Monday, 31 August 2015

Youth - Time of Beautiful Emotion


















Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.


Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of 60 more than a boy of 20. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals.


Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.


Whether 60 or 16, there is in every human being’s heart the lure of wonders, the unfailing appetite for what’s next and the joy of the game of living. In the center of your heart and my heart, there is a wireless station; so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, courage and power from man and from the infinite, so long as you are young.


When your aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you’ve grown old, even at 20; but as long as your aerials are up, to catch waves of optimism, there’s hope you may die young at 80.



From:
http://www.inzeed.com/kaleidoscope/life/youth/

Friday, 21 August 2015

浮生半日 烟火红尘 一念清净 烈焰成池
















“半生漂泊,每一次雨打归舟”,浮生半日,烟火红尘,也说饮鸩不止渴,然终是一杯清茶洗过尘心,弦拨心上,山岚依如茶杯上的云烟。谁是谁别了三生三世的影,两吊钱赎回的旧梦遗风,谁还醉唱挽歌浅斟一盏薄情,清酒一壶就醉生梦死了时光。

苦雪烹茶安然度过世界末日,许多人和事都重生了,我想我也会忘了那只乌鸦在末日的方舟上几番徘徊,飞过无痕,狮子却说爱我就让全世界都知道。爱是一 场荨麻 疹,容我再洗净铅华,待千帆过尽。这一别两宽心,各生新欢喜。太阳升起的时候,举目四方宿命繁星。如陈亦迅唱那首苦瓜:当你干杯再举箸,突然间相看莞尔, 某萧瑟晚秋深夜,忽而明了了,而黄叶便碎落。

时间很短,天涯很远。自当终有弱水替三千。今宵请你多珍重,方配这半世流离醉笑三千场离散河两岸,江湖相忘。这杯烈酒下肚,碎一地离殇亦无需你刻意唱一曲骊歌摆渡,烟草的味道,风会把它稀释掉。

麦田几次成熟容我焚香安静的难过,心怀感恩,祈福。

诗经里说:一月气聚,二月水谷,三月驼云,四月裂帛,五月袷衣,六月莲灿,七月兰浆,八月诗禅,九月浮槎,十月女泽,十一月乘衣归,十二月风雪客。微雨突袭的三月桃花春柳拂面的桥头,可有良人云里衣衫?四月裂帛裂了思,陌上花谢了,可徐徐归么?

孰说世间所有的相遇都是久别重逢,亦记得某年某月某日小北说:我可以留着你,也可以放任自由。




期:浮世流光,惜物恋人。一念清净,烈焰成池。

寸寸云文不成文,如果是伤了春悲了秋,写一路醉,哭一路歌,扯断心神,终亦忘却寒山。诗人,你如山的行囊里数

不尽的人间烟柳可载得起这坛醉生梦死?

烟水悠悠,淡酒一盏,十二月风雪客,同年同月同日刮着同个方向同样度数的风,都已不是当时。我想我是在待着一位故人,他还没有来,也许在来的路途上,我且沏好了茶,待着,如此 就好。





转载自蝶比翼美文:
http://diebiyi.com/articles/essay/shishi/