The Wind Rises Essays (10 articles)
Have you all written essays while studying or working? Essay is a very flexible and casual note or writing style. In order to help you understand more about essays, the following are the essays I collected and organized. You are welcome to learn from and refer to them. I hope it will be helpful to everyone.
The Wind Rises Essay 1
1
I must take care of the past and not be in a hurry or panic on days when the wind blows.
There is a leaf, which is yellow, folds a corner to warm it, and enters the corner.
The wind chimes are swaying, and the sound of autumn does not hurt the gaze.
Tell me, did the enthusiasm scattered all over the place in the wind last night get out of the window? Did that cute bird have any trace of flying, flickering in the waiting darkness? On.
2
When the wind blew, who heard the language of the wings, saw the color of the wind, and grabbed her cold little hand.
There should be a painting, very beautiful, hanging in the depths and at the top of the years. The fruit that grows more and more fragrant in the crazy longing replaces the dream of spring, running all the way, smearing all the way.
There was a blank space for me. I filled it with sweat, and then scratched it with a boat, leaving traces. That is the road leading to autumn, and the ripples spread far and wide. I know that it is warm winter on the other side of the shore.
3
Remember, on the plateau in autumn, hope is high and red, never falling.
Through them, our past is very peaceful and peaceful.
I am in love on a chrysanthemum this season, and I am lost in the red maple. The way back is my feet that do not change direction.
On the plateau, the barren land is illuminated by sadness, and the moonlight is sentimental and cold. I heard some footsteps trekking towards the hills. Their enthusiasm melted the snow on the plateau, and winter gave way to spring so easily.
This season is the most suitable for festivals and telling love in front of the fields. I was still a step late. The leaves had fallen for a long time, and what I was greeted by was the desolation of the wind. However, it is not far away from the fruit.
4
Through the gaps of the years, I found some happiness and also encountered some melancholy.
I have worked very hard to plant myself and grow in the hinterland of spring. But from time to time, wind and rain whip the earth and seeds. I know that those excellent varieties come out of the wind and rain. They grasp the wings of the wind, write their confidence in the sky, and work with the sun to generate happiness and warmth on the earth.
5
Sing a song about loving autumn. Write your own lyrics, compose your own music, and sing your own songs.
Once you find the way to sing, the days when you can sing and sing for joy are not far away. Those leaves that have dropped an octave, returning to the bass and entering the roots of life, let us know that the temperature next spring will definitely not be low.
I have turned my sad eyes from the window sill back to my heart, returning to the warehouse like rice. The horse that didn't want to stop all the way began to rein in and look at it. In the season without cliffs, snow is the most lonely flower that makes us sober.
Because, I always understand: when the snow melts, spring is here.
Because, I always know: when spring comes, autumn is not far away.
The fallen notes will be like sweat in the next season, raised high above our heads. We call it harvest, we call it beautiful fruit. The Wind Rises Essay 2
When I get up in the morning, I open the long floor-to-ceiling curtains, leaving the lingering mist hanging on the top of the mountain. A ray of rising sun carrying thousands of hopes penetrates the layers of tulle and leaks out. On the dark yellow textured floor tiles. He picked up the coffee, raised his cheeks, and raised the corners of his mouth towards the sun. The slightly cool wind blew across the cheeks, lifting the hair and dancing gracefully.
The wind has picked up, and my thoughts have turned into sand. It’s great, it’s autumn again. However, everything is different from before.
I think I am on the other side of time, stubbornly clinging to the wind and letting the years scatter like sand. I pick up a piece of plain paper and let the poetic fallen leaves, carrying a piece of autumn thoughts, float and scatter in the world of mortals. The passing years are broken and dyed. Silently wandering in the bleak autumn dust, the injured shadow reflected in the glass, panicking in the mist, wandering across the world, lonely and lonely. The smoke locks the cold building, and I feel sad about separation several times. I close my eyes and enjoy the wind, but when I open my eyes, there is no trace of them.
/p>
I have always been a sentimental woman. I am used to keeping every flower and grass in my heart. I am often saddened by the blooming and falling of flowers and the reincarnation of trees. Often, I would sit on the window sill all morning, drinking a cup of tea until it was tasteless, and reading half a volume of poetry would be rotten to my heart. Excerpts and writing, the mood of this morning is scattered and scattered quietly in the paper grinding room.
Occasionally, there is a story, a sentence, a few feelings, and the mood changes gracefully according to the author's writing style. I often forget the time and where I am, and when I look up, I feel like I am in another world.
There is already a bustling scene outside the window, and the back and forth of merchants and vendors has revealed that the morning market has begun. While I was holding the window and looking out into the distance, Mr. Meng brought back corn. The fragrant and glutinous smell aroused my sleeping taste buds. The wind has risen, and my thoughts have turned into sand.
In a trance, it seems that I have returned to that year. The beginning of autumn has just passed, and the wind is still a fierce heat wave, mixed with a hint of early autumn. Wave after wave of wind blows through the corn field, making the corn leaves rustle. The smell of ripe corn passes through the wind, sending the fragrance into the noses of passers-by and foraging squirrels. Immediately afterwards, the war between man and mouse began in the corn field. Little squirrels are excellent guerrilla fighters, specializing in dealing with impatient creatures like humans. You come and go, fighting in the field of corn is very hot, and the corn is the one that suffers the most. In a few days, there will not be much left.
In the end, the owner’s cat also came out, and the human, mouse, and cat started playing tricks. Cats are good friends and companions of humans, and they occasionally do naughty things that hinder things.
After the beginning of autumn, the autumn wind gradually picks up, the weather turns cooler, and everything begins to enter the cycle of reincarnation. Either the leaf buds have turned yellow, or the branches and leaves have fallen, or the flowers have failed.
The wind is blowing.
However, now that I am in a foreign country, I can no longer see that scene. The Wind Rises Essay 3
I stand here, looking out at the desolation and barrenness. Life has long lost its original youth, and only these few memories are still wandering aimlessly in my heart, as if it was yesterday. , strolling quietly on the road, your smile seems to be filled with the fragrance of flowers around you, I don’t know how many beautiful times you have been intoxicated with.
Ah - the wind has risen, no birds are stopping on the bent branches, the gentle sunshine falls into the whirlpool, are you still nostalgic for the clouds that were re-modified by it, can you still remember it? , those abandoned raindrops and white snow have long become the deepest thoughts and desires in the sky. They are far away but close at hand, but I can't touch them or imagine them.
At night, it is as cold as autumn water. How can you let go of this vast sea of ????mind that has not yet stirred up waves? You are still wondering about the waves that passed by in the past, or you are still waiting for the frozen spring to slowly come to you. As it flows by, you place the unfinished stone in my dream - the vague melancholy in my imagination is mixed with the hesitation of stars. I don't know how long it will take before I can see its original appearance.
The wind is blowing, I want you to walk quietly from here, in the confusion of the night, in the worries of the day, in the silent parting, lingering here all the time, with shallow dreams and long-lost memories. To be honest, I didn't notice it at all. Seeing each other but not seeing each other again, only longing fills this empty chest, only this heavy memory fills the luggage.
I can’t predict your arrival, but I stay at this moment and keep praying for you to come. No matter how high the mountains are or how vast the water is, you can’t stop me. I will wait for you to disperse the dark clouds and bring the sunshine with you. fragrance. If you don't come, I will be here, drying the tears falling on the broken bridge alone, picking up a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers in the world and burying it in the wind, hoping to send all my desires to the deepest place in your heart.
The wind is blowing. I have been listening carefully to what you are saying. I want to love but I can’t. To you, I am just a passer-by. This is just another long and profound journey. Time is ruthless and heaven and earth are passing by. Old man, I am like a fallen leaf in the wind. Although it falls at this moment, it is still floating in your arms.
Sleeping soundly until you wake me up again and let love come back again.
Is there still my figure that has not been blown away in countless reincarnations? The autumn wind only rises for my beloved. Who knows the fragrance of falling flowers? If this feeling does not change, this ambition will not change.
If the wind rises again, I hope your world will still be filled with the fragrance of flowers, laughter and singing, stars falling, and magnificent waves. I hope it will be deep and peaceful, and I hope you will be lucky and warm. Waiting for this The autumn colors are full of lingering love, and the wind covers the footsteps of those who have walked before, and come back again, over and over again, as if your love will never end. The Wind Rises Essay 4
Once upon a time, I lived in the age of fantasy. Apart from studying, textbooks, eating, drinking, and having sex every day, I spend the rest of the time immersed in my own world. At that time, people were so innocent, thinking about what I was like in high school, what I was like in college, and what I was like at work. I thought maybe I have two friends who I would ask to go to the bathroom with every day. In college, we sang karaoke together, traveled together, went out together once, and stalked their boyfriends to treat them to dinner. I don't feel like I'm a light bulb at all.
So simply we grow up. When we grow up, we have new friends. In the new environment, we work hard to adapt and let ourselves become what we want to be, strong and unloving. Crying, I don't like to fantasize anymore, I vaguely force myself to understand, don't be stupid, I have long passed the age of dreaming.
Go out with new friends, buy yourself a wreath in the spring, and take photos with your friends. It feels like everything is so beautiful in your youth. All the sad things about spring and autumn have nothing to do with me. Gradually, I fall in love with something, fall in love with an instrument, and report to the class in one go. After studying for a week, I solemnly told myself: "Some things can only be learned well if you like them." Then I skipped all the classes in despair. Then try to tell yourself: "Do I like something else?" One day I saw a photo on the Internet of a retro mirrorless camera that was particularly beautiful. The appearance of the camera made me ignore the fact that it was used to take photos. Then live frugally and live simply. I bought one for myself and told myself: "I love photography." Then I got used to sketching everywhere by myself. Sometimes with my friends, I would bring him over to practice with me. Then I would go back to study the later stages by myself, looking forward to my friends' satisfaction.
Looking back after walking some distance, I feel that reading thousands of books is as important as traveling thousands of miles. People need to sharpen their character, but people who just go on the road are too wild, so they took out the library card that they had thrown in the corner and started stuffing themselves into books. Really, the things in the book are like Buddhist teachings, profound and profound, which makes me feel more and more insignificant about myself. Then I gradually found that I had grown up and never forgot my original intention.
We unconsciously walked along the way we imagined until now, and we have a deeper understanding that as long as we don’t change our original intention, it will not change. He is still the same person as simple as water. No matter five, ten or twenty years later, if he changes his hair to an 18-year-old, a 23-year-old, or a 28-year-old, he will be back to that age.
Life is so simple, just like the wind. So we lived the life we ??wanted in the breeze. The Wind Rises Essay 5
In the afternoon, the branches and leaves of the old camphor tree swayed gently under the scorching sun, and a wisp of gentle and fragrant wind blew towards my face, across my face, lifted my hair, and danced gracefully. .
When the wind blows, the whole world moves. The rice fields are like green waves, and the wild flowers stretch their branches...
I feel like I am on the other side of time, standing at the ferry of the wind. , stick to it and become crazy. The wind blows the years like falling flowers on the ground. Pick up a fallen leaf brought by the wind, carrying a piece of thought, floating in the vast world of mortals. Silently facing the wind, watching the sparkling pond, wrinkled face, watching the lotus swaying in the wind, disturbing the quiet beauty.
Time is like the wind, taking away the past, and like a pair of gentle hands, erasing all the pain for us, but it cannot erase the memory. In the wind, the memories surge, and a kind of lonely desolation comes. Like a candle, the glimmer of light is swaying, weak and pale, more like our swaying dreams.
I suddenly remembered that I had watched an anime by Miyazaki Hayao called "The Wind Rises". It depicts a character who is loyal to his dreams and makes progress for his dreams. Love and love, waiting and leave. It is an idealist’s lament.
This "The Wind Rises" surpasses the pattern of all Miyazaki's previous works. It is based on real characters and reflects Miyazaki's own attitudes towards life, love, politics, technology and the environment. Elaborate. But limited to the political environment, limited to the expectations of neighboring countries and even the entire world for peace, how can we truly and transparently interpret aggression and peace? Whether it is designing aircraft or creating art, since you are involved in it, you want to create the best Works, how can one survive without being crazy? But how can one clearly calculate what is gained and lost along the way? Just like Erlang in the film, in the end, only in a dream can he face his past without reservation and without escaping, but This sudden realization has already turned into a cloud.
There is no conflict between the big picture of life and the small details of life. Whether it is a painting or a person doing something, the big picture and the nuances are indispensable. This is a picture of life. It’s just that when each of us is faced with the pursuit of ideals and happiness, when our principles are challenged countless times, we are like a person in the wind. How should we make a choice? In the face of failure and cruelty, fate is like the wind, how should we face it?
I think it’s like the sentence in the movie: “The wind is blowing, we must try to survive!” Yes, I must try to survive.
Real life is like being in the wind. Sometimes, just doing something you are very obsessed with, no matter how hard you put in, you will not get the results you want. Because there is resistance in the environment, but can you give up your dreams because of the environment in life? Can you allow yourself to obey your fate on the grounds that you were born at the wrong time?
Many times, the wind has no intention of messing up everything in this world. , facing the wind, some people panic, some escape, and some are fearless.
When the wind blows, I remember: "Even if there is a strong wind, never give up in life." Suddenly I felt it was so shocking and sonorous. Reach out and let the wind caress your fingertips. Let your thoughts fly thousands of miles with the wind. Here I am walking against the wind. The Wind Rises Essay 6
I thought I was calm enough, that it really didn’t matter. The moment I woke up, I hid in the bathroom, sat on the floor and hugged myself, letting the water droplets soak through my body. Traces of water slid down the naked body and dripped to the ground.
I was heartbroken and drank until I fell unconscious. For the first time, I drank until my brain was broken. I was conscious but had no strength. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was desolation, and then I fell into a deep sleep.
The stars twinkled from the sky to say goodbye. It turns out that there is another way to say goodbye. I was holding on, not knowing what expression to use, how to speak, what tone to use. Everything is just in vain, just futile.
Just be an ostrich, lock yourself up, just read quietly and be happy. Lock the door of your heart, bury your thoughts with all the busyness, don't think about it, don't ask about it, don't look at it, so that you can no longer think about it or think about it.
Not very brave, but also scared. The little worry locked in my heart may be released in the next season. Where is the distance, how to leave and arrive. Is the path I can choose the one I insist on and be firm on?
That day, when I looked at your side face, I felt warm and windy when I loved you.
It’s snowing, which is a farewell gift. The thick snow is outside the window, but for your comfort, I am not willing to take a look at it. It turns out that I still love you, but I just don’t want to admit it in my heart, or I admit it when I am so drunk that I can’t control my consciousness. Fortunately, fortunately, I didn’t call anyone. Fortunately, I was too drunk to have the strength to make a call.
At five or six in the morning, with the car windows open in the cold wind of more than ten degrees below zero, I let the cold wind pour into my body and into the depths of my soul, but I still couldn't hold it back. I pushed open the car window and stumbled down on the edge of the bridge, my stomach churning and my tears falling down. Here, throw away the tears and sadness together, give up, and never see them again in this life.
Sitting back in the car, there was still an hour and a half to drive, and I fell into a drowsy sleep. I only knew that I had the shoulders of strangers beside me, but I could rely on them. When I woke up and arrived at my station, I raised my head and looked at the stranger next to me with regret. Seeing him move his shoulders slightly, I knew what it was like to be pressed by me for an hour and a half, but he didn't move, giving me a support on the winding road.
"Thank you!"
Looking at him seriously, he smiled, turned around and disappeared at the end of the airport. Thank you, stranger, who doesn't even know your name. In the sea of ??wandering people, it gave a wandering woman a moment of warmth.
Thank you, the pain in my body has improved a lot, but there is still a way to go, and I must ask myself to be strong, persistent, and determined. With no support or shoulders around me, I can only rely on the only surviving dignity in my heart to fight and work hard.
Before you put your body in such danger, you should know how to cherish and reflect on it. Take good care of yourself, girl, you can be your own protective umbrella, and you are also the only source that you can rely on. Everyone is a passerby on the journey of life. No one will stay with you all your life. The only person you can rely on and trust is yourself.
Only by caring and being responsible for yourself can you complete the scenery in your life and become a passer-by, gorgeous and calm.
When I look into your eyes humbly, I tell you that I like you. There is shrinkage and shallowness in my heart, but it turns out I loved you. The wind passes through my heart, but it passes through fields and jungles, passes through mountains and deserts, and wanders across the sea, unable to find its way back or when it will return.
It’s been two days, and I always thought I had let go, that I was indifferent. Looking back, I found that I was neglected, that I was madly immersed in work and books, and that I was moving forward numbly without any emotion. Only then did I realize how deep the care and pain in my heart was, and how much I hated myself for being drunk.
If there were no wantonness and indulgence, there would be no more wandering alone by the river in the cold wind at night. I cut my hair short, cut off my worries, and finally tried to give up completely, but was dragged into the years and nightmares.
I must be really tired. I slept for nearly seventeen or eight hours. It turns out that I don’t dare to let myself rely on and relax around you. It turned out that I was still holding on so hard that I didn’t dare to let down my guard even a little bit. Therefore, my love for you is all an illusion and just self-deception.
I once believed in you and believed in meeting you, so I had no worries in my heart and felt so at ease. At this moment, I want to leave so much, I want to never see you again and never hear any news from you. I'm just tired. It turns out that the one I love most all the time is myself.
You should be happy. Fortunately, at a not-so-good age, you finally understand that the one you love most is yourself, and the one you want to love most is yourself.
I just can’t figure out your heart, just like I can’t figure out other people’s hearts many times. Since you don't want it, why bother? It's just for the pleasure of conquering that moment, and it's purely for human desire. It is clear that the person you love is not the person around you, but you always pretend to be aloof and look down upon.
Winter is pure, but the flowers on the windowsill are dying little by little, just like the joy for you. There was a moment when I really couldn't put it down, thinking that letting go would make my heart hurt, but I just watched helplessly as he died and passed away little by little, but I couldn't do anything. The heart can also become numb and wither. When it comes to parting, we can actually turn a blind eye and meet each other as strangers.
It just takes time to soothe your emotions and calm the turmoil in your heart. I believe you can do a good job, and you will definitely be able to do it.
Try to be a woman who can support herself and is no longer afraid of being displaced in a sea of ??people.
Perhaps, when we meet again, our faces have changed. The seasons have changed. It is better to forget each other than to smile lightly when we know each other.
Maybe, maybe I will choose Southern China for my next trip, and I still want to go to Nanjing. I don’t know if it will be possible, but I feel very hopeful. Maybe one day, with a turn, fate comes, and you can go.
It’s still vague, like it’s in the wind.
Goodbye is still beautiful, goodbye is still sunshine.
With another snow, we may meet souls who can comfort each other.
Buried in the snow, buried in the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, fate came to meet you.
That day, the wind blew, which was joy! The Wind Rises Essay 7
Outside the window, there is never a lack of excitement in the cold night, because the neon lights have already accompanied it.
The wind is blowing.
A bit cold. He tightened his clothes and retreated into the warm bed. In winter, in the dark night, the only thing that can warm my heart is this few feet square quilt.
I don’t know when, summer really passed away, taking autumn with it, leaving winter behind.
Just like you. Also, I don't know when, I have passed by, and it is getting farther and farther, so that now there is no news.
Is it snowing where you are? I heard that it is snowing heavily in the north at this time. Is it snowing outside your window? Does it look good? It must be beautiful, right? !
Is it still warm and sunny where you are? I heard that there is still a scorching sun in some places in the south. Is there any dazzling light coming through the glass window where you are? Is it hot? It must be very warm, right? !
Where you are, or is it like where I am, there is no snow and no sunset. It is the same color from morning to night - gray, right? If so, did you feel a cold wind blowing by the window just now? Is it cool? It must be very cold!
There is no chance to see the snow; there is no chance to feel the warm sunset. In fact, these are all excuses, you know?
Staying here is not because I know you are most likely to be here, but because this is where we have our best memories. However, maybe you never remember it.
The curtains fluttered.
The wind is blowing again.
Will it be blown to you? The Wind Rises Essay 8
The footsteps of spring are getting closer and closer to us. We have just survived the cold wind like silver needles. We should have enjoyed the soft and warm spring breeze, but we have been sucked into the early spring. in the strong wind. The power of wind really cannot be underestimated.
When I woke up early in the morning, what woke me up today was not the first ray of sunshine, but the cold breeze. I slowly opened my eyes and found that the neat bedroom was messy, and the homework papers were "dancing" in the air. The open window was "whipped" back and forth - being blown against the window sill by the wind. The curtains were blown by the wind like a female ghost in a long skirt. The wind "walked" in the room and made a scary "ooh" sound. I was deeply shocked by this scene. I couldn't believe that this was the work of the wind. At first, I even thought that a thief had broken into the house. I closed the window in a panic, no longer in the mood to sleep, and prepared to exercise. The strong wind felt like a big hand behind me pulling me back. I used to be as strong as flying, but now I can no longer move my legs or stand up no matter how hard I try. My center of gravity is unstable and I feel like I will fall down at any time. The streets were full of wind and dust, the leaves were blown to the ground and fell one after another. The big trees also lost their former straightness and hardness. They were like a piece of dough being pinched back and forth in the hands of the strong wind, making them look weak and shaky.
In the face of a disaster, the once powerful human beings have become so small and helpless, but as long as we are united and united, the disaster will eventually pass, and we will usher in the dawn!
The wind is blowing? We are not afraid! The wind is blowing essay 9
1
The wind is blowing, in front of the bright window,
Read his Across the Ocean to See You.
Falling in love,
Very funny, just like,
When the wind blows, the hyacinths bloom enchantingly,
Laughing , tears wet the skirt of my clothes and my heart,
It’s really funny, when the hand is typing the handwriting,
To touch the coldness, you can still hear the birds singing in the horizon.
In this case, I don’t have the courage to find someone,
Even the flower of love,
I have to bury it deeply with my own unfeeling .
Buried,
Even buried, must be on the edge of the cliff,
Because I am very afraid of the cold world,
Suddenly The wind picked up,
wildly blowing away the black soil,
revealing the coffin of love.
Then the heart-piercing pain,
instantly spread to the whole meridians of the person, so,
The panic, the soul left me,
Walking out of the stone pages of Qingjiang Gallery,
Crossing the autumn Toyota,
Crossing the scorching heat of the desert,
Going to the Zen room of Cuiyun Temple,
p>
There, I will eventually become a monk.
When the first morning bell rang, I looked in the distance,
The empty Zen room of Chuiyun Temple,
Oh, how ridiculous, laughing,
Tears wetted my clothes and heart.
The wind is blowing, the overwhelming love,
The white hair is gray.
Two
Dusk, distant mountains
Dark color in the sky, gradually falling asleep.
You are a thin scholar, walking alone in the mountains,
Wandering, what are you searching for,
The corridor of history is still a sad longing.
Fireflies hold up a light and listen,
Birds eat two crops of rice, indifferently.
Just performing a gorgeous night banquet.
Soon, the day reveals all the secrets of the night,
Baring the lovers in the valley to the river.
You said, take you away,
Go to the Crescent Moon Spring in the desert where the Gobi princess sheds tears,
But you can’t take away the deep love between the earth and the mountains. of nostalgia.
The sand city blown by the wind
Speechless, or heartless,
They are all deep feelings. There are only points left on the horizon that can never,
never intersect.
Many years later, with gray hair,
Looking in the distance, at the foot of the mountain,
There is an altar paved with lotuses,
You and I look at each other with low eyebrows. Sit down and talk about Zen.
三
Listen, the wind is blowing,
The dog-tail flowers in the mountains are shaking cunningly,
Intention, grow into golden rice,
Kiss the woman’s sickle frequently.
The wind said, don’t be ambiguous,
Don’t embrace the hot summer with tears in your eyes.
The pattering rain wet the moss and black tiles.
Let’s go, it is inevitable for fallen leaves to return to their roots. There are no clouds,
There is no depression and sadness of falling leaves,
That is the pretentiousness under the Mulanshan tree, what can I say,
The most beautiful heart is autumn,
Acacia farewell to the end of the world.
At the end of the sky,
The wind and clouds are surging, but there is no more, and the separation is still sad
The wild geese form a row under the city of Yingdu, for an instant
Outside the moat, there are old lotuses and lotus seeds.
And I only want to,
Still be the little daughter of a farmer in the mountains,
Carrying a bamboo basket,
Running in the golden countryside orchard, picking,
a good harvest. However,
Mother, she didn’t call me. The Wind Rises Essay 10
"Some people, no need to search, are still in the dimly lit place. Some people, want to keep, but the boat has passed the Ten Thousand Mountains."
Yu Rou The girl's body is always filled with the fragrance of roses. No matter where I see her, the fragrance of flowers will never change. Yurou held a bouquet full of roses, and the pedestrians on the road slowed down, and the fragrance of flowers spread throughout the alley.
The bluestone slabs are covered with moss, and the alleys are bustling with life, noisy and restless. The bluestone slabs leave traces of people coming and going. There was only one girl in a white dress, walking away.
The wind blew away Yu Rou’s shawl hair, and the passing years passed through the ends of her hair. The sunset was on the horizon, but the girl never looked back.
"Only the fireworks at that moment are the most shocking."
The fragrance of flowers swayed freely in the alley accompanied by the long skirt, and the sunset on the horizon became more and more beautiful, but the girl But still moving forward. Everything will pass eventually, if it is just a beautiful dream, that would be great. That would be a very beautiful dream. In the dream, there is a rose garden, the fragrance of flowers lingers around the tip of the nose, and there is a castle in a fairy tale.
The sunset glow dissipated and the sun finally set. There was a steady drizzle. The raindrops dripped down along the eaves and into the puddles, making a pleasant sound.
The rose has lost its vitality, but the fragrance is still floating. The petals fall one by one, falling silently into the puddle and floating in it. Ups and downs, erratic.
The rain has stopped.
The evening breeze caresses gently, carrying Shen Yue’s greetings. I don’t know where the pleasant sound of bells came from, and the whistle of a train came from the distance. Little stars are twinkling.
The moonlight shines weakly on the alley, and the wind picks up.
"The same is the moonlight, the same is the lights across the mountain, the sky is full of stars, only people are missing, hanging like a dream."