Fang Fei's Prose in April on Earth

April wheatgrass prose 1 The end of spring came this year.

As we all know, the apricot flowers in my hometown are densely covered with branches earlier, and the slight breeze and colorful falling flowers are like a master dancer, which is pleasing to the eye. I also know that more than ten days ago, the enchanting peach blossoms in Hohhot have been swaying through the streets. People rushed to the Princess House for a quick look, and the more fragrant lilacs were intoxicating.

Duolun, because of its geographical location, quietly hid the scenery that should have been spring. April has passed. Every day, the yellow sand covers the sky, and the plants seem to know nothing about the world, so it is difficult to leave their beautiful makeup on their bodies. In fact, it is no wonder that they, "the beauty of the world is in April, and the peach blossoms in the mountain temple begin to bloom." Regional differences get in the way, no matter who or what, there is nothing they can do, and they can only silently listen to the arrangement of the seasons.

I was too impatient, and Duolun people were used to it, comforting me by saying, "Duolun's spring, once it comes, will be unstoppable." I believe there is an amazing spring hidden here, waiting, perhaps the longest confession and greeting to this late season.

In the case of waiting, day and night will be dragged on by anxiety for a long time. Especially at night, the sand and stones raised by the wind hit the windows on the sixth floor. On such a night, the bloody scales of the devil are always reflected in my mind. Their hard texture rubs against the glass again and again, and the sound is sharp and strange. I contract sweat glands again and again and squeeze out cold liquid. If you happen to meet sunny weather and quiet night, open the small window and count the stars all over the sky, then the long night will come to the bed of dawn unconsciously.

Everything is doomed. If I can't come here for no reason, the truth of "coming is safe" will convince me again. Time gives people a calm function. I came out of my dream this morning, and the shimmer of the sky painted everything around me, so everything seemed full and empty except me. The sky is still calm, and lead-gray skin cannot be associated with this "April day on earth". The bright sunshine shines into the unfinished cups, and the breeze comes slowly, leaving a sleeve of fragrance, which makes people fascinated and carefree!

I wonder if I should write something like "spring resentment" and calm down. This magical state made me give up my rare inspiration and gradually relaxed my tense nerves. On the contrary, all the heartfelt compassion, pain and entanglement are no longer the inspiration or inseparable elements when I write, but the reason and strength for my free life.

On April day, it's good to have red flowers, green willows and warm mountains, but some places have completely lost their luster, but the knot of sadness and resentment can't and shouldn't stay. Holding the glory of hope, cloudy days will be as bright as spring!

April wheatgrass prose on earth 2 [1]

At the end of April, the fallen flowers were full of injuries and my thoughts were like smoke.

The sad rain overflowed the pain in my heart. Years of injury, slowly flowing in the long river of years, sometimes swaying, sometimes hiding, sometimes noisy, sometimes quiet, sometimes confused, sometimes unforgettable.

In the clear sky, the golden aperture floated across the sparse branches and scattered to the mottled patches of the earth. Standing in the sun, my brain instantly becomes decadent and lazy, and my brain is a little dizzy because of lack of oxygen. This dazzling and warm fragment always feels unreal.

The sun is warm and the heart is cool, and the dreams are shallow and the clouds are deep. Obsessed with memories, looking for the place where we met for the first time, trying to piece together the perfection of the past and feel the familiar warmth with all our strength. Only to find that the fleeting time has stumbled, everything has changed, and I can't go back early, the flower sea of that year.

Time flies and is taken out of context. Fingertips, breakpoints I really want to write down happiness for you, draw a simple heart for you, float your clothes in the clouds and keep you clean. And every time because of you, happiness disappears, and life is just endless degeneration. Graceful clothes lead to the vicissitudes of this world, and careful walking will eventually lead to confusion.

Turn around, but miss you everywhere. Looking forward to it, the sun and the moon can be used as a mirror. Too many words, don't want to say, eternal love, don't want to send, deep love, don't want to sing. Silence buried everything, loneliness accumulated into thick soil, and the heart seemed to be frozen for thousands of years.

Love can be persistent, but not humble. Many years later, those words have been rotting in my stomach for a long time. Those feelings, such as fleeting thoughts, are irrelevant when they are far away or near. Those loves have long condensed into scars in my heart.

How to heal years of pain? How to fill the blank in my heart? How do people in dreams get close? What is the fate ahead?

[2]

Embrace the baptism of a rain, face the sunshine, but want to escape, afraid of stabbing your eyes and hurting your eyes.

Walking in the quiet air, people are still as quiet as ever, only feeling the huge holes, devouring all the power a little. Hold out your finger and feel the direction of the wind. It is as soft as silk, like a soft touch, without trace, but indifferent, as lonely as water.

Outside the window, there are thousands of scenery. The heart is hard to understand. In my eyes, there are only black and white. The flowers are blooming, the rain is soft, and the birds are happy. They want to embrace the blue sky with open arms. However, the past is entangled and the reality is blocked. They can only watch from a distance, spreading beauty wantonly, and painting the unreachable three-inch heaven.

Memories are like knives, a memory, a cut, a wound, and traces of blood are embedded in the bone marrow. Clench your fist, push, push again, resist all the pain and not let yourself collapse. Insist on weakness, open your palm, and the clear half-moon opens a bleak flower in front of your eyes, which gradually dissipates and hurts for a long time.

Standing somewhere, motionless, looking straight at the ground, watching thousands of changes. Raindrops splash, raising one spray after another. I can't open my eyes because of the sunshine. The speeding wheels and hurried footsteps left traces of vicissitudes.

Like this, standing in a daze, in a daze, without thinking, will not be sad, but it is easy to fall into some thoughts, deep in thought, want to sink into this land, bury all the pain and dreams, and start a new journey.

The world of mortals is lonely and cold. The sky is clear as washing, the wind sings gently, and the heart enjoys peace in the increasingly barren waiting.

You said, I am such a simple and beautiful woman, I deserve the best love in the world, and I shouldn't cry.

You said, I gave you a warm day, and you will cherish my kindness forever, but you can only owe me a lifetime.

You said you really loved, but you just can't afford it, so you have to let me go and let me find the happiness I lost for too long.

You said that if the future can be rearranged, I will never let go of my hand and join hands with the sun, the moon and the stars to the end of the world. ...

I have been with these memories for many years. Countless nights rely on these memories to keep warm.

Time flies, teaching me to laugh like a flower in loneliness. It is a painful happiness to miss you.

[3]

People who miss the past will inevitably live a hard life, have no courage to end, and don't know how to start.

I would rather be busy than have time to miss it. I'd rather be tired than have the strength to remember. If you can, don't you think it's great to eat with a big mouth, close your eyes and sleep, and smile when you wake up?

Outside the window, empty beauty, gorgeous camouflage, that pale sky, where will it drift next? When I have a little leisure time, I always want to sort out my feelings involuntarily. Whether I am happy or sad, I resort to pens to salvage the wheel of life of the years and tell my romantic feelings.

Sadness sleeps, happiness freezes, and looking at the smiles in the photos, those happy as if nothing had happened, hiding poison, actually feel like nightmares, too beautiful to be true. However, I don't want to give up, so I try to smile mercilessly and pretend to be carefree, trying to relive that simple and leisurely youth.

Because it is so beautiful, it hurts the most. Through the wall of memory, slowly pick up the beauty that has fallen and scattered with tender fingertips, string up the ecstasy of life and gently melodious in my heart. Originally, the most beautiful, just once. The most painful thing is only once.

The wind blows long vows and wrinkles sauvignon blanc. In the long wind of the years, I linger, my hair is close to my face and my vision is blurred. I don't know whether to whip or touch, to wake up or to cover up. However, in the gentle whisper of the wind, in the trembling eyes, I can see the deep feelings that have never dispersed, and the waiting that is hard to give up.

In an instant, the wind, crazy, chasing Ye Er, embarked on the fate of withering. In the blink of an eye, there was a rustle in front of me. Ye Er stepped on his toes and brushed his trouser legs. I can feel pale anxiety, I want to go and stay, I want to talk, but I can't stop.

In April, wheatgrass has gone, and love is speechless. It's just hard to give up your worries and leave your thoughts. It's just, if I know this, why should I know it? Just, that is, I have turned around. Why didn't I forget?

Perhaps it's because of a talented woman {Lin's April day, "After melting, you are like a green bud, you are gentle and happy ..." From the moment you step into the threshold of spring, you can't wait for the arrival of April, looking forward to the flowering of trees and listening to the whispers of swallows in the beam.

Observe whether the jujube tree sprouts every day, because the old people say that only the jujube tree buds are all leaves is the real April day. When I opened the curtains this morning, I suddenly found that the jujube trees in the yard were green with tiny leaf buds and crystal dew rolling on them. There are even bees lurking in twos and threes on the blooming begonia, roses and calla lilies beside the trees. It's really weird. How can the elf know where the flowers are blooming and where the green is full? Maybe its sense of smell is particularly sensitive?

In April, the sunshine is pleasant, the buds are in bud, delicate and charming, and the fragrance is fragrant. There are green grass all over the mountains, and the flashing dew shines in the sun, so transparent and bright, just like my calm heart, refusing all visitors and enjoying the warmth of April alone. In fact, I have learned to forget people and things that don't belong to me, give up some unspeakable pains and restore inner peace. I also hope that the bodhi trees planted in early spring will rise from the ground and purify my dusty and secular heart.

I think Lin compares the love of her life to April on earth, which shows that April is very poetic, warm and romantic. "White Lotus Floating in the Water" lures people to explore the spring and drowns the poet's freehand brushwork. It's like seeing a Wu Peng boat, rippling in the spring of a river. The boatman's paddle sounds come and go, long and loud, breaking the tranquility of the season. Looking around, there is an idyllic scene, full of green, full of vitality and poetry. A budding apricot flower is swaying in the breeze, showing its amorous feelings. Birds spreading their wings hover among the blue sky, white clouds, green mountains and green waters, stunning the years. I hate that spring is nowhere to be found, and I don't want to be it.

Stop in the warmth of April, lie in the Yuan Ye in April, graze your soul lightly, stretch your body, indulge yourself in the gentle sunshine, listen to the wind quietly, and watch bees and butterflies fly silently; Let the mood, or memory drift with the white clouds; Forget the hustle and bustle of the world, wash away the troubles of the world, and let your thoughts extend and touch unscrupulously. I wonder if anyone will look under that peach tree? Do you remember where the peach blossoms pinned to your hair fell? Listen, there seems to be a beautiful voice in the distance. I wonder if it's the beautiful woman who sings April amorous feelings?

I really want time to stand still at this moment, holding a warm sun, sleeping peacefully on a layer of yellow-green grass, dreaming of colorful clouds chasing the moon, breathing and beating with the pulse of the grass. Even if you make a pink petal, it will wither into the rhythm of Tang and Song poetry and graceful into a green, fat, red and thin romance. Wait for the wind to pass through the alley of time, gather and park your thoughts in the harbor of dreams, and blend into romantic poems.

If there is another expensive spring rain, like cow hair, like needles, like filaments, think of a girl holding an oil-paper umbrella. Taste the sadness of lilacs. What a gripping piece of music should this be?

On the streets of April, the children's tinkling laughter, the agility of chasing kites, the comfort of the old man sitting in the alley, and the pause of time on the old man's forehead silently interpret the heaviness of life, the vicissitudes of time and the connotation of life. Peach blossoms wither, but they worry about a spring.

The journey of life will always be like the time when autumn leaves wither in four seasons. The important thing is that the soul is rich, as peaceful and quiet as April. With a normal mind, we can build a temple of the soul, a candle, a storm, a poetic tranquility and a feeling of mountains and rivers. In a pot of tea and a book of poems, we can interpret life and enrich the years. Light spirit was copied in April's wheatgrass. Then you are "love, warmth, hope, and you are April on earth."

Four people said, "April is the end of the world." It's true, you see: the peach blossoms have withered, and pear flower falls has died. The cauliflower in the field has long lost its former glory. ...

The begonia in front of the classroom has now withered, and there are only sporadic and incomplete flowers hanging between the green branches and leaves, which has already become a climate. But it looks more like the second girl in front of the kindergarten, clutching her mother's sleeve but refusing to go in. But in the end, I will definitely be driven into school. It's time to grow and develop myself. )

In the small garden, only heather with red leaves is as crazy as a villain at this moment, whoosh, whoosh, a large area, a large area, red and purple, all over the garden, very eye-catching, as if it had become the most beautiful flower. People say, "Frost leaves are redder than February flowers." But it's not that stupid Wind and frost have nothing to do with it. Why are you looking for abuse? It is still a pleasant spring: the sun is so warm and the air is so comfortable. Perhaps intoxicated by the pleasant spring breeze, you see, their smiling faces are redder and brighter in the sun! I'm afraid I have forgotten my original identity because of dancing.

"A hundred flowers are not red for a hundred days", and some flowers live very clearly. They know that flowering is important, but the result is more important. After the peaches and plums wither, you will find that DOG and Xiaoli have been bred among the green branches and leaves, which are really lovely. Pears, in particular, are like children with lollipops, inviting you to be spoiled and making you happy; It is also like a small drumstick that is lifted one by one. It seems that Tao and Li have long been ready to March with gongs and drums, and now they are grasping the spring to develop themselves. The roadside rape flowers are not far away, and the branches are covered with silique, which makes the farmers who are weeding in the fields very happy.

Some flowers are probably so intoxicated with their appearance that they forget the result. Roses, in particular, are beautiful and insatiable. I actually wanted to bloom flowers once a month, and I did. Maybe God can't stand it, so punish its spikes. On the contrary, Yingchun, Narcissus and Peony are more sober and know that they are weak because they are too early or too beautiful, so they should stop as soon as possible. After all, it is too ostentatious and unproductive, too arrogant. It's better to keep a low profile So they saved their strength and worked hard to develop themselves, waiting for the next year to show off again and strive to win the crown of the public. Yingchun is more careful, thinking that even if she can't grab the most beautiful crown, she will fight for the first spring! As for the result, the mind is willing but unable to do so, so forget it.

Perhaps it is because of the simplicity and reality of peaches and plums that they are favored by people, planted in front of the house and carefully cared for. And that kind of smelly rose will only be planted by farmers in the corner, fertile land, farmers are not willing to plant such useless things.

Get rid of unrealistic fantasies, get rid of secular fetters, resist all kinds of temptations, learn to choose, find the right position in life, develop yourself in a low-key way, and dedicate yourself, because only sincerity can get the true feelings.

My teenager, even if he can't be a peach and plum in the garden, will become a rape flower on the roadside. Pursuing a moment of glory will only lead to a lifetime of regret.

In April, the world is full of essays. In April, the world is fragrant and the drizzle is clear. I learned online that Wang Qiong came back from Wuhan on April 2nd to visit the grave of the elderly. Some of our classmates in Yichang discussed it. It has been more than 20 years since we graduated from university. Whether we get together in Wuhan or Yichang, Wang Qiong is the host. It's our turn to be the host this time. So I plan to meet at the Three Princes Hotel in the evening.

At about 5 pm, Wang Zhenghua and I first came to the reserved private room. Soon, nearly 20 students arrived one after another. I have graduated for decades. We are all busy making a living. At that time, there were ***3 1 students in our class. In addition to a few students who were far away from Guangzhou and Wuhan, Qi Xiong, who returned to Yichang from Shanghai, also came to the party. Liu Qian, who was going to attend a fraternity in Yidu in the evening, also made a special trip just to see her classmates again. It is because of the return of Wang Qiong that we have the opportunity to get together. At 7 o'clock in the evening, we asked the monitor or the leader of the party group to speak. He, Xiao Mou and Monitor Chen repeatedly refused to let me speak as a representative. "Time flies, youth is no longer. Today, we meet again with excitement. I hope Wang Qiong will come back to Yichang every year when the peach blossoms are in full bloom and the spring flowers are in full bloom, and we will all have a party together! Let's drink to our classmate friendship! " Wang Qiong raised his glass affectionately. The youngest school girl in the class said with a smile that she would be 50 years old in two years. Be sure to take care of yourself, and wish the old classmates a lasting friendship. Students frequently raise glasses to our youth! Let's drink to the eternal friendship between classmates! During the dinner, Wang Zhenghua smartly tore open his throat, and a song "Goodbye, Dabie Mountain" and a duet "Meet in Aobao" pushed the atmosphere of the party to * * *.

Looking back on the unforgettable years of my classmates in the past three years, we all feel that the years are ruthless and the time passes too fast, and we also miss two classmates who left early due to illness. Take care of each other, never overdraw your life, and treat the relationship between wealth and health dialectically. This time, everyone is together again. Yang Ge, the youngest in the class, has now become a famous businessman in Wuhan. The students asked the secret of the success of Younger Shopping Center. She smiled: Who knows my bitterness and twists and turns! If you want to say the secret of shopping malls, it is to seize the opportunity and never look back. No matter what others say, it is most important to go your own way!

A philosopher once said: Opportunities are often cruel, sometimes even cruel. Every time you look forward to seeing through the autumn waters, she still hides half her face behind the guitar in front of us, either late or simply not showing up; When you are slightly negligent, it appears quietly and then slips away during your nap; When you really catch it, you can't say that you will miss the opportunity because of a moment of ecstasy. Shakespeare once said: "The world is like a tide. If we can make good use of the trend, we can succeed. " If you miss the chance, you will only be washed to the shallows. "

The fate of life is really unpredictable. The philosopher Socrates said: "The most promising winners are not those who have outstanding talents, but those who are best at using every opportunity to develop and explore." The life of time is active today, and I keep asking myself: If I don't have the courage and ability like Younger, should I be calm, broad-minded and indifferent to my ambitions? Mencius said: It's fun to be educated by talented people in the world. "The benevolent Leshan wise man enjoys water, and the so-called happiness is actually just a subjective feeling of people. I think, fame or profit, success or failure, are just fleeting. Look at the flowers in front of the court, sit and watch the clouds rolling in the sky, not happy with things, not sad for yourself. Look at the gains and losses of life with a comfortable attitude, and have no intention of staying. Today, no matter our status, whether our family is rich or poor, it is more important to have a good mood every day than anything else. Dear friend, what do you say?

The drizzle seems to represent our reluctant parting. In front of the car, we turned to say goodbye to Wang Qiong and other Wuhan students and took care of each other. May our life be as brilliant as peach blossoms, and may our friendship be as evergreen as pine trees in autumn!