Su Shi·Thoughts

? Kanxiao has been busy with his words all his life, and his poems are sparse and sparse.

? I want to drink a thousand cups of wine under the bright moon, but I still love a cup of wine in the world.

? Su Zi comes to the world, jade enters the stream. The first appearance shocks the world, and flowers grow on the paper. The appearance of heaven and man, a stroke of ten thousand years. Wherever there is a singing pipe, it makes beautiful women laugh. The face is so sultry as it is gently smeared.

? He was originally a happy person, always smiling throughout his life. Even if there are rough encounters, I still sing the spring breeze of the willows. The book business is full of energy and transcendental ideas. Drink all the passion, and travel thousands of miles. Even though I have been wandering all my life, I still have a breath of fresh air. Or you may spend your old age peacefully in a happy land, but you will end up in a bumpy ride. All the cold branches are picked, and the lonely sandbank is left. I want to carry the coquettish three ounces of ink with my heart to the bright moon and my body to the ditch. However, the bright moon shines on the glass, and every inch of soil is filled with dust.

? He has been doing what he thinks is right, and may have doubted whether it is really right, but he has not found a better way to practice his beliefs. The political career is full of twists and turns, either with dark clouds or violent storms. When I was young, my spirit was unparalleled, even if millions of people followed me. When you are in your sixtieth year, your heart and mind are exhausted, and all you want is a secluded place. He expected to see the rainbow of destiny, but instead found endless darkness, stars in twos and threes, and a thin moon in the picture of life. Desolate, desolate, empty. Windless night, lonely people. He couldn't see the distance clearly, and he almost forgot the way he came.

? He was never broad-minded, but chose to reconcile with himself. Just like a piece of land that cannot be left uncultivated, if peonies cannot bloom, then begonias should be planted. Maybe I can't wait for the mountain flowers to bloom, but in my heart, the pleasant fragrance is already blooming.

? The wind and rain are passing by, and the mood is in waves. Unfortunately, Confucianism, Buddhism and Taoism are of little use. There are many wonderful words in the text, but they just lead to nothingness. No matter where the breeze blows, my heart feels cold. I would like to ride a boat into the sea and spend the rest of my life there. The truth beckoned in the distance, and the mist of reality buried the young man's heart. The light that I couldn't catch up with even after running day and night now looks even hazier in the cold wind. He wanted to use a piece of romance to drive away the dark clouds and retain the clear sky he loved, but he was so sad that he couldn't speak in the poem and broke down in tears. Singing is the pain of breathing, the memories one after another, the tenderness one sentence after another. He put on a lonely dress and went to the party in the cool autumn of life.

? That night, he rode the wind and flew to the sky, looking for immortals, drinking from the moon, and visiting mountains and rivers. Walk all over the green grass and drink all the mellow fairy wine. Singing and whistling, feasting happily, and then falling into a carefree sleep, never to wake up again for a thousand years. In his dream, he came to a place where people were shouting and traffic was busy. There are several stalls on both sides of the road, selling rouge, toys, vegetables and meat, melons and fruits, and a hotel. Feeling thirsty and empty, he went to the hotel and asked the waiter for a pot of tea and a bowl of meat. The quality of the tea is acceptable, although it is not as good as the Immortal Treasure, it still has a unique flavor. But the taste of this meat is very familiar, as if it has been eaten somewhere before, no, it must have been eaten somewhere. He ate it one bite at a time, unable to remember where or when he had eaten it. It seemed like I had eaten it a long time ago, or eaten it with many people. He couldn't remember it anyway, so he asked the waiter what was so special about this meat. The waiter said that this dish was made by a great master, who had superb poetry, unparalleled calligraphy and painting, world-class writing, and good cooking skills. This person was called Su Dongpo, and this dish was also called Dongpo Pork. Su Dongpo? Su Dongpo! A very familiar name, I should have known him before. He recited the name in a low voice, and as he continued to recite it, it seemed that someone else was reciting the name, and then people on the whole street began to recite the name. He woke up, looked at the relatives and friends surrounding him, and the wine glass poured aside, and he understood that this was a dream. The dream is in heaven, the dream is in the world. He was confused, confused, and confused. Maybe people are like this. When they are in the world, they yearn for heaven, and when they are in heaven, they yearn for the world. Heaven on earth, heaven on earth.

? If you get your wish to live in Changzhou at that time, then you will have a family after being away for half your life. I wonder if I really can't let go of my obsession with being an official. I can't let go of all the complicated things. I use poverty to become pure, and I use poetry and wine to enter my youth. I just walk away without a trace.

The happy and happy days were once in front of him, but now, like an unstoppable longing, they always passed through the dead lake in his heart, occasionally making ripples, outlining the longing for heaven.

? There are flowers especially in late spring and green in early summer. Three or five friends, cool breeze and warm sun. The landscape is beautiful and the birds are singing harmoniously. The food is ready and the wine is strong. I have a song that I want to sing, please listen to it for me. The mountains and rivers are smiling, the mist and rain are far away, how much do you know in the world of mortals? The breeze smiles, causing loneliness, but the pride is still there, and the evening light shines on it.

? The youthful spirit and pride are like smoke rising into the evening sky. Only a little ink in the chest dares to leave endless whiteness in the world.

? There are clouds in the western sky, called Qingxia. Sometimes there are swan geese that can fly together. There are rivers in summer, and there are three or two lotus trees. The waves are leisurely, and the ducks and swans are singing. The birds are chirping, and the children are chirping. But if you smell it carefully, the food on the table is fragrant.