Recitation: when the wind and rain come at night, how many flowers fall

 Recitation: when the wind and rain come at night, how many flowers fall

Wind, rain, dripping Li Li

Year by year, moss marks on the green, grass into the curtain green, dyed all over the mountains. That distant rain, why is still as clear as yesterday?

Year after year, listening to the wind and rain, a step before, drip to the dawn. That beautiful dream, why wake up and find no place?

I cant remember what you were like. I only remember that year when the peach and pear trees were full of flowers of previous lives. When the wind came and rain fell, the flying flowers were like dreams. All over the sky, your dimple was like spring flowers, and your figure was like green onions.

I cant remember your mood at that time. I only remember that you often stood on the top of the mountains in those years. You yearned for the world on the other side of the mountain, and your eyes were shining.

If growth means vicissitudes, then I hope never to grow up; if life is like a dream, then I hope the dream will never wake up.

If the beginning means the end, then I would rather not meet; if gathering means parting, then I would rather rain after rain, I believe you are due to rain missed return.

Walking in the world, I finally understand that some people do not know what they want in their whole life, and some people are fascinated by something or someone, simple and stubborn, and devote their whole life.

After all, I am the one who lives half drunk and half awake, left hand fireworks, right hand poetic. I would like to be like fog, like rain, hazy and ethereal, in their favorite way, incisively and vividly live a life, is not not a kind of the greatest satisfaction.

Peach, plum and spring breeze a cup of wine, the lake night rain lamp for ten years. Looking back, the mist was heavy. In the ups and downs of the world, reconciliation with oneself, no care, no explanation, no tangle, no make do, reading tea, appreciating flowers and listening to the rain, is also a kind of wealth and freedom.

I know very well that a flower withers, cant barren the whole spring; a leaf withers, vicissitudes cant the whole wilderness. A man with thought is always the most powerful man; a man with soul is the one who lives like himself most.