A silk cut time, write a poem of old words, between the lines, in the leisure environment, including the whistle Lei Ju love, read in the eyes, it is a story, read in the past, it is a heart, read in the years, is a forest Jinghao.
The long, blowing not sad most fans eyes, do not turn the chapters most easily broken, the sky was clear, as far as the people who recall in the river floor. Who is left alone in the window, with the fragrant surplus sleeve, the Indus evening drizzle, fall thinner than the yellow text, Yuyuehuanxiu? Who is in the autumn wind sad picture fan midnight, plum Fife falls, in the sound of life is heartbroken? Who, because of the understanding, covered with a kind of mercy, because of the well, from the dust opened a flower, and from the flower in a lifetime of loneliness?
Gone, the vine like growth of sadness, the nearly broken view. But time, quietly left the statue poem back, in every line of the poem after pouring fell dejected, opened a road built a dike scenery fragrance. The scenery is the time carefully brewed a pot of wine, at an appropriate time to open the appropriate place, will be full of fragrance. Yes, the four seasons change the rhythm of a person, often used the opening season of joy, spring bloom, taxuexinmei, habits that a growing melodious and prosperous, lotus pond, Wanzhao Fenglin, and most can not be ignored is often a silence that intoxicating, a blank, or even just a pause and silence on a piece of light music, the music, because they are not only to attract more, is in the heart to titillate like stream gurgling, Liaobo that in the days of a vivid.
Without words, the total precipitation in the story, the aftertaste is sublimation in precipitation. A painting for life, there are too many paintings and ink contains too many bittersweet tone. Not see the background, there is no need to end a life that a landscape, has all the vicissitudes of life story of the past, also wash light days flat Zeze, painted on a wild heart become calm, a quiet. Sorrow will melt in the tranquil mind flow into clear water will be bumpy Qingxi, freeze, in memory of the distant line depicting the waterfront. In the face of the colorful life, searching, the concentrated in a short word, open your heart, found that many of the past, only the streamer whispers, what choice, itself is a solution, how to answer, itself is a pure water, three thousand, yipiao, but as the universe of 1,000,000,000 universes, Jane on.
Inadvertently, time hidden in the warm, like a wisp of breeze, blowing the idle gaps, never fall into the courtyard. Many things go into the back, how many back engraved into the memory, bit by bit, the temperature of text so that the memories of the poetic. Childhood play away, then turn the page, but it seems to smoke gone backwards; the hometown, the shore scenery, could reproduce in the accent. Some of the stories have many details are reduced to fragments, wash clean, simple, warm every inch of time, warm and the friendship love.
Contact: Andrew Zeng
Add: No.102 Haicang District, Xiamen City Fujian Province of China