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It is the prose "Flower Demolition" Zhang Xiaofeng.
The bud is a pupa and is a condensed beauty that is unshown and unspoiled. The flower bud is the riddle of the first month, and there can be a thousand riddles before you guess it. The bud is a fetus that seems to be drowning in ignorance, but sometimes likes to confirm itself with strong fetal movements.
The beauty of the flower lies in its creation out of nothing, in its poor changes. Sometimes, overnight, the flowers are dismantled, and sometimes, in half a morning, the flowers are fat, and the beauty of the flowers is not all in the color and fragrance, but in the incredible. I like to sit cautiously and wait for the epiphany to bloom, in fact, the epiphany is not too good-looking flowers, its beauty lies in the desert association of its cactus life experience, and the mourning brought by its sudden death, but the dismantling of the epiphany is a solid beauty, like a love story, beauty in the process, not in the end.
There is a kind of moon-yellow epiphany, called "Queen of the Night", every time it shudders, it will shake out a bang, like the sound of the embroidery needle piercing after the embroidery bandage is tightened, and all the delicate stamens are suddenly followed by a shock, and the scene often makes people dare not look at it for a long time - after seeing it for a long time, they can't help but believe the statement of the flower essence. I often leave before the flowers are full, and as soon as the flowers stop dismantling, death begins. One day, when I am old and can't see the flowers, I would like to use a bunch of small spring mulberry pillows as a receiver to listen to the telecommunications of the flowers and flowers, and know the ** of the flowers every night.
Note: Flower dismantling, that is, flower blooming. The image of the word "demolition" shows the process of blooming.
From Shen Qianyun of the Tang Dynasty: "Today's spring is warm, and the east wind apricot blossoms are demolished".
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It's a prose poem, not a prose, it's one, the same as Gorky's petrel.
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1, "Saying "Diligence"" Lin Jiazhen.
Be diligent in learning, thinking, exploring, practicing, and summarizing. Looking at ancient and modern China and foreign countries, those who have made achievements are here.
On every page of its history, there is a shining big word written with hard sweat - "diligence".
2, "Flower Demolition" Zhang Xiaofeng.
Demolition, then I would like to use a bunch of small spring mulberry pillows as a receiver, listen to the telecommunications of thousands of plants and flowers, and know the sound of flower dismantling every night.
Happy. 3, "Me" Bingxin.
Speaking of me, walking and talking with my classmates in the courtyard, and from morning to night, I am surrounded by the world, which is widely recognized by everyone.
Mine: Whether it's really me or not is also a question!
4, "Reverence for Life" Zhang Xiaofeng.
State, located in the eastern part of the United States. by the lake. At first, I was casually sitting reading a book, when I suddenly noticed a few trees by the lake.
There were some white fibers drifting away, large clumps, like cotton, some floating to the grass, some floating into the lake. I.
At that time, I didn't pay much attention to it, but it was just brought about by an accidental wind.
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Let's watch Jian Yuan's "Faint Woods". and Bi Shumin's is also good, they all have a good understanding of life.
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This is the address of the small ** bar.
There will be many types in it.
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You can take a look at the magazine.
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I'll tell you the name of the article, and you go to check "Flower Demolition", which is also Zhang Xiaofeng's Bingxin, "A White Rose" and "Read Me".
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Look in the mirror, look at the mirror, exactly in the mirror.
The person in is not me. This is a doubt! in the classroom.
I listened to the lectures, walked and talked with my classmates in the courtyard, and I walked around the world from morning to night, and everyone recognized me as mine: whether it was really me is also a question!
It is also a question whether the me in everyone's eyes and the me in my own heart are the same me!
I sit alone at night, I wake up from a dream, and there is an occasional minute and a second in the three hundred and sixty-five days of the year.
It is also a question of whether I, who feel that I have unspeakable circumstances and thoughts, who am in the classroom, and who am in the classroom, and who are moving around the world, are the same me. This question is always a question! These two I, can never be analyzed.
If there is no hope of analyzing him, one must hope to unite him. I'm all around the world! In times of distraction and worry, please don't forget me sitting alone at night!
I'm sitting alone at night! In the silence and clarity, please don't forget me who is around the world! Remembering each other! Phase traction! Hold hands and move towards the future!
Looking in the mirror and looking, the person in the mirror is not me. This is a doubt! in the classroom.
I listened to the lectures, walked and talked with my classmates in the courtyard, and I walked around the world from morning to night, and everyone recognized me as mine: whether it was really me is also a question!
It is also a question whether the me in everyone's eyes and the me in my own heart are the same me!
I sit alone at night, I wake up from a dream, and there is an occasional minute and a second in the three hundred and sixty-five days of the year.
It is also a question of whether I, who feel that I have unspeakable circumstances and thoughts, who am in the classroom, and who am in the classroom, and who are moving around the world, are the same me. This question is always a question! These two I, can never be analyzed.
If there is no hope of analyzing him, one must hope to unite him. I'm all around the world! In times of distraction and worry, please don't forget me sitting alone at night!
I'm sitting alone at night! In the silence and clarity, please don't forget me who is around the world! Remembering each other! Phase traction! Hold hands and move towards the future!
1. There is a kind of flower that you don't see, but believe that it exists. There is a sound that you don't hear, but you know you know. Life is a left ticket that can be stopped at any time, and love can cross life and death when it is at its most mellow. >>>More
Nostalgia for Spring.
Spring must have been like this: from the green and restrained hills, a handful of snow can no longer hold it, a puff, a cold face will be smiled into a flower, a song will be sung from the clouds to the foothills, from the foothills to the low deserted villages, sung into the hedgerow, sung into the yellow webs of a duckling, sung into the soft and dissolved spring mud - as soft as a freshly turned quilt. >>>More
The above de facto yes in fact.
Prose refers to a literary and artistic genre that uses words as the object of creation and aesthetics, and is a genre form in literature. Since the Six Dynasties, in order to distinguish it from rhyme and prose, all prose articles that do not rhyme and do not rearrange are generally called prose. With the evolution of the concept of literature and the development of literary genres, the concept of prose has also changed from time to time, and in some historical periods, ** and other lyrical and narrative literary works are collectively referred to as prose, so as to distinguish it from poetry that emphasizes rhyme. >>>More
The flowers of dandelions are yellow. And the bulbous, fluffy, and fluttering seeds that can be scattered in the wind with a blow are already ripe. >>>More