"Shanyue doesn't know what's going on in her heart" So what if she sees through the gatherings and separations in this world! Read Zhang Xilin

Wandering in the noisy crowd, I looked back and saw the young man who had arrived as promised: the green shirt under the moon seemed to be fluttering; the shyness in the eyes and the gentle smile were like the entanglement of the previous life; When you step out of iron shoes, you find that your fall is just between a pair of eyebrows; holding hands and falling into the sea of ??people, looking at each other in love between the lights, the time becomes gorgeous and leisurely; there is nothing in the world that can be compared to walking through this with the person you miss. Great event and feast! One day of tenderness is enough to remember for a lifetime!

So I make a wish to the moon, but I hope that at this time every year, the moon will be full.

Youthful love is the most precious thing.

Ouyang Xiuzhen is a romantic poet. The beauty and the young man meet in such a hazy artistic conception, and invite the world to compare.

In the old years, tell a story about youth. Young love was originally green and ignorant, but after time and space, it has experienced the precipitation of time. This story with moonlight has become pure and profound, which is touching.

Everyone has experienced young love. The most real and pure emotion in life is the most perfect memorial of time to growth. My friend told me that youthful love always happened in an instant, and vows were made in an instant. Those days and nights that seem luxurious now, lingering and lingering, were the whole world that had fallen at that time. It's great to be young. You can love as much as you want, without having to be reserved or worry about what disasters may come in the future. First love is the first flower brewing in life. It has not had time to bloom, but it is shy and cute, with persistent persistence. Because of it, our young minds can become richer and more mature.

But good times are always short-lived, like fireworks that bloom vigorously and then disappear. The young years of life are always pressed step by step by the ruthless time, as if the meaning of meeting each other is only in the glorious moment of intersection. Life is always in a hurry between gatherings and separations. Invisible time seems to have become tangible, and people can clearly feel its rapid passage and irreversibility.

Let’s drink wine to the east wind, and let the sun be calm, and the willows will drop to the east of Luo City. We always join hands and travel around the world. Gathering and separation are painful and hurried, and this hatred is endless. This year's flowers are better than last year's. Unfortunately, next year's flowers are even better. Who do you know?

Ouyang Xiu has seen through the gatherings and separations in the world, so he cherishes the beautiful moments of being together even more. Therefore, in the spring when we travel together, people should always be as calm as the spring breeze. Time seems not to go away in such a hurry, and we can record more sincere nostalgia. It’s just that “if the flowers bloom this year and the color changes, who will be there next year?” The grandeur of creation makes it impossible for anyone to be perfect. Human beings are just a small link in the eternal chain of the universe. Who can resist the unpredictable changes that come like a tidal wave of time? It's just that this hatred lingers. The flowering period is not over yet, but the people are no longer there, and the remaining blooms are just the lingering regret. What kind of gatherings and separations will you encounter in your future life? Who knows. It’s just that every second we got to know each other is always the best.

It is another spring, a warm spring, and the plum trees that grow in cold climates are withering day by day. Beauty is always full of contradictions. I don’t know whether to smile in advance for spring, or to mourn the creatures who have been with me all winter. The willow trees by the stream have sprouted tender new buds, and the breeze blows, as delicate and warm as a woman's hands. The grass around the hotel is filled with a faint fragrance, and life has been so vigorous that it indicates the time of the journey. The beauties in the embroidery workshop watch their beloved go further and further on the embankment where the spring water ripples. This scene is so familiar yet strange. I wonder when the two of them will meet again. Do they also think of being separated by the world forever? The ship that was embarking on the journey was getting farther and farther away, and suddenly I saw the little beauty, holding her skirt and hurriedly boarding a nearby tall building. Her eyes were already wet, and only tears were left on her carefully decorated face. She kept waving in the direction of the ship. , until the ship becomes a point in the sky and is no longer visible. She was still looking into the distance, rubbing the yellow handkerchief vigorously with both hands, as if rubbing her intestines, but she was afraid that her intestines would be broken by now. Looking around, in the distance of the Spring River there are only endless spring mountains, layer upon layer, as if they are intentionally separated from love and longing.

After getting together and breaking up, the separation is the most intense. Parting makes people ecstasy not only means that emotions cannot be comforted, but also means the passage of time. "It's hard to say goodbye when we meet each other." If we want to meet again, how much distance will we have to travel, how many times will we miss and pass by each other? How many changes will we have when we meet again? Time has taken us away. The heat of youth has left silence; the friction of years against the soul has brought about unspeakable pain and the loss of the purest happiness. The time when we met became heavy and helpless. Should we regret the time we spent missing each other, or should we never have met in the first place? How could Qingfeng Langyue understand those complex and inexplicable emotions. The heartfelt talk has not yet been completed, only the song of departure is left.

What I am fascinated by Ouyang Xiu's words is not the deep and gentle emotions, but the awakening of his individual life consciousness.

He understands that people can't be exempted from vulgarity just by pretending to be independent and isolated from the world of mortals. In the face of the infinite desires of the world, only the indifference in the heart and the pursuit of the original life can leave a pure world.

So Ouyang Xiu is extremely nostalgic. Although the flowers are similar every year, the people are different every year. But every time new buds sprout out of the old flower trees again, the memories of the old year come rushing back, and people realize that feelings can spread so far in time.

So tonight, when the moonlight is still there and the lights are still on, I walk through the surging crowds to look for the beauty, but I can't find any trace. When I feel sad and helpless, my clothes will be wet with tears of regret. The weather is old, the clothes are old, the tears in my chest are the rain in front of the steps. The encounter is too short, but the memories are too long. How can there be no regrets, how can we not be sentimental?

The melancholy of things changing and people changing, the desolation of the contrast between the past and the present, the beautiful scenery of a good time suddenly turned into a sad state, and the night view of the flower market with intertwined moonlights suddenly turned from bright to dim. The indifferent sadness permeates the air, and you can feel it when you breathe. The clear moonlight and bright lights are just the incarnation of desolation, the catalyst of sentimentality, and the similar witness in the sad eyes. Revisiting the old place, a beautiful woman is hard to find, I look at the flowers with tears in my eyes and say nothing, I can't find an outlet for my loneliness, my sleeves are filled with sadness.

Is it the sad, lingering and deep-rooted lovesickness that tortures people's hearts, or the sorrow that young love is gone and never comes back? Who has never truly longed for it, who has never pursued it sincerely, but helplessly, the figure of happiness always passes by. Those old joys still linger in my heart, fermenting into sparkling tears tonight. Those beautiful moments of mutual love and lingering sadness are gradually passing away in the years, and they cannot be repeated in this life. No one would have expected that missing one season would actually miss a lifetime, and that a short period of lovesickness would be followed by a long lifetime of farewell. Although the alliance is still there, the beautiful woman is silent. Is it fate or regret?

Or maybe only parting can preserve all the best clarity and remember it forever. What you can't get is always the best. Only regret makes life complete. A rag doll thrown away when I was young has become the crystallization of all the beautiful memories of my childhood. If she hadn't thrown it away, it might just be an old thing covered in dust now, unwilling to be picked up again. What about young love? If it had not ended, would it still be fresh and beautiful, or would it inevitably be stained by the dust of time and become old and rough? Maybe if we never see each other again and miss each other only in memory, love will become more perfect.

There are changes that are unpredictable. The story that has already happened hides too many secrets. Write the most confusing emotions of youth under the moon, let others speculate, and leave traces that you can recall. There are too many things in the world that cannot be understood, so just write down the simplest emotions. Some stories are too long and difficult to understand, so it is better to write a short poem, which is simple and exciting.

I still remember when we first met

We know each other infinitely

We promise to never change

(Read Zhang Xilin's "Mountains and Moons Don't Know What's in My Heart" "Things" like her words about Ouyang Xiu, "Youth is extremely precious, love is a beauty that disappears suddenly."

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