Similar to writing a poet s prose in 300 words

The scenery outside the window is still the same, and whether the viewer in front of the window is seen as a landscape by others, and the effort to decorate the dream is indeed a cold heart. Once upon a time, I thought that forever, forever forever, was indeed the once of all, in the sunlight of walking alone, you are still bright, disappearing face, irreproducible mood, I can only watch it rise, change into clouds in the wind.

The retention of words is the last obsession, and the constantly changing mood has nothing to do with words.

The years are like a song, the glitz is like a dream, what remains unchanged is the heart that is always galloping, in this withered petals, the rental shed cavity shines a really messy memory, in this inconsequential season, I hope my palm can still gather temperature.

In the noisy night, I was alone and peaceful. The rain was thin, the long road was shaking, and the narrow back became clearer and clearer under the lightning. Turn around, leave a sigh and a sigh, and leave a dust.

Lost in the journey of memories, regardless of happiness; I don't like sorrow, I don't want to be lonely. But memories are just a look back on the past life, and the entanglement of this life is the fate of my three lives, and I hope that I can turn into a bird in the next life, just fly, without staying.

washed away the vicissitudes of life and left deep affection. The simple beauty dissipates like smoke and rain, and wanton fatigue is diffused in this rainy season of spring women's kindness.

It's true.

There is a girl from a well-off family in a village, who is born beautifully, and many people come to be matchmakers, but none of them say it. She was only fifteen or sixteen years old that year, and it was a spring evening, and she stood at the back door of the rotten Han, holding the peach tree in her hand. She remembered that she was wearing a moon-white shirt.

The young man who lived at the door, who had met her, but had never said hello, came over, not far away, stood still, and said softly, "Oh, are you here too?" She didn't say anything, he didn't say anything more, stood for a while, and went their separate ways.

That's it.

Later, this woman was abducted by her relatives, sold to him to be a concubine in other counties of his hungry and laughing township, and was resold several times, after countless thrilling turmoil, when she was old, she still remembered the old days, and often talked about the young man on that spring evening, under the peach tree at the back door.

Meet the person you want to meet among thousands of people, in the endless wilderness of time for thousands of years, there is no earlier or later step, just in time, then there is nothing else to say, but to ask softly: "Oh, are you here too?" ”

April 1944).

Zhang Ailing "Love".

Prose punch type Tong net rent eggplant yourself scattered to find.

The sky in May will always give people a little excitement for a while, the mountain flowers are grateful, the grass grows and the warbler flies, and the green is like it. I stood at the end of the world on the other side, looking at the lights of the river. - Theme.

Gangnam is a good place, and there may be many people who know it and have experienced it themselves. I was born in Gangnam, and there is no doubt that I have a deep affection for this land of Gangnam. Here, Jiangnan has nurtured my ancestors for generations, and perhaps, will also give birth to my children and grandchildren.

The mountains in the south of the Yangtze River are good, the water is good, and the people are better! Approaching the south of the Yangtze River, it is not difficult for us to find that there are a lot of strange mountains and strange mountains, there are hundreds of beautiful animals, the water flows from the bottom of the mountain, like a waterfall, and it is surging; The stream flows from the side of the mountain, soft and delicate, just like a woman's waist, graceful and colorful.

At the end of the stream, there are villages, where smoke curls and mist clouds fly, like a fairyland, making people unconsciously fascinated. The most fascinating, in fact, has to be counted as the people here, they are industrious and simple, plain and clean, hospitable, people can't help but be crazy, kind and dense.

The men and women here have lived a carefree life for generations, they work at sunrise and return at sunset, although the days are hard, but their faces are full of simple smiles, this smile, how precious and innocent!

In the early summer of May, after April, the trembling land arrived, and the golden sun shone on the land golden. The gentle breeze blows the leaves of the mountain, making a loud noise, and the birds chirping non-stop, adding luster and brightness to this early summer in the south of the Yangtze River. And whenever it is night, the Jiangnan is immersed in this hazy night, indescribably quiet, only a few frogs are still cooing, playing in the river pond, so leisurely.

The summer in the south of the Yangtze River is so clear, the drizzle warms this beautiful land, the smoke and rain are red and dusty, full of the slightest affection, and under the unexpected circumstances, it slowly opens.

Jiangnan, this haunting place, this fascinating and beautiful world, has left people with one good memory after another, and left one immortal legend after another.

In Jiangnan, there are my delightful people, my hometown and my amiable neighborhood. Villagers, they are the most valuable wealth in my life, and they are my family affection that I will never forget.

For thousands of years, the lights in the south of the Yangtze River have not diminished, and they are still flourishing like flowers. If you want to see the lights, Gangnam is undoubtedly the best place to go, and it will let you know how good it is there!

The heart is like a lonely ship, freedom is reversed by the unbridled wind, helpless to quietly dry the dusty shore, the ocean, has become a strange vastness, accompanied by it, only the defeat of Hui is the fallen leaves falling on the shore, returning to the roots, speechless, down the river, so, the autumn water wants to wear, silent for many years.

Loneliness, more beautiful than fireworks, a person looking at the rain outside the window, the combination of memories and thoughts into a poetic artistic conception, poignant happiness wells up in the heart, the corners of the mouth, there will always be a bitter and affectionate smile.

Loneliness, more lonely than fireworks, always feel that the beauty of that moment, will separate you and me into two strange worlds, from now on can only chew on the loneliness you gave in your thoughts, the depth of the years, still tossing and turning but not seeing the future.

It was raining heavily outside the window, and my heart felt a quiet pain. Quiet, because the heart is extremely cold, suddenly more rational, don't want to cry, don't want to laugh, expressionless, and seems to lack a heart and lungs, the air also seems to condense a kind of desolate gentleness, this dark rainy night, less moonlight, more deserted, between breathing, gentleness and sadness coexist, the only thing that is not quiet, is the sycamore ...... that is beaten by the rain

A person is not lonely, but thinking about a person is lonely and painful, because there is longing, silence has become a crime, loneliness has become a relationship with me, how can I find a reason to blame anyone? I didn't hesitate to answer the pace of life, but I will never be able to buy a ticket that I have forgotten.

Lu Juan is the author of a collection of prose poems "Wild Grass" and a collection of essays "Morning Flowers and Sunset".

"Wild Grass" includes "Autumn Night", "Snow", "Farewell of Shadows", "Hope", "Kite" and other works

"From the Hundred Herb Garden to the Three Flavors Study", "Fan Ainong", "Mr. Fujino", "Father's Illness", "A Kuan Xunchang and the Classic of Mountains and Seas" and so on.

Zhu Ziqing and Hu Shi wrote well.

The frost and cold river of Yu Qiuyu!