• Article about the Indus

    Part One: Indus next monsoon blowing wind, clouds scattered, fluttering leaves sprinkled earth.Yunjuanyunshu, drip drip water eastward.Every time I hear the wind through the window of the plane trees sound, we have to meditate for a long time, a man should be like a gust of wind, swept away, little guilty.Suddenly look back, often leaving traces, memories of a lifetime!  Always root leaves, sand total change, all in all wind moving.  Manshan looked dark green margin, near Tangshui distant forest, spring really has green tree south.Green is the messenger of spring.Indus window outdone, green branches over green branches, covered with the new tender, filled with hope!Perhaps only one person a lifetime view that Indus greener processes, that is, pieces of beautiful beautiful thing!Currently not drunk, laugh hope the world three arrival of spring, why not look at the window alone tree!  To make their fortune!The heat of summer, a time when the Indus flowers age to take advantage of the light blocking my window, the whole house gloomy bear.But hot weather, meaning just learned person, but the evening breeze to eliminate the day’s fatigue.However, a person doing something they think is beautiful and the people useless things, just as with the Sahara sand walls, and meaningless!Spring dream to sail the Indus, enjoy it in the summer sway, sway potential repressed vitality in the.It shall be like a tree as motivated.Dream bravely, boldly break!Life was brilliant!  The fresh autumn breeze, the Indus stepped into the peak of life.It looked at the window, think about the wonderful life, without regrets!At this point it seems powerless, rushing it leaves my heart in the blood, had yellowed with green jacket, the wind is no mercy, is advertised with sycamore: From ancient times many trials and hardships, Mo reluctantly, to the highest floor of life, empty dedication!  Xue Piaopiao big, relentless north wind hit, but smiled Indus, completely want to open, dressed in white fur coat, standing quietly in the snow, so stable, so tall and straight.Healthy and strong, understandable.Silent meditation, would not ease!  Next year; I’m still in the window, leaning against the fence to sit, the Indus today or last year’s tree!Indus has not changed, the wind figure has not changed, change is people, is the symphony of life!    Part II: Indus poem bookmark bookmark yesterday became today’s last words Indus corrosion in the rain, whenever there as a silent sadness flowing on the wound of time, and thus into the game shattered dreams.  Who can turn into a pond of clear water, wash my tired heart?  Who can recite a poem, to soothe my lonely soul?  Dawn will first reach the intersection which is quiet ancient lane, or vulgar prosperity of the city?Travel alone and be shared isolation, the smile not just a one-man show of narration.  The thin cold late autumn is the opening ceremony of the winter, look forward to the snow, waiting for the flowers.Once again reincarnation, not tired of it, only traces of the years, how long years, how long have reincarnation.  Make slaves of time, no one to contradict that follows the same rules do not fall, I believe that fate has gradually become foolish, the stars shine era of faith blocked, cry to your eyes, or my heart?  Cold night because the dream of precipitation, have you, have I, just like the stars of the sky, the sky torn to pieces, until the first ray of sunshine on the horizon stitching it.  Open yellowed diary, falling a parasol bookmark, context clear, like a net, but it can live it what network?Only written records of those forgotten.  Instant dust to dust, to be honored season, affecting the vicissitudes of arterial.There is an umbrella, the rain stopped nor reap; a flower, wither nor lost; there is a feeling, black hair to white hair, last forever.  Vows not dare to listen, because talked became a bookmark, it can represent only existed.Commitments did not believe, because contrary would be a betrayal of context.  You use words to interpret body withered, it is the admiration of the soul, or the mockery of death?  You used to seal retained its cold corpse, is a poignant love or hate the land?  Fingertip touch juice flowing through the lines, as if moved there in the spring.    Part Three: fragrance in memory whenever the cool autumn Indus, on the sidewalk along the road Tsui white, sweet-scented osmanthus in full bloom.Green leaves set off the yellow of sweet-scented osmanthus open in the autumn wind rustling.Qing Hong overflowing, sweet flavor soak into the air.I inadvertently opened the window facing the street, downstairs laurel elegant aroma into the room with the romantic, lingering at the desk.”Heavy curtain does not roll your mouth for a long time,” I am very glad there are some good times, this fragrance will waft throughout every day of my shabby homes.Let dull, Kuji day, stretch and become limp limp in Smart aroma comes in.”Osmanthus stay late color, shade light shadow Autumn.”Thank you for giving me such sweet-scented osmanthus gorgeous autumn day!Sauna net osmanthus trees grace elegant, Bristol greenery, evergreen.Branches slender, pleasant Xiangpiao.Lu praised the “the United States who was the swagger of Guangxi”.This shows that since ancient times, by people like sweet-scented osmanthus.And became a symbol of the good things.Represents honor, noble, friendly, holy.Gui Xian myth of the moon, to give people unlimited beautiful reverie.Osmanthus beautify the urban environment is indeed a fine species.Today, the streets have been replaced by ginkgo trees, osmanthus, and law Wu, this was the only trees of the city, has long fade out of memory.Only in deep street alley, it seems able to glimpse its shadow.In the summer it’s that touch of shade, but also vaguely retained a longing for the passage of the years.  In the peace road, sidewalk trees as well as the year of the law Wu trees, dense canopy clouds on the thick trunk.That section of the road, can not see the rise of day.Swaying branches, large leaves, a shade hauntingly.To dusk, flying homing thousand of sparrows in the evening sun, perched in the tall trees of this law Wu trees.It seems to be the “custodial birds nostalgia forest”, for many years this is the home of the birds never give up.In Qiupu West santaishan Park and East Lake Road, next to the tall trees there are also law Wu trees, thick trunk to a few people encircle.It presents throughout the year most active state in the summer.Leafy, green Ye Liancheng branches of a tree-lined corridor, the wind blows the leaves of the trees sway cheerful, like to passers-by waved.In the town green leaves still shining bright long years.  The plane trees in the city have lived fifty years, it also rings in record pace this city.He witnessed the hard work of that era and today’s development and growth.The pace of progress through the city streets Indus, and is now walking in the streets of sweet-scented osmanthus fragrance.Fragrance in memory Indus, Indus along with my childhood grew up with, and I bid farewell to a seasons together.How many times hovering in the trees, took to the joy of the community, work happy, life’s troubles, stroked the shade of plane trees in the thick trunk, picked up a fallen leaf, heart extremely relieved.They just kind of familiar with their loved ones, the kind of intimacy, a sense of nostalgia is self-evident.Wu tree method described me many days of meditation, I can always pull stir up unlimited thoughts.Indus rain, bit by bit, Whispering with brilliant spring, summer and imaginative deep, rich autumn, winter.In front of the forest in the city, the city in the forest.Osmanthus bloom so bright, dark street alley of plane trees is still shines bright touch!I still forget their past love Chung.  Autumn pouring in the city landscape, the ginkgo tree about grace Zhuo, sweet-scented osmanthus tree city fragrance.In the streets, in parks, in the district.Kim Gui Yingui flowers like King, soaring aroma through the city pool.I also floated from the window mellow sweet-scented osmanthus, as if smell was from the moon in holding to Wu Gang osmanthus wine, intoxicated heart.    Part Four: Indus after lying in bed last night, did not sleep half the day over and over again.Come to mind memories of large chunks of the plane trees, dating back to this whole story because from my junior high school sophomore summer.When the school and my family is separated only by a wall only a slightly narrower aisle, with green leaves at the junction of the wall planted with plane trees schools, rough branches, thick bushy humble like palm.From the beginning I did not like, even hate them into pieces lush plane trees.Every time I stand in the living room and look through the windows of the playground, only vaguely see through the branches of the gap, the boys walked around and around in football and girls twenty-three around the playground until sunset sun goes down those noisy just disappeared, terminating in a quiet.I have been a result of someone else’s hide peep excellent domain.  All hidden are not accidental, did not want to let others know.Is actually a fruit, carefully wipe with a towel wrapped carefully, fills the expectations placed in a glass canister and tighten the cap to spend glue, everything is perfectly safe, carefully storage.A year that day, accidentally discovered in a small corner of the drawer, spend tremendous efforts are not open, and finally picked up a vicious hit to the ground, instantly broke into a piece, flashing bright light in sunlight, pick he once precious, many years after the original was so not worth mentioning.Is a note that read sincere want to unlock the misunderstanding has been gathering dust retention.It is a lack of moisture wither butterfly, with translations in the past period of good memories but already people have changed coexistence.  Three days to teach mathematics teacher, was a forties, flat head, face gully middle-aged men, often come to class did not pull his zipper, sometimes remind students that he keep a straight face in front of the students face one way or another, gradually more often no one to remind, but added a few of my classmates during recess to discuss the matter twitter.He lectures very serious native dialect and spittle flying.His math class I never listen, do not do the job, tests scrawl./ My language teacher, thirties, divorced man, an alcoholic, full of emotion, pumping some enterprising students and their ears in the classroom, teachers unusually quiet, loud slap in the face, you can feel the flesh back and forth between the vibration, the burning pain mostly young when anger and hate not willing.He urgent dissatisfied with the status quo, but tears are not the weak air their share of sorrow for the world.The Tang Dynasty poet Li He, Life Sorrow very worthy of grief, yearn to make merit, but days as people would like, frustrated at every turn, with anger and despair career away.”Only a month to bring the disk desolate, Weicheng has been far less sound wave”.How many people it takes a lifetime ambitions, because the situation eventually let the matter rest.Has in the past several years, I do not even remember the name of the language teacher, I do not know how he is now, his wife is the cause of glorious reunion, things are still as seen through the math teacher who took the meager wages of law-abiding alive.  Plane trees in many places throughout the city, patches of trees, its fruit is blindly traditional Chinese medicine, called Passepartout, just a street planted on the road full of Indus, soft green soothing the tired.In the latter days of spring, the weather is warm, covered with brown fuzz on Passepartout With the wind blowing, dancing flying, floating in the air dropped to the ground in doping pedestrian’s hair.  Near the other end of the balcony outside is a wide pedestrian many of the road, both sides are full of Indus, I often stood on the balcony, you can reach out and touch the blade of the Indus.Noon strong light is thick parasol trees obscure most of Enron’s holding a cup of coffee sitting on bamboo and rattan chair on the balcony, slowly tasting.Other students after another walked downstairs from the past to go to school, and I followed him.  Later he moved to place a few blocks from the school outside of a residential house very densely planted with camphor.Home furnishings or the same as the original, except that instead of the window into the dark exudes the smell of camphor, darkened room filled with the smell of damp rainy days.Fortunately, I prefer this slightly depressed deep feeling, it feels like being in a dark and can not be found to avoid hiding.  Are thin to school every day, and then another thin home, no one else is always walking, eyes straight ahead without crowds attracted by the surrounding scenery.Always I think someone inadvertently swept me privately glances, though these are feel-good, psychological and emotional cause trouble all the time.Live in the same district students and alumni more, they often play together in tennis near the stage together, I naturally will not be added, exaggeration to say I was a shy girl, a man accustomed to solitude, it is inevitable many people will show a lively atmosphere at a loss.Under study up to go home to find a brightly lit bustling place to go, to the cell door and saw my mother waiting there, glad I took her home with hand, mouth ramble, a sudden silence from less words of few words all of a sudden become noisy annoying.Then the corridor lamp is broken, dark night, I have myopia in addition to night blindness, lit flashlight ahead, my mother followed.I see the road in front of the flickering, most fear the gap behind empty as infinite black hole, growing lonely, lonely bloom, wither alone, but behind that road all the time to worry about the fear of the abyss.  June is coming soon, I still remember the torrential rain pouring camphor leaves blew off the floor, picked up a leaf and remain with a touch of flavor, no uneasy quickly ended, all the time I was indifferent unexamined, seems to have known then how to force myself to miss excited then, but in vain.No need to say goodbye to eleven, if I was a dull light singing, songs have been written in the late scores, look back on all but the fog wet process, after the reading time, the striking of the tall sycamore gradually fade out of my eyes, became a camphor tree and fruit are landing pedestrian spat crush sound.    Part Five: Indus scattered Delicate, clear, winter hanging.Standing parasol tree, leaves messy look faded in the air, flying.silent.  Once lush life, in the cold of winter, becomes vulnerable.Perhaps in order to understand the truth of existence, you will always want to leave next spring.  Chinese parasol tree people always come and gone, no one noticed the foot of life, and will not pay attention to these stories of life.Because we are too similar fate with leaves.  Someone asked, leaves the left, is the pursuit of the wind, or because they do not retain the tree.Perhaps this is a story about feelings.But in the winter, and would not have much of poetry, on the contrary, it is a contempt for human life.How come it?You might ask.  You probably have not remember youth shelter parasol tree, forget the warm yellow autumn tree leaves, and when winter comes, tree leaves constantly wandering, left alone branches, trembled in the cold.Because it is cold?No, because the less accompany leaves, branches also appears lonely, lonely.  Of course, this world is not the Indus is lonely, not just in the winter time will show Melancholy lonely.  Remember last winter, you and your loved one, hand in hand in the sunset share tender.Slight bow, shallow laugh, condensed into a winter myth.Your feelings is like crystal, crystal clear, glorious wins, so that passers-through from your side, you can not help but smile to right, it is a blessing.  Perhaps, this winter you have become accustomed to each other’s presence, so you figure becomes more blurred, so you have forgotten your own happiness.  Fortunately, you figure had already become a passerby or Lu Renyi eyes of the landscape.They may take you to an example, jealousy envy hate all kinds of thoughts and feelings criss-cross.  In fact, for you, the eyes of the world do not care, as long as you happy is enough.  Unfortunately things, feelings can be long, but it will quietly fade passion in the passage of time.So, you are no longer the same as before stay forever, no longer as gluey like last winter.Finally, you stay in the spring, he left in the fall.You have forgotten your feelings, originally broke out in winter, maturity and winter.  Tree leaves are still flying, even though the trees are bones everywhere, but the leaves of the book and does not fear death this thoroughfare.  Because winter has arrived, everything has entered the bitter cold of the season.However, the need to nurture life.In winter, in all things open, pregnant with the vitality of spring.  Like your love, perhaps re-ignite the next spring, shine envy you had a vision of happiness and others again.  Winter is not bright, but a warm.The Indus, has begun to accept this gift of nature.what about you?Happy people!!!

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