Poetic life

Yeats said: "When a person's heart has happiness, his life will become happy." Similarly, when a person's heart has poetry, his life will become poetic. "Before watching the flowers in the court, sit and watch the clouds in the sky." This is the true portrayal of my poetic life. Looking at the fog, I live poetically. When the layer of "lace" is pressed down from the sky, the whole body will be filled with the smell of the sky. But the best thing is the color of the fog. The color is a degree, the fog is 45 ° pure white, it is not pure white, nor transparent and clear, but it is the most perfect, it is more moist than the color, more dazzling than the night, more mysterious than the color, That's because it makes us realize the beauty of 朦胧 - just like our life. Yes, most of our lives can't be pure, can't achieve perfect 90°, then do foggy 45°! Sometimes imperfections are perfect, and impurities are more memorable than pure. This is the beauty of the "fog" life I realized in the poetry of the fog. Tea, I live poetically. When you put that smear of fresh green into a hot, see those blue clouds floating in the transparent, the smog of water slowly evaporates in the air, leaving the lingering musk. Take a deep breath, the wonderful aroma will flow to every corner of the body, making people obsessed. Take a sip. There was a bit of bitterness at the entrance, but it was followed by a strong sweetness. Slowly, the sweetness also dissipated, but the aftertaste remained at the tip of the tongue, and when it was licked, it immediately spattered. Musk. I like the taste of tea, which is the taste of Chinese traditional culture, the deep taste of the smell that is smelled by the nose. Our ancient spirit is just like tea. It seems to be ordinary. In fact, the more products, the more connotation, the more poetry the more products. What can be more poetic than this, in the ordinary days, to relive our broad cultural heritage? Copying, I live poetically. I like to see the blue ink smudged on the white paper, so I fell in love with copying. Copying Rousseau and Nietzsche, returning to the true eternity, compound will and confession. I copied the "Snow Country" by Kawabata Yasunari. It turned out to be so colorful and can also pay for the broken life. Copying Prut's "Reminiscences like Water", I feel the power of silence, copying "The Cabin on Mango Street" and "Little Prince", has a beautiful sadness, can see the sky of forty-four sunsets a day. Copy the "Norwegian Forest" and think about the silence that belongs to the soul and death. Many times, it will be hurt by tears, not to lament, but to be moved. In the poetic atmosphere, the reflection of life is carved on paper with a real touch. In my heart, I use the spirit of ink to decorate my poetic life. Look at the fog, poetic and romantic; taste, poetic and elegant; copy, poetic and elegant. I love my poetic life!

Third day: Li Muying