In this world, there are many things that bring joy. Throughout, there have been countless thoughts and beliefs, but it's not just about oneself. It's always about talking to others involuntarily. However, it's not the same as before. It's like seeing the moon in the small building at this moment. It's just thinking about the clearness of this small window. It's also the elegance of this place. I just want to see the boundless world, the limit that the house is hard to see. In the past, I did have some narrow thoughts, but now it can be said to be a "rebirth" of affection. It's also the bright silver eyebrows that are always pouring out regardless of the weather. They often speak to me in silence.
Perhaps in the beginning when I first met her, it was a moment, maybe gradually, but it was only because of the affinity of this place. It was nothing more than the lightness of the eyes that had already snowed the long night, and the graceful figure that was already green and green at hand. It made my heart more and more unintentional, and I felt that the writing for this heart has become somewhat unfamiliar. I think it is a thought for each other, a thought that holds on.
I can't help but have some silly thoughts. In the beginning, she might have been like this, just intoxicated in the clarity of the small window. It's like the general elegance. I am clearly such a "selfish" person. Seeing that the night sky, which used to be as clear as washing, is gradually becoming longer, I can't help but feel regret and melancholy. At this time, I am fortunate to be writing under the moon, and she is shining in her eyes. This is the deepest thought in my heart, and it may be the bond of some past shadows that I haven't come up with yet.
Having said that, there are always some foolish people in this world. It's appropriate to say that they are silly. Thinking about the golden horse of Wei Que and the thatched cottage of Penglai, it's just a general thought. Holding a jade seal in hand is better than holding a bald pen. Perhaps this bald pen, half ink and loose ink, often has no chance of being recorded in history, but this unintentional thought is willing to bow down to the ink left by the past, the ancient emotions in each volume. Where is it all about leaving a name? It's not pretending to be indifferent, it's good for me, and it's good for her. Fame is always pleasing, but there is always a moment when you have to think about it. At this fortunate moment, how can I not be happy to write?
Let me conclude with two simple poems. The thought of affection has always been without any unnecessary words.
Introduction to the Singing of the Oriole
The shadow of the spring courtyard is still the same, and the sea of red plum is as intoxicating as wine. The slender plum is thin, and the curtain is full of early fragrance, which brings idle worries. In the flowing silver courtyard, the sound of the string and the white sleeves, the Xiangxiang tune turns in the Guanghan autumn. Leaning on the steps at night, the oriole's song is as familiar as before. Looking at the western building, the moon is hanging among the willows, and the fragrance of orchids is after dusk. Standing by the fence, the Du Ruo is thin and quiet. Sighing for the flowers, it's hard to say goodbye. It's all gone in a hurry, and the Li song is tired of playing. The sad dream of the years, it makes people feel deeply, flowing eastward like a river. In the chrysanthemum garden, the grass in the orchid garden is gradually withering, and the two are facing each other in a quiet manner. The buried decayed stamens, the fallen red without trust is hard to collect, the cassia soul of the laurel, the lotus bones and the hibiscus skin, where are they now? Pity the flowers and the sad leaves, cherish the branches and the desolate, foolishly chasing the sleeves of Chu. The gardens of Chu, Song, and Tang, are all worried about the flowers, and new talents can still be seen.
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In the third spring, the silent courtyard is heavy, and the deserted branches cast old shadows. The night snow dances again, and the dim candle talks to the dusty face. The fragrant orchids and jade lilies search for autumn frost, and the pure clematis and clean lotus become dim at night. The sorrow of the previous dynasty is no longer there, and the clear pool is guarded by rinsing jade.
This article is also updated to xLog by Mix Space. The original link is https://nishikori.tech/posts/prose/2022-01-28