How to continue, how to end?

Time is just a wound. It hurts Huaichun and sad autumn. It hurts falling dreams and quiet. The brushwork of youth has been finished, and the hidden worries of prosperity can no longer be continued. For the melodiousness of a car, it is the extravagant hope that I never dare to have. Even if it

Window rain

Spring elimination snow Spring elimination snow, multi-the yao nian, unspoken. Reading from afar, it is just above that snowfield. The snow is really beautiful, after all it is spring… Waiting Waiting is a kind of persistence, sticking to a certain belief and never giving up. Maybe because of a certain commitment, or because of a

Cheer for yourself

Cheer for yourself

1 Like rootless duckweed drifting with the flow, our life is so helpless; Like rustling autumn grass covered with frost, our life is full of cold and hardship; Like humble ants working hard, our lofty sentiments were consumed and submerged. All the young and frivolous people were smashed into dust on the hard flat ground.

Cloud Cirrus shu pin life

In Zhou Guoping’s article “The past in the village of time”, the fairy tale of St. aikesuperi was mentioned. The Little Prince said that what made the desert beautiful was where he hid a well. Mr. Zhou said, I believe that childhood is such a well in the desert of life. People who always carry

Campus, garden, orchard

In the golden autumn season, I drove to Xi’an school which I had covered. Firstly, it was just the beginning of school, and I went to visit the leaders and teachers of the school; Secondly, some work needed to be further implemented. In the autumn morning, the wind is light and cool. The blue sky

Spirit in Flash

Friends, listen carefully, what is that voice? As if coming from the center of the Earth, through the desert, through the grassland, through the hills, through the wilderness, through the long time and space, resounding through the sky above us, the magical and complicated rhythm interlaced, the indescribable vitality is proving its existence. Is this

Rural Chronicle (iv) the depth of residual Lotus

It was dry and thin, with pale yellow leaves. The water in the pond had almost dried up. It was not long before I walked along the familiar straw stem. The red leaves and green leaves in the past had become my memory. Is it autumn? Indulged in the quiet of the countryside, with green