Tangxia always recruits long-term day workers.

Midnight breeze, the shutter door is moving, the moon is dancing, and the window sash is lightly covered. All is silent, only the candlelight is dancing, the tea in the cup is cold, and the faint fragrance of tea still lingers at the mouth of the cup. I took a sip of my thin lips and felt bitter, but I couldn't help swallowing it, but it turned into a sweet stream in my throat. It's another full moon in the sky. Yin Hui is everywhere, and the cold dew among the leaves is crystal clear. You have been here all night, and when the dew slowly flows through the leaves, you will carefully collect it drop by drop. I don't understand, ask, you laugh, Mid-Autumn Festival essence is ready to make tea.

Water drops converge, jade beads hang, suddenly fall and fall apart. The wind blew the green leaves, and the dew rained down, flying over one after another, wetting the cotton felt and infiltrating the blue. The dew that can't be picked is like the tears that can't be wiped away, not for the full moon, but for parting with you. When people are gone, the fragrance is still there; The tea is cold, but the feeling remains the same; Lonely in front of the candle, I still miss you; The bronze mirror has no capacity, and the eyebrows are still frowning; Harp, still elegant; Between cases, the beautiful image remains unchanged.

My heart is like a lilac in the rain, swaying in the cold wind, with a trace of melancholy. Only a touch of purple lingers in the dream. In a blink of an eye, the moon has set in the west, and the candlelight has gone out. I feel dim and my face is beautiful, and I can't get rid of it. That's wet dream's memory.

Between you and me, like jasmine petals brewed in boiling water, we rise and fall in the cup and meet briefly, but if we want to be long-term, it will be difficult to return.

Think of a wonderful poem & gt surrounded by Tsing Yi, beautiful and pure. And the moon is the gentlest, so I can love Fang, I am also elegant, I will leave you, but I don't want to worry. Immersed in water, passionate, and fragrant at the bottom of the cup.

Long-lost leisure is always like Xijiang autumn moon and the moon is like a hook. It is difficult to turn back when you are reminded of your worries.

The ensemble flute has a long rhyme and a lingering sound, just waiting for the axis to turn and the moon to hide in the west building.

Beginner set language

Finally, it's done. Because of the unexpected arrival of Cher, the charm of winter is fully displayed.

The night is deep, and dim street lamps are lit in the distance. The fog on the glass makes the line of sight dim, and everything is like a foggy surface, mysterious and illusory. In fact, the night just needs to have a looming charm.

Fingers in the fog are naughty like writing snow, transparent notes are left behind like being hollowed out, and the hazy corners are rare and thorough. It was such a casual action that made me realize the most precious thing that night.

It's snowing, really. I've never felt sorry for snow before. When I couldn't wait to open the window, it flew all over the sky and came quietly ... and then my mind went blank. If I say what I feel at this moment, it may be warmth. Without warning, they came together and walked at a brisk pace. In this way, the team came one after another, covering the earth and full of vision. Heaven and earth are integrated, there are no mountains and waves, and the Tianhe River is reflected in white practice.

The snow in front of us is not like goose feathers, but it is much smaller. Under the action of the wind, they fall freely. Sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, their graceful dances inadvertently outlined the trajectory of the cold wind. Maybe it's because I interrupted their costume party. Suddenly a gust of wind blew at us. When the wind blows over my cheek, crystal snowflakes fall on my face, which is very soft and cool. Its meeting with me seems to be playing a trick on me. When I touch them, they disappear, leaving only faint traces of water, and then they often reappear. You can't appreciate it, because when you touch it, its soul will go to nirvana, leaving only its body. Helpless cold made me subconsciously close the window and reluctantly quit the dance.

Its rotation is so elegant, its pace is so light, covered in silver, just like a dancing ballet dancer. Under a shadow lamp, there is a dreamlike "Swan Lake". Although their dance is short-lived, every wonderful moment is unforgettable. They are like meteors in the night sky, explaining what is perfect again and again.

The snowy road is like the flip of a pistil with ten thousand petals, which is layered and integrated, so you can't bear to trample on it and defile this purity. Snowy night, like a vacuum crystal bottle, is full of affection and silence, which makes you hold your breath to find the sound of snow. Only one note can touch your heartstrings.

I really hope the snow will continue to drift, because of your beauty and your romance.

One thing that moved me.

Living in this world, there are always many things that make people sad and emotional. The world is not heartless. People always have feelings. It is a very realistic phenomenon that people get along well with each other, but they don't get along well because of getting along!

There are many things that move me most:

When I was a child, my father milked me and fought with shepherd dogs in the ice and snow. My mother said it was funny, but I was really moved. This is often the reason why I insist on living. Because of these, people should live better! When I was a child, my father was a soldier, and he was always upright, which is what I yearn for now. The sentries there often tease us. My mother often said that I almost died when I was a child, and later I found the commander's daughter to save my life. It's a doctor, right? I have been wondering why it is necessary for the commander's daughter to be a doctor. Why can't other doctors save me? This must be very troublesome, so I am always moved. Touch your own life. It's good. It was really troublesome when I was a child. I remember I was often ill every week, so my father often came back from the army and took me to the hospital. I also often remember to stop military vehicles and sometimes take jeeps.

When I was in primary school, I got sick once. On the way back, I always can't walk and walk slowly. Later, the teacher told my mother that my mother carried me home. I remember growing quite big at that time!

My parents have always been very kind to me. When I was a child, I was often scolded and sometimes beaten. Alas, now that I think about it, there were many family rules at that time: no, no going into the river, no fighting, no anything, so now I have to abide by everything, and sometimes I feel very happy when I break it!

Now that I think about it, I used to talk back to my parents in junior high school and high school, which made them very angry. Now that I am an adult, I often think that when I was in college, my father sent me to school. I always insisted on going by myself, but he was always worried, so he would quarrel again! My father is very capable, but I am poor, so I often think that I can do my own thing without the help of my parents. Sometimes I often think that he is a big tree, and I am like a tree in the shade of a tree. When can we grow up and surpass it?

He went to the party school in Beijing for half a year or a year. When he wrote to his mother, I wrote back, remembering that we were always asked to study hard, as if we were always stupid and unable to learn. Alas, is it useless in my father's eyes?

Some time ago, I showed my father "Information Technology Education", and my article was published on it. He didn't even want to read it. My mother said she wanted to see it, so she found reading glasses. Alas, it's a pity that I wrote the courseware design again. How can I make my father understand? Anyway, he read a few pages carefully and made no comments, but he said it was good to publish articles in national magazines and encouraged me to write more. Alas, writing articles is so easy! I remember my father used to be a reporter and a secretary, and he could take pictures, so I must have taken a lot!

One year I went to Liuzhou Daily and asked my dad to collect some for me as a souvenir. He has always been dull, saying that Liuzhou Daily was sold out, but I asked my sister to help me find a copy, which I always remember.

Sometimes I often wonder when I wish I could surpass my father's skills. He has no ability, so I always let him look down on me. Alas, living in this vision, sometimes I don't want to go home.

If you have the ability to be a good person, live a good life and live a happy life, when you encounter difficulties in the past, you sometimes can't figure it out, but you always remember that there are so many things to experience, so why can't you live it well?

Mom always said that when you were young, you would die without the help of a doctor. Well, if you have already died, what happiness will you have? So, I just want to play, visit all parts of China, have a look and take a walk. At the same time, I just remember to work hard and be a useful person now. My reaction is always many years slower than others before I figure out some problems. I often wonder why many problems take a long time to understand, sometimes it takes a year or even years!

Live well anyway. Although you may not be responsible for going to heaven, there are still too many concerns in the world, and you can't leave and you can't bear to leave. Live, face it!

My parents moved me.

The bright moon is brighter because of the background of the night sky; The stream is clearer because of pebbles; Because of green grass, flowers become more beautiful. Open the window and look at the night sky. The stars are bright, and the night is decorated with gorgeous brilliance. The earth is still full of love. ...

The topic of parents is old but more eternal. Different people always have different experiences and feelings. Since ancient times, many literati have shed a little pen and ink to express the greatness of maternal love and describe the tenacity of fatherly love. For example, Meng Jiao's Wandering Sons and Zhu Ziqing's Back. The love I learned from my parents has disappeared without a trace, and true love is silent. My parents' kindness warmed my heart.

In the year of primary school graduation, the whole sixth grade accumulated strong learning energy. I was unwilling to lag behind, so I increased my horsepower and began to review intensively. Unfortunately, at this time, I have to prepare for the final exam, plan the Children's Day program, practice table tennis and take part in the competition. Plus the entrance examination of Tian Li school, every day I am like a broken machine, working nonstop and never resting. But in the end, I got good grades in the final exam, shined brilliantly on the stage, became more and more brave on the table, and was admitted to Tian Li School with high scores. What is this? Let me have such great strength to cross this bumpy road, and let me have such great courage to overcome all the difficulties? It is love! It was my parents who gave me endless encouragement. How many times I stood up in the face of setbacks and regained my confidence.

Every day when the school bell rings, I rush to the playground at a fast speed and start rehearsing one after another. Mom and dad always smile at my busy figure on the stage, and a faint breath of love shines into my heart like a beam of sunshine; After the rehearsal, I grabbed the table tennis board and ran to the table tennis table. Under teacher Zhang's training, I practiced chopping, spinning, lifting, mixing and various methods of serving and catching the ball. Sometimes my parents appreciate my skills, and I often can't help secretly visiting my parents with a suspicious face. The parents' encouragement to their children contained in the intersection of their eyes slowly melted into my body. I sweated until it was completely dark, and then, accompanied by my parents, I ran home quickly and started another process-solving math problems. Sometimes, we grab books and concentrate on reading topics; Sometimes, we discuss with great interest at the dinner table; Sometimes, we hold pens and concentrate on calculating problems on draft paper ... all the problems are solved in front of our family of three. Lying in bed at night, I can't help feeling something in my heart-my parents' love is like water, pure and holy, without any miscellaneous stains, but their love is more colorful than spring.

Some people say that love is innate, and affection is the best model and teacher for us to understand love. No matter how great a man is, he can't walk out of the scope of love. The reason why human life has no boundaries is because the scope of love itself has no boundaries.

If mother is a stream, maternal love is the spring water flowing in the stream, delicate and gentle.

If the father is a mountain, the father's love is the scenery standing on the mountain, broad and vigorous;

I was deeply moved by my parents' love. Maybe this is the world, full of emotions. Let our feelings precipitate in our hearts, let them sublimate in precipitation, and let the sublimated feelings render the world!

My happy life

I have a happy family. My family has a "good girl" me. A shopaholic mother and a handyman father. Next, let me make the next introduction!

In our clean home, "handyman" is indispensable. He is my father. Every day when I see something broken or dirty at home, my father always stands out. I remember one time, my desk lamp was broken, and I hurried to find my father. When my father saw me, he immediately brought the tools and began to repair them. With the sound of tinkering, my desk lamp has been repaired! I was just about to say thank you to my father, but my father brought a rag, wiped the desk lamp carefully and asked me what I thought. I saw that it was a desk lamp that had been used for many years. Just like new. I happily threw myself into my father's arms and repeatedly said, "Thank you, good father!" " "Dad smiled happily.

Looking at a wardrobe full of colorful clothes, I thought of shopping with my shopaholic mother. One noon, I had just finished lunch, and my mother dragged me to Xidan without saying anything. I asked my mother, "Why are you in such a hurry?" Mom said, "Xidan is on sale today." We rushed to the third floor, bought three clothes, and then bought a basket of daily necessities. At this time, I was like a deflated ball, insisting that my mother go home, and my mother went home glumly.

I am a "good girl" at home. Go home from school every day, check carefully after finishing homework, and help mom and dad do housework every day. Actually, this is not my instinct. I'm good at taking care of people. I remember that once my mother was ill and my father was on duty, so I decided to take care of my mother. I made a tomato and egg noodle for my mother first, and then gently served it to her. My mother was very touched and I was very happy. My mother ate it bite by bite, then stroked my head and said, "Good boy, my daughter has grown up!" " "I was elated. The next day, under my care, my mother's condition improved. I was a little embarrassed when she boasted to everyone that I was a good boy.

This is our family, a happy family. There is a blue handbag in my drawer. Although its color is very old, it is more like an uncut jasper to me, simple and heavy, and its light and moist luster always bathes my heart.

It was a Sunday. After my sister and I went to learn calligraphy, we went home by car together. On the bus, we found a window seat and watched the scenery slowly moving back outside the window. I am very happy. What a wonderful weekend. In such a relaxed mood, unconsciously, we arrived at the station where we got off. There were many people getting off the bus, so I got off with the people who got off slowly. Watch the bus drive slowly to the next stop. Then I dragged my sister home. At this moment, my sister suddenly looked at me with puzzled eyes and said, "Brother, where is your blue handbag?" I quickly looked at my hand, empty-handed, where there was no bag. In desperation, I couldn't help shouting, "Where's my bag? Where's my bag? " There are my study tools and some change in it! My sister thought about it and said, "You didn't leave it in the car, did you?" I also recovered from my anxiety and nodded helplessly. But the bus has been gone for a long time. My sister and I murmured, "What can we do? What can we do? "

At this moment, a taxi stopped beside us to get off. Maybe uncle taxi was surprised to see us two children rubbing hands anxiously and whispering. He came over and asked kindly, "What's the matter, little friend?" I looked at my uncle and said helplessly, "I left my handbag on the 207 bus." Uncle was silent for a while and said, "Get on the bus. Let's go after the bus. Maybe we can get it back. " So, my sister and uncle and I got into a taxi and headed for the next stop of 207. At this moment, there is only one thought in my mind: hurry up, hurry up. Uncle seems to understand my mind, or he is in a hurry. He sped forward, and the scenery and pedestrians on both sides flashed by. In my mind, the thought of a bag is like a stone, which weighs heavily on me. I have no mind to enjoy the scenery on both sides, nor to talk to my sister. Time, in such a sense of oppression, is passing by.

When we turned another intersection, the bus, yes, that bus, finally appeared in front of us, and the indicator light was flashing slowly into the station. At this time, the stone that has been pressed in my heart has finally been put down. When my uncle parked in front of the bus, I quickly opened the door and flew on the bus. I saw the blue handbag by the window at a glance. It lay there alone, as if waiting for its owner to claim it. There is a sudden joy and excitement in my heart, such as reunion after a long separation or recovery. Take two steps in three steps, and I hold it tightly in my hand. However, at this moment, the conductor looked at me doubtfully, and I quickly explained, "I left this at the last stop, and the taxi in front just brought me my bag." The conductor said nothing. She just looked at the taxi parked in front of the bus and nodded with a smile.

I took my handbag, got into a taxi and said to my uncle, "Uncle, I, my sister, I only have ten dollars altogether. I don't know if it is enough for your fare? " When my uncle heard this, he seemed surprised. After a long pause, he suddenly smiled: "Hehe, I didn't want to charge you. By the way, where do you live? Let me take you home. " So, I'm embarrassed to say where I live.

My uncle sent my sister and me downstairs, as if knowing that we were going to say thank you and so on, and said to us in front of us, "Go home quickly, maybe your parents are in a hurry." Don't throw things around in the future, hehe. "We nodded, got off and looked at my uncle's car. Soon we were in the traffic, and we couldn't see the difference anymore. He was so ordinary that he suddenly felt a little disappointed.

A year has passed, and I have a new handbag, but the blue handbag was kept in the drawer after retirement, and I have been reluctant to throw it away because it still cherishes my uncle's warm and kind heart.

A kind of beauty is called giving up time:

-

Give up silently every time, give up a friend who has been in love for a long time but has no chance; Give up some investment but get nothing; Give up some spiritual expectation; Give up an idea. There will be a kind of sadness at this time, but this kind of sadness does not prevent us from starting over.

Listen to the music again in the new time and space; Tell the story again! Because this is a natural farewell and abandonment, full of detached spirit, because of the sad beauty!

There is a feeling that I hope it will last forever. It took many years to find that it had faded away. Later, I realized that what we hold in our hands is not necessarily what we really have, what we have and what we really remember! Then I understand that life often needs a pair of silent care and conscious giving up!

There are too many beautiful things and people in the world. We have been fighting for the beauty we don't have. In order to be busy, it often takes many years to understand what we really need and really want, and even we don't know what to do for the rest of our lives! For the beauty we already have, we are uneasy and worried because of the experiences we often get and lose.

The sigh of the sunset is easy to lose, and the troubles of flowers blooming and falling. Life is not satisfactory! Because when we have it, we may lose it, and when we give it up, we may regain it. We cannot be absolutely sure of everything. If you pay tribute to the pursuit of possession, it will be difficult to get out of the external things and then get out of yourself, and the involuntary sadness and sorrow for life will be even heavier!

Therefore, life needs to sublimate a quiet and transcendental spirit. Understand people know how to give up, sincere people know how to sacrifice, and happy people know how to be detached! After several years, we will be more satisfied when we know that the people we like are doing well! "I didn't come to this world because of you, but because you are more attached to this world. If I can be with you, I will walk away silently, but I still won't lose my love and gratitude for this world-thank God for letting me meet you and leave you, and finish a poem created by God! " Life has given us endless sorrow; It also gives us an eternal answer. So, I gave up safely and insisted on a detachment!

No matter how the world of mortals changes, no matter how individuals choose, no matter how heavy the things in our hands are, we are brave enough to escape, but we are sad and gratified!

Giving up is not flinching, but making another choice for a new goal. Life is to keep pursuing and at the same time keep giving up. As usual, we yearn for the depths of life. As usual, we are gradually giving up and becoming firm!

I will always wake up my night and start tomorrow without you. -How far is forever?

Sad light rain gently beats this spring, like lovers' tears, nourishing this day and the wind of this season. With a little regret, it swept every corner and awakened any sleeping seed in the world.

Can't stand the temptation of rain and water, I walk in the rain, wandering quietly, thinking about the beauty of moistening things quietly, and I can't hide my heart at this moment. The Spring Festival on the roadside also opened early. Small yellow flowers, you are next to me, I am squeezing you, they are happily competing for the love of this spring; The flower buds of oleander are swaying gently in the rain, as if shy and avoiding my eyes. There is one here and one there in bits and pieces, which seems to be spying. Looking around at me, a person who doesn't know flowers, I think of a sentence: when the mountain flowers are in full bloom, she laughs among the flowers, and so on; On the soft willow branches, the old leaves did not fade, but were left by the new green and returned to their own land. It has always been like this, and it has never changed.

Looking up, I saw that this day, which should have been bright, seemed so gloomy and aroused the solved death. This is a beautiful season, and I don't want my mood to be infected by this beautiful comedy, so all I can do is bring her the most rare brilliance and decorate this flowery spring day.

Because I want to remember that this spring, I have been here without sadness, so good.

Suddenly, I stopped there, and the broken things came and went and hit me. I am like a boat, drifting and stranded, but I try my best to keep myself from being knocked down by the wind and waves.

I like to go with the flow. Shallow is muddling along. I don't want to pester anyone or anything with peace of mind. A little hobby is enough. Between lust and red tea cups is not what I want.

It seems that I have planned to learn painting for a long time, but I am vaguely far away. I always want to do all the things I like while I am alive. At least at the moment I leave, I won't have the slightest regret, because we all know that something has been done, but the result is irreparable, so let it be buried with me. I also want to learn guitar. I can play my own voice quietly and write songs for myself. ......

In this rainy season, what I feel most is the sadness of parting. Although I don't have much time here, I deeply like the people here, the things here, the flowers here and everything here. I can't let go of that wonderful encounter. If there is an opportunity in the future, I want to go back to school to make up for my youth that has grown old with the wind. I'm going to infiltrate every land here and tell her I'm back.

Always playing the fool, cheating others, telling others their mediocrity, as if begging for a little pity. It's ridiculous to let everything go to waste when you know it but don't act on it. Go, go, go, go, this damn youth with nowhere to put it, goes with the years, I won't miss it.

You said it would still clear up, right?

Expect.

Flowers bloom in July

Days are counted page by page, and time passes by minute by minute. The sun is awakened by a high temperature called summer. Get up early, climb on the windowsill, covered by moss marks in the wind last night. The light rain that came and went suddenly soaked the dragonfly's wings, but never wet the sentimental poem. Sitting in a small room facing south, the wind is tight and small, and the child next door knocks on a sleeping door with a child's voice.

Sitting in front of the window on a hot summer day, watching the sun getting closer and closer, the shadow is getting shorter and shorter, perhaps shrinking into a point, shrinking into a round red mole in human life, or even getting nothing. The shadow is you or me, and I don't forget every minute. Is a flower also blooming in your hands, slowly unfolding its delicate beauty, and then slowly fading in the scorching sun, so that the swan song of the flower faces the sea, and the surging wings around it blow the green branches and leaves that I have been attached to all my life, warming my journey day by day.

In July, the calendar was ruthlessly opened by the wind. In July, acacia is nowhere to be found. Not only that face, but also that person, gradually blurred. Add a little more water to the cup and put all the books in the drawer, but I can't put my thoughts in the bag. On some dark nights, there are faded fragments floating in my heart, and there is a slow mist behind my smile, singing silently: I understand that when you come back, there is no proof that the fragrant memories will be covered with moss forever. It's spring, the train is far away and the summer is long. I have been tempered into an iron body, counting the stars and pretending that everything is back to yesterday.

I always thought life would be like this. I always thought that the floating white window lattice revealed only plain singing. Unexpectedly, there will be such an encounter. Clear eyes, sad words, dim background, everything will become beautiful and magnificent because of that moment. Seven colors of light are projected on the outstretched hand, slender and soft, and blue flowers bloom with the clouds at the fingertips. Oh, time is waiting for me, waiting for me in rainy days, and I'm still waiting for you to pop up the sound of mountains and rivers in my mind.

Miss, get, wait, lose, unhappy, unhappy, and at the last moment, it will eventually become empty. Will leave in July. My hands are covered with dust. The petals fall all over the path in July, and the rain in July is sprayed wantonly. The streets in July are very cold. Walking from street to street, there was no one. I can't find a mask for the demonstration. I am destined to stand on your branch in a simple way. Pedestrians left without makeup. I will become another kind of lotus with clear soup and dried noodles. Who will stop and who will get hurt?

In July, I lost Chun Qing for a season because of your departure. When these flowers are blown by the wind, they bloom. When you left, I found sadness. Work at sunrise, rest at sunset, and night falls. Your shadow stubbornly follows, you can't find a flame to distract your attention, and you can't find a song to bury you. No matter how deep you hide, you can't escape your eyes. Why don't we sit still, look, think deeply, penetrate time, turn red gradually, and the fiery red cloud on the horizon-

Millennium moonlight, gradually illusory. In July, I bared my teeth in a quiet night. When you hit the keyboard, many words will pop up. Some sentences, like steel needles in the text, plunge into the skin and viscera, which always hurts the heart and lungs. Like some notes, they bloom in the dark, and the sound is high and low. Perhaps, along the tunnel of time, I pushed open the emotional wall, fell into your arms, stayed silent all night, and even for the rest of my life, you will hear the words in my heart?

The face in the diamond-shaped mirror in the morning is dim, which is because the sunshine in July is blazing, the ultraviolet ray concentration is high, and the body temperature is burning. No, just no lively singing, no inspiring words, no hearty agreement. The flower buds outside the wall have renovated the calendar again, and those clever steps in the past have been drawn long by the time corridor. The looming aperture in the distance is close to me. Stretch and close, close your blurred but clear sight. Whose head shows the simplicity of wind and frost first, one or two clumps, thin and dense, even if it is uprooted, it still can't get rid of the entangled heart.

Leaves fall gently around me, rustling. Some stories are far away, others are close. Jiangnan in July is full of water conditions. Jiangnan is just in summer, flowers bloom and fall, roses extend to the center of the earth, the rain is fierce, the gorgeous figure is just words, and the pale figure is out of sight. Have you ever regretted it? It's too hot here. Did you go through the nearby wall to visit the quietly blooming roses outside the door? I kissed my lips last year. Was it your kiss? I imagine lovers for many years, broken one by one because of you.

In July, you stood in the wind. In the song-like years, love and flying are another concept. Love is never known until it is separated, which is unforgettable. However, dullness is also a state of mind. You look focused and never give up. In a unique scene, your clear song blows, your flowing music pours down, and the feelings you have accumulated for many years are full of satisfaction and sweetness through the sound of flowers, and slowly spread your soft wings on the night of love. If I understand, separate articles converge on calmness.

The flowers are gradually blooming. When the soul is near, the water is clear. Real smiles are dense, and the reality of clusters of languages is superimposed. Through the jungle of the years, the refined style makes the flame flying forty miles fall from the glass wreath, let the butterflies flying all over the sky walk hand in hand with the breeze, and let the passion and words expose the most primitive truth in the noble soul. The flowers are silent, the beauty testifies, the sunshine in July is burning, the sacred lotus blooms in the poem, and the faint pain comes out when you look back brightly.