此情可待成追忆

作者:呼延水白人气:231更新:2021-05-05 14:00:05

    时间,让深的东西越来越深 ,让浅的东西越来越浅。夜色阑珊,一席清辉,温柔缱绻 。我于月下执笔伏案 ,以相识为墨,相知为笺,深深落笔 ,书一阕相思如丹词,句句意切,字字凝咽。

    ——题记

    《一》

    不经意的那次邂逅 ,留给我的是美丽的回忆 ,使我的思绪停不下沉重的脚步。

    沿袭那种莫名的喜悦,就莫名镶嵌在心里 。日子变成朵朵文字,落了一地思念。

    烟锁清秋 ,几卷荷风微送,心头掠过一丝凉意。思绪,也随之蔓延开来 。

    月光如水 ,却难掩清冷的寂瑟。爱恨情仇的悱恻,在七弦琴上跳动,和着飘渺的笛音 ,澄澈了滚滚红尘。

    心绪忽地陷入一种温柔的伤感情怀里,不是被动,也不是忧悒 ,而是一种流连 。

    如同一杯被时光的碎影酝酿发酵已久的老酒,如痴如醉 。

    经年里拾起,依然是浅浅的疼。

    生命栉风沐雨 ,错过的越多 ,越发不敢停留。

    于是,我们一路跌跌撞撞,一路擦肩而过 。忘记了痛 ,忘记了回眸。

    总以为前面有坦途可以让自己停下来。于是,我们一路走,一路错过 。

    《二》

    相遇太美 ,无法安定停歇,我们一路的沧桑背负,顺着心沿堆积成茧。

    爱 ,则在心口处盛开出蔷薇花。看似娇艳,实则荼蘼 。

    我们路过、交错,从此天涯两端 ,已然陌路。转身,让回忆支离破碎。

    时光匆匆,我们终究只是红尘过客 。

    关上所有的心门 ,独独为你 ,打开一扇窗,是坚强?是倔强?抑或无助与迷茫?

    月光倾城的夜晚,一纸素笺 ,我用文字,轻轻呼唤你......

    不知从何时起,习惯一个人静静的 ,不去打扰,不被打扰。

    习惯一个人坐在电脑前,一灯如豆 ,素心若雪,于文字中寻求一份心灵寄托。

    淡月幽篁,隔窗摇曳 ,笔瘦指柔 。我于月下,清点过去的岁月;于字里行间,寻找你的踪影 。

    《三》

    青山碧水间 ,你乘一叶扁舟 ,踏浪而来,携千年等待,又万古相思 ,赴今生之约。

    唐诗宋词里,你饱蘸深情,隔着山水重重 ,踩着平平仄仄的韵脚,走进我的心扉。

    你说,你是我不曾知晓的兵荒马乱 ,我是你不曾触及的倾城温柔 。

    月光倾城,谁伴我杏花疏影里,吹笛到天明?

    生命中有一些人与我们擦肩了 ,却来不及遇见;

    遇见了,却来不及相识;相识了,却来不及熟悉;熟悉了 ,却还是要说再见。

    或者 ,一切早有定数。

    缘来,则聚;缘去,则散 。一点儿也强求不得。

    如同迷恋一座城 ,该离开终究是要离开。

    时光如沙,城里城外,谁染了谁的忧伤?谁在乎我满目风霜?

    念你 ,有时面若桃花,有时潸然泪下 。而此刻,我却不悲不喜。

    一如今夜 ,盈月满天,

    如潮的思绪浸润在湛湛清辉里,一种骨感的静寂弥漫 ,久久的沉醉,微笑着,不愿醒来。

    一如这轻轻柔柔的风 ,这涓涓淙淙的乐曲 。

    当一切都已散场 ,谁还能陪君醉笑三千场,不诉离殇?

    《四》

    当我抚摸岁月的河流,只触摸到无尽的孤独的灵魂和无限错开的情感 ,我依然期盼,在岁月的尽头,捡拾起那一片温柔。

    终究不知道 ,你要的,我给的,是不是同一种感情。

    之于你我 ,或许这样安然离开,便是最好的结局 。纵然红尘陌路,总是曾经遇见 ,日后,风雨飘摇,也好 。

    我只有在心裸时 ,在心底某个地方 ,黯然想起,无法释放。

    我藏不住秘密,也藏不住忧伤 ,正如我藏不住相聚时的喜悦,也藏不住分离时的彷徨。

    见与不见,都在心里 。

    万千心事弹于指尖 ,你是否能听得见?

    我已开始满目沧桑,却等不到你的姗姗来迟;

    我已经开始容颜苍老,你是否能够知道?

    但愿 ,他年相见,花开如昔......

    《五》

    白落梅说,

    每个人的生命长短不一 ,我们所能做的,只是在活着的时候不要留下太多的遗憾。

    至于来生会如何,会发生怎样的故事 ,谁也不知道。

    待到老时 ,回首经年,曾经一起听过鸟鸣,一起等过花开 ,一起看过月圆的人,也许早已离你远去 。

    而那些执手相看的背影,恍若流水的诺言 ,也成了一桩桩残缺不全的往事。

    时间煮雨,往事如雨。那些已经久远了的,那些美好的人 ,那些只是对某些人而言的事,都被时间煮成雨水,浇灌一切新生 ,覆盖昨日的灿烂 。

    打开岁月的皱纹,早已将寂寞站成一树仰望。

    渴盼一种醉,羡太白举杯邀明月 ,又恐对影成三人。

    渴盼一莲从善如流 ,淡然与包容 。包容过去,接纳未来。

    渴盼一份懂得,是懂得让爱奔流。

    懂得了花开自有花谢的道理 ,亦然明了曾经和过去 。永远到底有多远,完美的世界没有永远 。

    习惯听说遇见,听说怀念 ,只是,请别再说永远。

    往事如烟,关于过去 ,关于故事,都将被流年一送再送,一远在远。从此 ,山河永寂 。

    别后余生,依旧是烟雨几度吹斜阳,依旧将你在我的文字里 ,迎来 、送走。

    而我会一直在 ,纵使寂寞成海......

    《六》

    今夕何夕,

    青草离离,

    明月夜送君千里 ,

    等来年,秋风起......

    ——听《时间煮雨》有感文作者:碧雲天

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英译版本:

Time, let the deep things get deeper, let shallow things are getting more and more shallow. The night is gentle, a suggestion, gentle. I wrote a question in the moon, with a knowledge as ink, knowing the notes, deeply dropped, and the book is like a Dan word, the sentence is intention, and the words are gel.
- Inscription

"One"

Inadvertent, it is a beautiful memory, so that my thoughts can't stop the heavy footsteps.

The inexplicable joy is inexplicably in the heart. The days turned into a blossoming text, and I will miss it.

Smoke lock in the autumn, several rolls of the wind, the heart, the heart brushed a slender. Thoughts, it also spreads.

Moonlight is like water, but it is difficult to cover cold silence. Love hates the embarrassment, jump on the seven strings, and the ethereal flute, clear red dust.

The mood is in a gentle injury, not passive, nor is it worry, but a streamlined.

The old wine that has been fermented by a glass of graphic shadows in time, as 如 如..

When you pick up the year, it is still shallow pain.

The life of life, the more you missed, you can't stop.
So, we fell all the way, all the way. Forgot the pain, forget the back.

Also thinks that you can stop yourself in front. So, we will go all the way, all the way.

"Two"

When you meet too beautiful, you can't set it off. We have a lunarity of the vicissitudes all the way.
Love, the rose flower is opened at the heart. It seems that it is beautiful, and it is true.

We pass, interlaced, from both ends of the world, is already strange. Tap, let the memories are broken.

Time is in a hurry, we will only be a Hongru.

Close all the hearts, alone, open a window, is strong? Is it stubborn? Order or confused?

The night of the moonlight, one piece of paper, I use words, gently call you ...

I don't know when, I am used to alone, I don't bother, I don't bother, not bother .

It is used to sitting in front of the computer, a light is like a bean, the heart is snowing, and it is looking for a soul.

The moon is swaying, the window swaying, the pen is thin. I am in the month, in the past years; in the word line, look for your trace.

"Three"

Qingshan clear water, you take a leaf boating, the waves come, bring thousands of years waiting, ever thinking, going to this life.

Tang poetry, you are full of affection, heavy in the landscape, step on the flat rhyme, walk into my heart.

You said that you are the soldiers that I have never known, I am a gentle city you never touched.

Moonlight is in the city, who is with me apricot, piercing to Tianming?

There are some people in life, but they have no time to meet;

I met, but I didn't have time to meet; I met, but I didn't have it to be familiar; familiar, but I still have to say goodbye.
Alternatively, everything has a set.

The fate is, then the gathering; the edge, it is scattered. It is also impossible for it at all.

If you are obsessed with a city, it is to leave.

Time is like sand, outside the city, who is dyed? Who cares about me full of wind?

Read you, sometimes the peach blossom, sometimes tears. At this moment, I am not sad.

One night, Ying Yue is full,

If the tide thoughts are infiltrated in Zhan Zhanqing, a bone's feelings are filled, long-awaited, smile, do not want wake up.

As this gently soft wind, this tricky music.

When everything has been spread, who can accompany the king to laugh 3,000, do not ask for it?
"Four"

When I stroked the river in the years, I only touched the endless lonely soul and infinitely confused emotions. I still hope that at the end of the year, pick up that soft.

If you don't know, you want, I will give it, is it the same feelings.

It's for you, maybe it's the best ending. Even if the red dust is strange, I have always met, in the future, the wind and rain are shaken.

I only have a place in my heart, I think of it, I can't release it.

I can't hide the secret, and I can't hide the sadness. As I can't hide the joy, I can't hide the separation.

Seeing and disappearing, all in your heart.
Do you want to see if you can listen to the fingertips?

I have begun full of vicissitudes, but I can't wait for you.

I have started to come to Yan Dong, can you know?

I hope that he meets each other, flowers to the past ...

"Five"

Bai Lu Mei said,

Personal life is very short, we can do, just don't leave too many regrets when you live.

What kind of story will happen as for the coming life, no one knows.

When I got old, I went back to the year, I have heard birds, waiting for the flowers together, and I have seen the moon together, maybe I have already left you away.

Those who have a good look at it, and the promise of water is also a shortcoming of a short thing.

Time is boiled, the past is like rain. Those who have long been long, those beautiful, those who are only for some people, are cooked into rain, water all new students, covering yesterday's splendid.

Opened the wrinkles of the years, I have long been standing on a tree.

is eager to be drunk, and the moon is in the moon, and it is fear that it is three people.

Huning, a lotus is as good as flow, it is lightWith inclusive. Accelerated in the past and accepts the future.

Huning is known, knowing how to let love.

Know that the truth of spending from Huayi is also clear, and it has been in the past. How far is forever, the perfect world is not always.

The habits I have encountered, I heard that I miss, just, please don't say forever.

The past is like smoke, about the past, about the story, will be sent by the year, a long distance. Since then, the mountain river is always lonely.

After another, the rest is still a few degrees of smoke, still in my text, ushered in my text.

And I will always, even if you are lonely into the sea ...

"Six"

He Xi,

Green grass leave,

moon night Song Jun Trinidad,

and so on in the coming year, the autumn wind ......

- listen to "time to cook rain" felt authors: Pik days

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