1938-1945
He felt that for the country, these eight years were simply negligible in its long life.
But the memories of these eight years are unforgettable for him.
All the boundaries between justice and evil, love and hatred, right and wrong... All the boundaries became blurred in those eight years, just like the place where the blue ocean and the blue sky meet, it is unclear whether it belongs to the sea or the sky.
Sometimes, he would recall those eight years of life in his home in Vienna. He would like to play a piece of music to express his inner mood, but he found that he could not do it after searching all the music.
This is a contradiction in itself. At that time, he hated that person crazily, but also loved that person crazily.
Perhaps love and hate themselves are a contradictory unity.
He wrote ten laments and one line of love poetry, all of which turned to feathery gray.
But he found that he had walked for a long time and finally returned to the starting point.