I stand in spring, where are you

Honey, I'm running in the Su Causeway in the morning.

Woke up in the morning in the Yang Gong Di, dressed up to the window outside to have a look, doubting that he was still in the dream, fixed mind and force to see again: outside the flower bed of the white magnolia open ah branches can not bear! It was a strange flower. There was not a leaf on the tree, and the branches were thin, but the flowers were big and fat, and all by themselves, sharp and dainty. The distant magnolia is a piece of white, the near point is a layer of pink, pink white, layer upon layer spread to the window below. Well, what's the use of them without you? Why would I come if you weren't here? Yes, you're right. Some landscapes are still and thrilling.

Dressed, I put my foot hesitantly on the yard moss, as if stepping into a transparent, boundless bubble and entering its interior: I am standing in the spring, where are you? I gently stroked the wall ivy, fine antennae like sewing a wound on the wall, the wound is silent, like you...... Are you still in the dream? I slept soundly last night, with early spring cultivating my dreams all around me, but instead of dreaming of you, I dreamed of being very small, wandering down an old street, with a whole two dollars in my pocket! I walked from the peanut stand to the gazpacho stand, in no hurry to buy, carrying a child with less certainty and quiet. I am still intoxicated with the happiness of being so assured. Feel my pocket, there are really two coins, ha ha. Am I fine? That puts your mind at ease. Outside the courtyard, a strange bird with a long, flowery tail glided down, as if it did not touch the ground. It stopped at a trot and looked at me steadily with its large, bright eyes. I raised my hand slightly and it "goo"... I suddenly feel miserable! How can I tell you the full story of what happened while you were gone? !

As I ran, the clear mist hung from my ears and floated back, and there was still more ahead to pass through. I breathe, obviously very fresh air, but I feel like pure oxygen suffocating. The new green of the willow trees on the bank was so green that the roots of one's teeth were tender. The hairs were fluttering in the wind, and they followed my thoughts. A glance out, oh, is the West Lake ah, everything in front of me, is made of calm water and not bright sky. The water was flat enough for a foot to reach, and the far boat was ripening with black cormorants. I ran and ran, the little tiles and paving-stones slipping and sliding under my feet, for it was morning, after all, and the dew was heavy. Dear, I feel comfortable, very short miss you.

But then I stopped, gasping for air, and you came at me from all sides. The sun will come out soon.

Well, I'll miss you seriously and unavoidably. What are you? Just talking to you all the time, telling you what you see? So what I see here is a dark red mushroom mushroom, little round on the surface of the water, in clusters, changing the direction of the sunlight that has just come out of the clouds. I looked at it and stayed -- because wild mushrooms had been spread far away. Wait for me to come back, and then look at the water, slowly I saw the fish swimming in it, they are still small, are dark gray back, spring to hatch out soon, no wonder in the light gray water do not pay attention to is invisible. Many, they are dense, more and more - I lost a cookie, cookie centered, the fish form a ring of radiation. I straightened up and wiped the crumbs off my hands, feeling sad. Honey, I think life is short, and everything I see is amazing, and we're very different about that. You always think there's more. Look around. If you could see things growing (they're so obvious), wouldn't you think something was irrevocable? I sucked the water of the West Lake with my eyes greedily, just as I sucked your eyes when I parted.

I looked at all the plants, animals, people, but the real joy in my heart came from afar. What you said to me was not so flowery, but it was very meaningful, and to my ears it had a heavy, sleepy scent of flowers. You are very affectionate, very tired, you always sleep very tired, very dissatisfied, often fall into a dream, you are shrouded in inexplicable sadness. Once, you said that you woke up in the West Lake, walking on the bank, and suddenly felt that you were breathing air from the thick water surface. I wasn't there then, just like you're not here now. We are always not in front of each other, let the beauty miss. Perhaps I can console myself with the thought that day and night are one connected world after all.

A boat, pushing open the ripples, slowly coming.

My dear, like the prow of this ship, I have a kind of courage to break the waves; And you are like this stern, which is just the end of time. You have a rather late maturity of serious, like the winter slow sunshine persistent meticulous shining on cotton shoes; And I, it is this sensitive and constantly changing Su Causeway, Chunxiao.