Old Time, qi luo xiang

The sky is empty in June, sometimes white clouds are like floc, and sometimes rain drops. My mood is half bright and half sad. The clouds float lightly, and the lilac flowers are strong. Light purple, white umbrella-shaped flower balls, cluster on the branches. The bustling flowering period was crowded with clothes of early summer. When the wind blows, the faint fragrance is like the fabulous Rouge emitted from the ten li red makeup of whose daughter is married, which makes people smell it again and again, but it is not enough. Those were a few innocent children. The flying skirt was covered with the fragrance of flowers on the sleeves. Under the lilac tree, flowers were counted one by one. In the depth of their black eyes, I saw the other shore of the years, and my distant childhood was standing with sadness. The spring breeze blows, the spring breeze blows, the swallow blows and the Frog wakes up. Spring breeze blows, spring breeze blows, Green Willow, red peach blossom. Come and plant castor beans. Come and plant sunflower. This was a text when I was in the first grade of primary school. It was also such an afternoon that the sunshine was tranquil and beautiful. Elegant lilac, swaying dreamy color, I read over and over again: spring breeze blows, spring breeze blows. Until every word is familiar with the heart. I have been keeping my memory for so long, but I still keep thinking about it. In fact, the grass has been yellow and green for 25 years. Many things in the mortal world have already been messy. Some people and things have also fallen with flowers, leaving no dark fragrance. However, this sentence in childhood: spring breeze blows, spring breeze blows. But in the story of time, it is particularly eye-catching. Because, it is a microcosm of my happy childhood, and it frames the purest brilliance in my life. Today, clove is still bright, and the sky is still like washing. In my memory, I used the temperature of blood to let the spring breeze blow on my fingertips. And I murmured in my heart: the time I can never go back is called childhood. The second summer is coming, the rain is misty and the Willows are blowing in the wind. Organize clothes, fold, collect and give up. This process is simple, but it shows the coming and going of the golden age. A knee-high blue dress, simple style, with only two lilies at the skirt corner. It is lined with blue and white, with more charming style. I extremely like it. That year, in the twilight, the sunset was dizzy like a drunk tango dance. I wore this skirt and strolled on the shore of the lake. The wind came gently, and the ripples of the water lines were layered one by one, with endless waves, like endless youth. I smiled and closed my eyes and raised my cheek slightly. Feel the cool and moist rain silk. At this time, time is an ancient blue and white porcelain, white and thorough. I am an innocent girl, and I don’t know how cold the ground is after the fireworks. Now, with my favorite blue dress, I stand in front of the mirror and wear it carefully. The skirt is still the same, but I think it is out of date. Yes, I am untimely and pure, goodbye. All of a sudden, I felt a little disappointed. The distance between years and fingers has been a century of vicissitudes. Now, it’s a waste of time. No matter how bright and beautiful the past years were, there was only a sigh of yuan left. Time stay! The unreserved time flooded Qinhuai singing and dancing and buried the Cold Moon at the border pass. I rubbed the blue dress again and again, as if I were reliving the lively and fragrant days. However, I know that the beauty of that moment only belongs to that moment. Some things have blossomed in life, you must learn to forget. Bitter, sweet. Let it go with the wind if it should be abandoned. Only on the road can we walk lightly. Three Twilight and four, the room is quiet. I walked to the bookcase and looked at the neatly placed books, thinking about how long I hadn’t read a book calmly. Busy days become spinning top, whipped by responsibility and pursuit. However, the uninterrupted rotation will have the meaning of life. What I fear most is that I have been crazy for a long time and find that it is still at the origin. I gently took out a book and opened it. A letter slips quietly, with beautiful curves, like a lady. I slightly surprised. Bent down and up. A five-cent stamp on the yellowed envelope impressively told me the vast years it had gone through and stepped through thousands of mountains and rivers before it reached my hand. Open the letter: See the letter if you meet. Five words broke into my sight, and the graceful handwriting was full of white stationery. My heart suddenly moved. Seeing the letter was like meeting each other, which was the most frequently appeared words in the letter at that time. It is short, but it is enough to explain the sincere feelings when the words are written by myself. Once, reading letters and writing letters under the light were my most pleasant time. Integrate missing and caring into words one by one, hold a pen, and spread these heartwarming greetings with your own hands, then paste selected stamps and send them to the mailbox. Then there is full expectation. After receiving the reply, I read it over and over again quietly. The joy and sorrow from thousands of mountains and valleys came to my heart instantly, as if I had never been away from them. I know that in each other’s letters, every word and sentence carries a real finger warmth. Suddenly I remembered that old song “A Letter to My Family” Li Chunbo sang with a little melancholy Dear Mom and Dad, how are you? I will definitely go home this Spring Festival. The wandering feet are destined to drift in a foreign land, and the homesickness will be conveyed by a letter. jia shu di vangener! I smiled inexplicably, looking at the Light Letter paper in my hand. Now, how extravagant it is to write letters? Who do you miss, who do you miss, phone calls, videos, etc., will be solved in one minute. I don’t want the ancients to cut the lamp flowers, and I won’t sleep for a whole night. However, I suddenly missed the day when I wrote letters. Looking at the familiar handwriting, it was kind and warm. The miss and blessing in each letter arrived in the hands of the other party after experiencing precipitation. Nowadays, in the fast way, there is less warmth and weight. The four days are old, but there will be no old and yellow people and vicissitudes of wrinkles. But it exudes a faint fragrance, and is beautiful alone like empty valley and orchid. The old time, simple and steady, quietly lying in the spring water of memory, kept his duty quietly. The old time, fragrant, quietly floating in the autumn wave of nostalgia, silently guarding the past. In the old days, the old goes to the mountains, the old goes to the bamboo hairpin, and the old goes to all things in the world. In my heart, it is as bright as ever. It rained at night, drips of silk fell, and the sound of patting was hanging under the roof of the corner of the building. It was getting old tonight. My mood suddenly brightened up, and tomorrow is another new morning. Like (prose editor: yuiran) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. From beginning to end, I only welcomed myself with silence; Since I went to college, on weekends… [Original essay] string words Since winter, the sky is dry and the snow is misty. The whole earth is desolate and empty. 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