Throughout, it has been involuntary to look into the distance from the window at dusk. But it's unintentional to see anything. What I dream and ponder about has been distant from me for a thousand years, unable to be seen, yet close at hand. If I want to disturb myself, I can just casually open a collection of poems, just pure gazing into the distance. As for hoping for something, I may not want to say it explicitly, but when I'm about to speak, I feel involuntarily intoxicated and think it's because of those who taught me that since we met, I have been unconsciously obsessed with the shadows. They have always been like light wine, making people immerse themselves in a slight intoxication and depth. At this moment, I really don't know which esteemed poet's poetic sentiment will evoke the joy of this bright moon.
Suddenly, I firmly believe that the world is so worthy.
She is like the thoughts of the ancient scholars, teaching me that from the first sight until now, I am still deeply intoxicated. But whether a poet or a literati, even if I believe that the clear and ethereal, graceful and gentle, distant and warm smile at this moment is more on my mind, this clear and warm smile or graceful figure is just a reflection, but I always think that she carries her unique thoughts and emotions, and our encounter is truly a foolish fantasy. Yet, this dreamy fantasy is so gentle, warm, and even more real and romantic.
In one's lifetime, there must always be a foolish dream in one's heart, otherwise, where does romance come from?
Without dwelling on the past, it's all in the distant past, but I still wonder how the esteemed scholars of the past are feeling at this moment. I often involuntarily think about it, but at this moment, it's ultimately not the Tang family or the Song Academy, the hometown that I have always longed for. The beauty of that time has not faded or withered in my heart. The scholars are still leaning against the west window, gazing intently, still asking the fallen petals without words. Perhaps there is no need to seek anything further.
The shadows that have been shared with the moonlight have no concern whether the side at this moment is a small building or a tall building, it's just a thought about affection, and it's fortunate that it's a thought between affections. Later, my gaze and the shadows will return, and if I'm lucky, the solitary figure walking by the Lize Lake will still be there, living in the air or between the pages, what's the difference?
I think at this moment, the moonlight between my brows and in my arms is just like this.
In the past, I couldn't help but sigh, not like this continuous and clear shadow of the sky, showing me how much I love the world, but it's powerless to reflect the brilliance and elegance of the Tang family and the Song Academy that have lasted for thousands of years. Gradually, this shy and awkward affection in my heart fades, almost disappearing.
It's not that I'm tired, but at this moment, what's deeply held in my heart is no longer about the world, often not worth mentioning, but an indispensable speck of dust.
This text is synchronized and updated by Mix Space to xLog. The original link is https://nishikori.tech/posts/prose/2022-10-30.