The so-called once, the so-called happiness
Editor's Note: This is the first prose poem, writing a new love and marriage, written in bold and simple, full of philosophy.
Always thought that happiness in the distance, you can pursue in the future. However, she found that those who embrace people, holding the hand over, sang songs, the tears flow, loved the people, the so-called once, is happiness. In the numerous night, had said, called the phone, thinking over the people, the tears flow ... to see or not see the move, we have been, and then the shuttle in time, everything has become eternal!
- Inscription
Aquarius woman is unintentional
Feelings can be faster to go faster
Happy and not happy, no boundaries
Ye Hao days of chaos, brilliant Ye Hao
Mingled with the crowd does not matter in the smoke rings and perfume
Say, what can not be said?
To do, what not to do?
But life is so, why so serious
No more ups and downs of happy and not
Even if the mistake is that I, and very calmly accepted
Angry than live up to expectations
Explanation is to cover up
Lots of times
Would rather let a guilty conscience of the people with the cool quiet shut
If the separation, your face is warm, I am willing to tears with soul and you only exchange
A quiet ending
In the dark to see his heart, like the circling of the leafless
No attitude, no temperature, no pain, no life
But peace
If the separation, your promise is warm, I would like to use the life-long effort to exchange students only
A quiet end, was not destined to be forgotten
In life, see their tender cheeks
Qingchan hands, slightly squinting God
No tears, no outrightly
But peace
Not who held his hand, I must have you on the road
Not to kiss a pupil of the eye, and my eyes must have you on CD
Not because I love you, I have to give yourself the yoke
Not because of a "love got a million species, only a strong feeling," I should do, "hold your hand, and grow old with you"
People who claim to love me
Shallow apology when I turned around to give a sentence
Hope you will have well
2011年1月4日星期二
2011, Xu I am not dying of a spring! .
2011, Xu I am not dying of a spring!
.
Century, the late light tone, not the gorgeous love. Can not clean up everything all packed up, shake off the tears will never dry, erase all traces of the strangers, bid farewell to the past, bid farewell to the old days of the clouds!
- "Inscription"
【Morning - met】
Today regarded as the first day of work after the New Year right, the sky is blue how clouds look pale, cold air, the pale clouds, cold pressing of the wind, rolled layers of Si Yi scattered horizon.
In this hurried way to work, almost every morning, I saw the crowd at the strange, and I take the same route of a boy. A boy looks a bit cold, he always stood in a corner inside, quietly looking out the window, quietly listening to the song. As if this world, all people are busy coming and going, only he, quietly living in their own world. When my eyes swept clean, handsome face goes on, just to see him look back over the eyes, standing face to face moment, could not help some slight smile, he froze for a few seconds, and then also cast a smile. So, do we have known each other for it.
A beautiful Xinchan meet, meet in the winter, met in the subway.
【Afternoon - warm】
Quiet afternoon, bathed in the warm sun illuminating as heavenly smile, a trace of warmth rising from the bottom of my heart.
Finally, some plan to do the project completed, to their own cups of tea steep, Hong yu taste. Hands holding tea, hot, sweet, a small and a small mouth of the Min Zhao, tea warming my throat, warm my heart.
Rise like never touched a child warm. Efforts to see to experience the sun to breathe the warmth of the sun. Efforts to change everything.
A man accustomed to the quiet songs, song cycles with so few lyrics are familiar tone, hear is the lonely heart and years of screaming.
Like the simple life, a person, a cup of tea, a song, think of a number of incidents, some people miss, and not imagine some remote dream. No matter how beautiful the agreement was, how true, after all, the past has passed, only the most beautiful everlasting memories ...
.
Century, the late light tone, not the gorgeous love. Can not clean up everything all packed up, shake off the tears will never dry, erase all traces of the strangers, bid farewell to the past, bid farewell to the old days of the clouds!
- "Inscription"
【Morning - met】
Today regarded as the first day of work after the New Year right, the sky is blue how clouds look pale, cold air, the pale clouds, cold pressing of the wind, rolled layers of Si Yi scattered horizon.
In this hurried way to work, almost every morning, I saw the crowd at the strange, and I take the same route of a boy. A boy looks a bit cold, he always stood in a corner inside, quietly looking out the window, quietly listening to the song. As if this world, all people are busy coming and going, only he, quietly living in their own world. When my eyes swept clean, handsome face goes on, just to see him look back over the eyes, standing face to face moment, could not help some slight smile, he froze for a few seconds, and then also cast a smile. So, do we have known each other for it.
A beautiful Xinchan meet, meet in the winter, met in the subway.
【Afternoon - warm】
Quiet afternoon, bathed in the warm sun illuminating as heavenly smile, a trace of warmth rising from the bottom of my heart.
Finally, some plan to do the project completed, to their own cups of tea steep, Hong yu taste. Hands holding tea, hot, sweet, a small and a small mouth of the Min Zhao, tea warming my throat, warm my heart.
Rise like never touched a child warm. Efforts to see to experience the sun to breathe the warmth of the sun. Efforts to change everything.
A man accustomed to the quiet songs, song cycles with so few lyrics are familiar tone, hear is the lonely heart and years of screaming.
Like the simple life, a person, a cup of tea, a song, think of a number of incidents, some people miss, and not imagine some remote dream. No matter how beautiful the agreement was, how true, after all, the past has passed, only the most beautiful everlasting memories ...
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Ancient river flowing tears of the old
Ancient river flowing tears of the old
Drop off flowers, floating gently in the water. The long summer of my time, the water reflection.
Song of the day, such as glazed cotton, I do not know the confusion of life. The terrible night. I am not alone in his way. Lasts from the reddish color of the evening, to suddenly be the wind under the dim light splashes of water vapor. I'm stuck in the accumulation of a thousand miles above the Bay of tears puddle.
Age-old wind chill to the hopeless pathos scrapings of rain overnight. A child of the old calendar is so Chanchanmianmian March, so I do not much surprised. Not only in the past travelers anxious to find a safe living hurried to the premises. This makes me very amazing. To share this piece of manna temporarily, I leave things around, open the window listening to the rain. We are the river people, it will stop waiting for the blacksmith's talk of the town went to bed at the hands of the living. Is often associated with the yarn car Zhi Ya sound sleep early.
They control the streets which look like small rain shower. Then my grandparents generation of farming fields, white egrets not grow wings. Rain at night, also stopped at my loss of sleep where. Wake up, but also a desolate scene of midnight. Then wet day feeling like I eat a pastry puff. Abnormal yearning after sunset in the dusk of people chase away the shadow of monkey.
People often say, Wang Yang water is used in its two sides gently raise people's. The crop is very little water, but water is at most of the others have at most. Our Story Street to the farms is not the beginning, have to take it as the end of the. Mo pure real old river songs. Old tears nourish a rich soil. I do not to cry for fun, have to a sad song for the pleasure of the displaced....
Drop off flowers, floating gently in the water. The long summer of my time, the water reflection.
Song of the day, such as glazed cotton, I do not know the confusion of life. The terrible night. I am not alone in his way. Lasts from the reddish color of the evening, to suddenly be the wind under the dim light splashes of water vapor. I'm stuck in the accumulation of a thousand miles above the Bay of tears puddle.
Age-old wind chill to the hopeless pathos scrapings of rain overnight. A child of the old calendar is so Chanchanmianmian March, so I do not much surprised. Not only in the past travelers anxious to find a safe living hurried to the premises. This makes me very amazing. To share this piece of manna temporarily, I leave things around, open the window listening to the rain. We are the river people, it will stop waiting for the blacksmith's talk of the town went to bed at the hands of the living. Is often associated with the yarn car Zhi Ya sound sleep early.
They control the streets which look like small rain shower. Then my grandparents generation of farming fields, white egrets not grow wings. Rain at night, also stopped at my loss of sleep where. Wake up, but also a desolate scene of midnight. Then wet day feeling like I eat a pastry puff. Abnormal yearning after sunset in the dusk of people chase away the shadow of monkey.
People often say, Wang Yang water is used in its two sides gently raise people's. The crop is very little water, but water is at most of the others have at most. Our Story Street to the farms is not the beginning, have to take it as the end of the. Mo pure real old river songs. Old tears nourish a rich soil. I do not to cry for fun, have to a sad song for the pleasure of the displaced....
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