The night wind whispers, the night whispers

The evening wind is warm, spring lightly, the tea in my hand is not warm, the shadow of Chinese rose is withering, a flying insect passes by before my eyes, its transparent wings can shine even by the faint light.Stars quietly change the layout, one after another from the blue and purple curtain, such as the sun setting Angle, closer to the warmth.The wax plum on the flower table listened to my father and said that it was not there overnight. I don’t know if it was pecked by birds. These days, even the delicate fragrance of the white plum has gradually disappeared.Bergamot has been heavy all winter, it should be picked and soaked in water to drink, like a grain of wheat to die, there are countless new buds.Sitting in the night, like a craftsman carving alone by a lonely lamp, the jade is stacked with countless loneliness into a bright.It may have to be buried for a long time, but it will be born at the right time. At that moment, it will be in its golden year of flowers.But I am not a craftsman, love the world more than eyes, not to hide the light in the dark night, rather put all the good pay, every word such as spring breeze sunset clouds, autumn moon and winter frost.Immersed in loneliness, I never feel lonely, that is the profound time of life, almost all profound language is precipitated at the moment.Still waters run deep, and HERE I make my soul transparent, reflecting what I see and think, just as the sun gives beauty to all things without colour.I wish I could read thousands of volumes, to its dregs take its essence;Walk thousands of miles, know its style understand its spirit charm, do not see the hills do not see the peaks of mang fu, not flatter flatter secular people, but the spirit of heaven and earth, keep zhuo raise true, spend a long time, one mind, the floating life.Although the experience of human life, thorns, lost in the wilderness, but “thought” never forgotten, “heart” never discarded, lies can achieve monument but accumulated into a tower, wind and waves in an instant ashes.Only sincere two words, even if the fire burn body, but leave innocence.Tonight the moon refused to come, and the stars were gentle.When I sleep, there is frost.Original prose essays

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