Wherever spring returns, it is lonely and has no way to travel.
If anyone knows where spring goes.
Called to come back and live together.
Who knows if there is no trace of spring.
Unless you ask for oriole.
No one can understand a hundred words, because the wind flies over the roses.
-------"Qingpingle" Huang Tingjian
In the vast ocean of time and space, where am I? We are determined to grasp the present, but how can we forget the "past" outside eternal time and space?
Across the vast sea of time, why am I here? Is it a malicious trick from God? Or is there another purpose? I just wish it was an accident! He yearns for a peaceful and indifferent life, but seems to be inextricably linked to trouble. Who is it that disturbs a pool of still water for nothing?