint crow, the small bridge is flowing, and the Nijia ancient road is thin?" At noon, I seem to hear the call of home. In my loneliness, I once again saw "home". I have no luxurious appearance, but I have the warmth of a wanderer. The concern of "thread in the hands of a kind-hearted mother makes clothes for her wayward son's body" calmed me down. In my memory, I reach out my hands to touch my world?

Looking back on the past, I recall the golden time when "teenagers don't know the taste of sorrow, fall in love with stories and stories, and emphasize sorrow in order to give new words to modern poetry", "there is no doubt in their ears, and there is no case", and everything is in the comfort of "picking chrysanthemums under the east fence and seeing Nanshan leisurely"; Before, I looked up at the starry sky and told my friends the secret words of my youth. Before, I enjoyed the warmth of love and sang under the banyan tree by the pond, knowing that birds were chirping in summer? ",day after day, happy days are always so short. In memory, I stopped to watch and capture the real smiling face that day.

Recall the past?

Think of the romance of "Saint Zhuangzi daydreaming, bewitched by butterflies, and cuckoo crowing by emperors";

Recall the frustration of "but since the water is still flowing, even though we cut it with a sword, sadness is still flowing, even though we drown them with wine";

Recalling the optimism that "this matter is ancient and difficult, I hope it will last for a long time, and it will take a thousand miles a day";

Do you remember?

In memory, we feel the romantic past; In memory, we listen to the secret language of youth; In memory, are we mature?

The spring breeze of memories sent a poem: Ten years of life and death are boundless, incredible and unforgettable. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, a bleak place to talk, even if you meet, you should not know each other, your face is covered with dust and your temples are like frost. At night, I dreamed that I suddenly came home. The window of Xiao Xuan was dressing up, silently caring for each other, and tears flowed thousands of times, which made my heart ache every year.

Lyric Prose (2): It hurts a little and I can't share it with you.

I used to think that as long as my life was strong enough, I could go beyond the barriers and stand in front of you like a hero, brave and fearless, despite the pain and injury.

It turned out that this idea was wrong? Some pains are only suitable for swallowing, thinking alone and chewing silently. I can't tell anyone, nor can I share it with anyone.

Not all the time is stormy as usual, and not all the time is sunny as usual. Clouds are in the sky and water is in the sea. Even in the same sky, there will be a difference between sunny and rainy days.

In the warm spring breeze, we can only feel the faint light in the morning sun and the warmth on the ground, but we can't feel the darkness and cold from the other side of the world.

In the coming dusk, we can only touch the edge of our eyes once when the color is about to disappear. We will miss the dust-free, and the next storm will definitely prevent us from keeping our romantic determination.

The word "empathy" is too idealistic. No matter how colorful and bitter you are, you will never understand the pain without really experiencing it.

There are some pains that we will never understand.

The fish in the deep sea, with tears, swam farther to the boundless sea. It was not until its tears, mixed with the sea water, blurred, drifted and blurred that the sea understood its sadness.

From then on, the smile on the fish's face is behind an excessive pain.

Moss in the corner, hiding in the place where the dream collapsed, green hills as curtains, rivers walking together, hard to choose to build another dream, close to spring. However, in spring, I never realized how sad and affectionate moss grows, in order to erase too many scars left by it in the whistling of the north wind.

And the pain of moss, only oneself silently bear.

The lonely goose in the empty mountain resolutely abandoned the mountain forest and chose to compete with fate and fly to a broader sky. However, life is lonely, crazy and stinging. Life is lonely, and its progress and exploration are constantly blown away by the wind and the moon, and it is constantly ruthlessly hit by reality.

Lonely geese will eventually land, return to the original starting point, return to the place where they left, and return to the nest.

Its repeated wandering journeys are not all crowded with people, and too many endings are lonely. The middle process will be long and painful.

And some pain can only be firmly pressed in the bottom of my heart and cannot be shared.

Time and space is the ferry of pain, and sharing is the wound of time and space.

Everything, without exception, has an abyss, without exception, shadow, fleeting time, mud, moss, heartbeat, rainy season? I hope we can plant a kind of past and be quiet inside.

Don't treat everything as a practice, whether it is sweet or bitter, happy or sad, you should try to get used to despair, sadness, pain and light clouds and light winds.

Ignore the pain, remember the happiness, and forget it slowly. Deep struggle, let it be buried in the invisible depths forever, gradually fade away and disappear.

Snow in the mountains, window in the dream. Since then, it has been a sequence.

Lyric Prose (3): Those years, those missed?

The sky is still that sky, the city is still that city, but youth is gone, and it is no longer the same.

? Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.

Flying youth and flamboyant personality, we "post-90 s" dominate the world and catch the last bus of "post-90 s", but we don't know whether to be lucky or sorry. After 90, we are rebellious and fashionable. We are "unfilial sons" in the eyes of parents, "problem students" in the eyes of teachers and "delinquent teenagers" in the eyes of society. All this is just because we are too pursuing individuality.

After 90, I don't want to take the road that others have taken, and I don't want to repeat other people's lives. I just want to have a wonderful high live in my short life journey. No one understands, no one supports, but at that sensitive age, we are the only ones who are fighting alone after 90.

15 years old, the same age as flowers, but we began to mature slowly, no longer deviating from the track of the world and strolling with the world. Mature we have learned to refuse, cherish, be indifferent and heartless.

Standing on the side of the road, staring at the pedestrians coming and going in a daze, looking at them after 00, I suddenly realized that we were young and crazy before, and our young appearance was gradually reflected in our minds and we felt tired. Yes, we are old, as old as flowers. Ignoring the facts has declared that the era of impulsiveness is over. We used to be so chic, but that was before.

The moment I entered high school, I suddenly felt that it was time for us to grow up. Therefore, overnight, from the unruly teenager to the clever and sensible face, no one wants to believe that this is the post-90 s who once "did not do evil." Yes, because we don't do evil, God requires us to grow up and mature as soon as possible. God didn't give us a flower season, but gave me a sultry rainy season at the age of 15.

In those years, we met on the road of music; In those years, we met on a racing trip. In the end, we didn't fight against fate, but we met in a cultural journey. Looking up at the starry sky and recalling our past, we suddenly felt blue. In this way, we gave up our dreams easily. The post-90s generation is a miracle of the world and is still a slave to learning.

Looking at the fashion after 00, I still can't help laughing, as if I saw myself at the beginning, just expecting them to stick to their dreams and cross the shackles of fate.

The scenery missed in those years can only be memories. We recall the past, only to find that everything has become a memory.

Backlit face hides the tears in my eyes. After 90, we are stupid and persistent.

Lyric Prose (4): This is life.

It's cold in winter, and you can see the vertical and horizontal snow and ice. This is the world in the north, and it is also the bitterness in life. If it is winter in the south, it is impossible to catch a cold, but those cold and gloomy are pervasive and lingering; If you don't pay attention, you will see surprises, because careful people will find that the winding of spring keeps spinning and lingering, and then the face of spring unfolds. The north is surprised by the agitation of the years, but also by the wandering of the years, and also wants to let the cold freeze the years and make life no longer vacant; The southern world, however, is surprised by the arrival of spring, and will inadvertently see it wandering, because this is the expectation of life and confusion.

It's expectation, it's life seeing the flowers of the future; And confused, because the years have solidified or so, cold and heartless, and so quiet. In the rustling air, I began to be hazy, began to think and began to be confused about life. In fact, it depends on what kind of life we choose, what kind of hope we will have and what kind of confusion we will have. This has little to do with the environment in which we live, but much to do with our mental journey and mentality. This is the confusion of our life and the memory of our life.

Even if we live in a hot summer, we will feel the coolness of summer when we think about ice and snow. Even if we live in ice and snow, we think about summer and those hot weather, we will feel the urgency of summer and the time limit. This is our choice, and it will be speculation in our life. This is our life, our dreams, our life expectations and the restlessness of those years.

Everyone will experience disappointment. At this time, we will continue to walk, or stop to look at the road under our feet. This is our choice, either to remain silent or to continue to feel that this is a rare loneliness. However, whether we like it or not, we can look up and see that the years are constantly winding. If we dwell too much on these setbacks, we may be abandoned by fate, leaving us crying. If you can remember your previous pride, you will not be so entangled in your own frustrations, and you will feel that life is so sweet.

The journey of life, we just walk forward. It is very likely that we will go into complacency, but at this time, we should think of the previous tears and the previous tiredness. In the past, in a certain period of time, we were accompanied by infinite pain; We are ruthlessly hit by the waves of life and constantly attacked by the frost of the years. Then, even if we walk on the road paved with gold bricks, we will have no opinions, and we will wander like a constant, because we can't see expectations. And we still keep falling, without pride, just because we fall, we will cry, those who are tortured by life. Because this is life itself, and this is what makes us profound.

The choice of life is always full of anxiety, but it will also be accompanied by distress in the heart and smile in the heart. The pride of life and the frustration of life all need our response, and our destinies are intertwined. We can't tell the story of time, but we can show the persistence of time. When we are frustrated, we should think of something we are proud of, which will let us continue to have a brave heart; When we are proud, we should touch the scars on our bodies to keep us awake. This is life.

Lyric Prose (V): Memorizing

Memory is like a thick book, recording our bits and pieces. And memory is to open a book and savor the joys and sorrows of the past time. I opened the book, and every page was flat and tidy, but one page was slightly wrinkled, which made my mind reproduce the scene of that year.

That summer vacation, I fell in love with listening to music on DVD inexplicably, but I lacked some good CDs, so I stepped into the door of a video store that I had never been to in my life. Although this shop is not very big, it is clean, which is my first impression. After entering, three rows of cabinets came into view. There are many neatly arranged CD boxes on each cabinet. I found that the person sitting at the cashier was not the older man and woman I imagined, but a girl about my age. The girl has long shawl, fine features, fair skin and delicate facial features. When she saw me come in, she was slightly startled, as if wondering how people my age would come to this store. But she reacted quickly and smiled at me. Her smile gives people a very clean feeling. Out of politeness, I smiled back at her and went in. At present, few people listen to songs on DVD, and most of them listen to them directly on their mobile phones, so there are few people in the video store, and I am very happy. I will take this area as my own site and choose it for about half an hour. I accidentally glanced at the cashier and found that she was looking out the door with her chin in her hand, not knowing what she was thinking. I picked up the CD and walked up to her. She carefully wrapped it for me, and I said thank you. She said without looking up, "You're welcome."

I go almost every three days. At first, I had little communication with her, but sometimes when I choose, several people come in, I look over and sometimes I look at her. We smiled at each other and went our separate ways. Until one time, she said to me, "Do you like music very much?" I asked her, "Why do you ask?" "You come almost every three days." "I like listening to music." "You like to be alone, right? I often see you staring at the cover alone. " "Don't you often stare at the scenery outside in a daze?" We chatted and chatted, and there was a feeling of meeting each other for a long time. After getting to know her, I found that she is a bit sentimental and has few friends. I often make fun of her: "Are there many boys chasing you on campus?" She said reproachfully, "No." "Can't you? So delicate that no one chased her? This is unscientific. " "Hum, they are all boys who look at other people's looks like you." I am speechless. When she saw that I was silent, she thought I was angry and said, "Angry? Don't be angry, I don't have many friends. You are the person I know best these days. " "How can you be angry? You are also my most familiar stranger. "

Although we are familiar with each other, we have never asked each other anything as if we had a tacit understanding. She is a girl who loves to laugh. Her smile is very clean, as clean as unpolluted natural white dye, and can't be stained with a spark. I thought we could go on like this, but she left. That day, she said to me, "I'm leaving." My parents are taking me to Shenzhen, and I will only come back during the summer vacation. "I listened and said," Do you want to come back? ""maybe. "This is our last conversation. With that, she got on the bus and waved to me. I haven't seen her since. She appeared in my life like a flash in the pan.

This reminds me of Eason Chan's elimination: "Our memory is not wrinkled, but your departure burned that period."

Lyric Prose (6): Time has always been gentle to us.

At present, I am washed again and again in the hourglass, and I am black and blue. I still want to stick to it, get rid of your clutches and accept your rampant corrosion in the days without your company.

In the sense of time, there is our infatuation, in the drizzle, there are young times that we can't go back, and in the melancholy sleep, there are endless tears. In the past, we were tender by the warm time in the years.

You gave me a different world. An unexpected turning point has given me a clear direction for every step of the unknown future, wandering in the past years and shouting desperately towards the distance. Wandering in your remaining figure, lonely and helpless wandering in your previous memory, waiting for the cruel years, waiting for the disappearance of vows, waiting for the disappearance of a fate, waiting for you to completely cross my world, waiting for the end of a life, waiting for an era without you.

There are still bits and pieces of us together in the mobile phone, photos, conversations and circle of friends? It's the footprint we created together. You accompany me to travel, I accompany you to explore the starry sky, you give me the beauty of youth, and I give you the quiet beauty of years. You stare affectionately, and I look back safely. Holding hands at the ends of the earth is our most precious yearning for each other. Perhaps, we don't think too much, but simply want to be with each other. Life is a long road, and we step out of our own life step by step.

Happiness is just a flash in the pan, passing by in a hurry. You are just a meteor in my world, a flash of fireworks, but you hold my persistent heart deeply and bury it silently with the last ray of light.

Today, the happiness in the photo is still full of peace, and you still smile happily, but I can only pay homage to this wandering feeling in the long years, and we are no longer the same. Even if you delete the past in your mobile phone, everything is related to you, and your worries can't be deleted. You who have been gentle in time always reverberate in the most fragile heart, piercing the deep feeling of missing and giving up.

In the past, we bathed in happy time together. Now, I am washed again and again in the hourglass, and I am black and blue all over. I have to persist desperately, get rid of your clutches, and accept your rampant corrosion in the days without your company.