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Drunk as a young man red

Le 16 janvier 2018, 05:00 dans Humeurs 0

I have heard of the white river wetland park, and I have heard of her natural beauty and charming charm, such as the poem, the green water and the green makeup. Unfortunately, she has not been able to see her beauty. It happened that this year's New Year's day, be free and at leisure, came to the white river wetland park master of psychology hong kong.
May be the cause of the cold winter, walking in the landscape road, trapped, and eyes, is that the cold wind blowing all the platane, weeping willow leaves, hits the bare naked stood in the cold wind, trunk is so thin, lonely, once the soft and graceful has become a memory. Only the plant is still green and green, and the trees are full of green to bring joy and freshness to the tourists, which adds a lot of life to the silence of the winter.
Don't know don't feel like to go to the wetlands in the lotus pond edge, while missing the summer lotus charm of excellence, and infinite, but the pool clear lakes and the charge after the busy stubble, still in the water ripples gently shake to grace and peace. In the face of such a pond lily's quiet beauty, it can not help to produce a few of the ease of life. In this quiet moment, suddenly, a few children's chatter broke the silence of the pool.
Looking forward to the sound, because of the cold weather apartments hk, there are not many people swimming around the lake, and there is still some residual frost on the shore, the road is not very easy to go. There were only a few pupils with red scarves and an elderly couple walking in front of me. The old lady looked older. Start was a bit wobbly. Some of the primary school students, despite the cold weather, were playing and mischievous near the old man. Suddenly he heard "ouch", and the old woman stumbled and fell, and the old man hurried to help her, presumably because of his age, the old man was trying to pull up the old woman.
I just want to walk fast, but I don't know what is in the abnormal behaviour, suddenly reminded of sketch "help not helps" in the sentence "the elder brother is a big rush of" classic lines, and then thought of the peng yu case, is really fantastic, how can think of the pell-mell? I was hesitant to not to help the old lady, that a few rowdy pupils almost at the same time of the old man fell down, stopped to frolic trot up to the old man's side, a few pairs of red with cold hands to help the old lady up together, and chirp said: "grandma, you fell and hurt? Grandpa, are you far from home? Let's take you home hong kong serviced apartment harbour view. The voice of the child with love, in the winter of the white river bank. I could not hear what the old man said, and only a few of them rushed forward to help the old man. My heart was stung by something, a strange movement.
Just then the sun rose and the sun was shining and the sky was clear. The bright sunshine swept away the frost on the road, sprinkled on the children's red scarf, the bright red scarf is more dazzling. Just at this moment, the trees flew over a few magpie, za, don't know is amazing for this winter the leaves of the lotus pond, or for the children's pure innocence and sang the hymns, everything is so harmonious, so sweet. Looking at the dazzling "young red", unconsciously for his own thoughts and behaviors to be ashamed of. Although nowadays some of the world is not satisfactory, but beautiful and beautiful still mainstream ah. It is like the lotus of the pond, though it is not stained with dirt, but like this red scarf, innocent but innocent...
, because of the winter sun shining sky seems more warm, in this cold day, looked at the dazzling "young red", bathed in the warm winter sun, soul also unconsciously floor heating up. Happy birds, warm winter sun, civilized behavior, beautiful, fresh this cold winter. Just like lotus, whether she experienced the summer of green wave billowing, red dress flying clothes, or accept wind and rain, cold and bitter winter, she can not change the bone that does not dye the mud.
In the long river of life, although sometimes encounter unsatisfactory, but a greeting, gently soft soft a little care, a little care, like the winter on the warm sun warm. With the help of civilization and harmony, the world will not be barren, the spirit will not be barren, and life will not be pessimistic. As long as everyone is given a little care, give some love, I believe, in the dull days, or in who lonely disappointing, we still be of flow around the awaken of spring and the fragrance of sweet.
It turns out that happiness can be as simple as a wisp of wind, a pool of water, a winter sun, a love, and you can blend happiness and happiness into it...

Listen to the snow

Le 16 janvier 2018, 04:39 dans Humeurs 0

It is said that snow is the soul of winter, but I think snow is another soul of man. She comes from the floating jade, or spins or slanting, or is eager or slow, the gentle dance, the smooth and tonal charm, xiaoxiao sprinkling jade, the heaven and earth drunk into one color; It also moisturizes the skin into the muscle, melts the wisdom in the wisdom, is beautiful in thinking, pure heart cold desire, causes the person to live out another kind of realm in the silent snow language.
They say the snow is used, but I think the snow is more for listening. "Listen to the snow, it is better to listen to a person, both of them are too many, because of the popularity, it is a matter of no popularity. As long as one person, quiet down, heaven and earth great beauty, the snow quietly drifting, people quietly listening, this cozy, this soul, is quiet and quietly elegant beauty and enjoyment.
Listen to the snow, or sit through the window, or sit in the snow, or lie in the snow, or in the snow, with your eyes closed,
Empty heart, listen to the pure snow, listen to the snow, listen to snow, listen to snow, listen to snow,
Listen to the snow dance bamboo, listen to the snow to touch the wind, listen to the snow, listen to the crisp sound of the snow, listen to the snow quiet footsteps, listen to the snow simple and beautiful poetry, listen to the soft words of snow. "This is the moment when the snow is heard, it will be a beautiful lotus, lonely, thin and gloomy. But most of the time, it's a surprise. The snow is the soul of winter, the soul of snow, also pure and persistent, and the dust. But most of the time, the earth and the earth in one, the human snow oneness, and then amazed the time of the vegetarian meditation.
Listen to the snow, best in the north, because the north is the place of the snow, and can hear the feeling and the spirit of the snow.
Listen to the snow in the mountain, the mountain is empty, the heart is small. The empty only can hear the snow's original life - empty and white, white and empty, empty is white, white is empty; Empty, what can hold, how much, how much; White, besmear what is what, besmear more besmear, all by oneself. Small is the zen of the soul of snow -- small is big, big and small, and nothing else. The small of the heart is only the snow, the small of the heart is the universe.
Listen to the snow at night, the night is quiet, the person is quiet, the heart is still. Still only the groans of pain when the snow was crushed, and only the cold, cold sound of the snow fox, still only the sound of snow and the sound of the heart beating; It was black and black, white and white, and so empty; This emptiness is "the most brilliant moment in the mountains and rivers. It's worth it.
Listen to the snow on the lake, a boat with a hook, one li a pot of wine, half zen half Buddha, half awake half drunk half life. In the snow, there is always a kind of voice, from the lonely to hear the spiritual, from the lonely to hear life; Life is often in the moment of a quiet, a quiet, a wake up, only to appear real and elegant.
Listen to snow in huts, a batch of a tea a harp, a pen, paper, people, the snow outside, listen to the snow song, listen to the snow to play songs and everyone is in the snow, symbol, is only a comma, there is no end; Everyone is the note on the string, simple and beautiful.
Listen to snow in merlin, "both intentional and don't say it is the highest state of love, because this time, two people are enjoying their eyes relative when the fiery psychology, enjoy and fingers touching the heartquake when"; Snow contains mei xiang, may dyeing Snow White, two pure and clear heart is striking happy years.
Listen to the snow in the temple, the snow rock zhong pan, its sound ancient quiet; The sound of snow drumming is quiet; Outside the temple, empty nothingness, only snow dance; In the temple, the chant is silent, but only the snow; With the small zen of the temple, the universe is large, and the meditation of the monk is the movement of all things. In the moment of listening to the snow, everything in the world becomes plain and beautiful. There is no dispute, no contest, no class, no pain. There is no clear-cut distinction between the powerful and the common people, money and status, and everything seems to be harmonious, peaceful, and holy.
Sitting in the winter, standing still in the snow, listening to snow is the mood. A person's life, but is the touch of the heart, or one, or two, or more heart to collide together; Or foolish or foolish, or foolish or wise, or disputing or fighting, or sparing or parting, but all end to silence and the soul to one.

Let me feel the warm old house

Le 8 janvier 2018, 05:29 dans Humeurs 0

I often think of my old house. A place that makes me happy and warm.
From my memory, it has been standing there like an ancient tree that has weathered the storms. Let us rest in the harbor at home. When it was built, I was not quite sure.
Located in a remote village of 852 farms in the reclamation area of heilongjiang province, the old house is an ordinary farmhouse built on a mountain. Brick wall red tiles, wood doors and Windows. Four houses, a fire kang, are typical of the northeastern folk house structure rental serviced apartment. The furnishings were simple, except for a bee - brand sewing machine, and there was no other fancy furniture. The west end of the old house is a primeval forest, a natural oxygen bar, where the trees are in the sky, bosky and bosky, and the sound of the song, it is a good place to be in the hour. The old house was a mountain, a small, nameless, but a lot of trees, a lot of grass. The mountain wind blew, a faint smell of dandruff.
In retrospect, my family lived in the hills and dug the ground for the well. A hundred flowers in the spring; Hear the frogs croak; Autumn harvest; Winter mu wind snow. It is a blessed place to have the hills, the hills, the natural and the land.
The old house had no walls, and the draught was far away. Simple as it is, it is not luxurious at all. However, "the mountains are not high, there is a fairy name; Water is not deep, but dragons are. In my opinion, the old house is not shabby, it is my heart, it is more expensive than the mansion in the city, which makes me want to go.
The old house was the source of my life, and my body was filled with the blood of the old house, and the marrow was filled with the genes of the old house.
It can make me cry, make me laugh, let me look back, in time and space conversion, can let me find the reality and the past node. In the film of life, you can touch the temperature and vicissitudes of time. Let me no matter how far, how long, have a way home.
Unfortunately, I lived in the old house soon after I got into college in the early 1980s and left the old house. Our family left it on and off. It was like an abandoned old man who stood alone for the rest of the year, watching the back of us, and we never lived with it for years. To become a guest in the land of the wandering son, began the spirit of the wandering master of chemistry hong kong.
It's been years since I left the house. The bird is fond of the old forest, the fish think of the deep, I am like a kite no matter how far up, the heart is tied a red line in the old house. The total fantasy becomes a cloud float to the old house.
Finally, I set foot on the land where I fell in love. I returned to my old house at sunset. Like a son and daughter in a foreign country back to their parents.
When I stood at the entrance of the village and looked at it deeply, it was like sleeping in a deep sleep. Perhaps it was too tired, and it slept so peacefully and quietly and sweetly as the mountains that stretched across the distance. Not even my arrival.
I approached the old house in silence, and suddenly in my mind the poem of liu changqing, "the sun is far, the White House is poor". There was no noise in the old house; The birds languorously perched on the trees next to it, and combed their feathers. Perhaps they were as I was now -- I dared not push open the wooden door, afraid that I might disturb the old house, and shatter its dream.
The old house is really old. The walls were covered with moss, the concrete walls under the windowsill had been peeled off, and the door frame could only see the shadow of the spring couplet that had been posted in the past. The glass on the door and window was broken, and there were several dark black holes. The two doors opened a deep, shallow crack, like a crow's feet dotted around the old man's forehead. I looked at our old house is difficult to control, roof as if still in the chimney smoke from kitchen chimneys, firewood rice smell seems to be flowing around, in a trance I saw hard-working mothers in hearth beside busy scene, my tears flow to • • • • • •
The same evening in memory, the setting sun was sinking, the chickens and ducks, the geese, walked in the same direction -- the old house of smoke and smoke. After school MD Senses, our sister played hidden cat. That's when we're happiest. You hide me, in front of the house, in the stubble, and in every nook and cranny. The dusk was going to close, and mother was standing on the dirt road in front of her house, calling for us to go home for dinner, or to bring us home with the calloused hand. Then home poor, does not have wide variety of goods, we like to eat most is my mother with the surface to processing of rectangular sawtooth biscuits, a catty of biscuits around 27, eight pieces, eat a sweet heart. Wayan is very concerned about us, and some of our lives take the initiative to do it. It was her job to divide the biscuits. She gave us the cookies fairly. We were all wrapped in our pretty little handkerchiefs. Four younger sisters, her biscuits are often cheated by us into the belly.
Mother is the busiest man in the family. In the old house there was a ticket for a sewing machine, and there was a sound of dada dada in the room, which was the mother's hard sewing. The four sisters wrote well, she often gave her mother an emotional recitation of her masterpiece at the sewing machine, and every mother's face would show a smile of pride and happiness.
The mother had no culture, only one year's book, and ate all the hard work without culture. She paid special attention to our study, and often told us the importance of reading. Sometimes we lay on the table in the light of the kerosene lamp and wrote homework, and mother worked side by side with us.
His father was a soldier in the army, who was a soldier in the village. He was a good cadre in the village, and he would never get a penny from the public. He doesn't pay much, and the family of seven is scraping by on his meager income. Although life is hard, my father still scrimped and saved to buy some famous books, comic books and storybooks. The third sister was enthusiastic, and she volunteered to be the home librarian. She locked the book in a wooden box. Read books to borrow from her, books can't be a little broken, or you can't get them out. Often because the book has a little corner, we have to say nice things to her sister, especially the four girls who like reading, reading fast, always following her behind her buttocks to borrow books.
My cousin, who was living with us, joined the book. His cousin was a young man who loved to draw and was not taught, and a horse was painted to life. The third sister likes horses. In order to borrow books, his cousin always paints horses and changes books.
Our sisters have been reading and studying in the old house when they are free, and there is a strong atmosphere at home. My father's face was smiling whenever we saw us reading at the table, yard or corner. The father must have not read the words in the night of the siege, but he knew that the poor in his family would also teach his children to read well. In retrospect, my parents were enlightened and visionary. Later, five of our sisters were admitted to the university, and a local name was known as "five golden flowers". In particular, the fourth sister, who was the top scholar in the college entrance examination of the state administration of agricultural reclamation, was admitted to the southwest university of political science and law, and is now a top ten lawyer in Qingdao, which is a great career. After I graduated from college, I worked in middle school, and I also mixed some "honor". Now Qingdao development zone also has its own business.
It is a miracle that an ordinary peasant family has walked out of five college students. Today, our sisters have a successful career and a happy family. It must be nice to have a parent.
Now the mountain is still, the water is still, the old house is still, but the old house no longer see the parents around the fire to add coal. And we don't have the sound of borrowing books around our three girls. Everything is quiet. The earth is silent, the old house speechless. The old house seems to bless us in a special way, silently recalling my endless memories.
The old house embraces us, we are the children from its embrace to the new world.
The old house has feelings, warmth, elegance, more verve, energy and taste. It nurtures us, edifies us, inspires us. It is the cradle of our growth and the monument to our hearts. The old house will live forever, with the sun and the moon.
I stroked the old house, feeling that it was so kind and warm, like a mother's hand, though old but warm. Every place is so familiar. Almost every place has a story, a fairy tale, a laugh and a laugh.
Leaving the old house, I dared not look back. Because I know the old house must be like me, with tears in my eyes.

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