Mozhu is faint, who is looking forward to who is Hua?

He is not as tough as a pine, not as noble as a peony, nor as charming as a rose. He is just a faint bamboo, there is no uniqueness that is unattainable, and there is no ordinary grass.

In the wind, he was able to stand upright. Sometimes he bends down because he knows that "modesty is a recipe for survival." In the rain, he will not dump. Because he understands, "After a storm, you can see a beautiful rainbow." So he will never fall. There is no ink mark on other bamboos, but he has. It is because he knows, "If there is no knowledge, how can you stand proudly between heaven and earth?"

He is proud, but not complacent, can bend and stretch; he is modest, but he is not humbled. He has no heart, but he also has love. In that aftermath and setbacks, I always guarded the flowers under his shade in a firm posture. In the winter, when he is on the verge of death, he will sprinkle the seeds that have been bred for a long time, let the descendants proliferate, and enter the sleep with his smile. He understands: "Death is actually the beginning of a new life. Repeating the course of life can If you truly taste the vicissitudes of life, you can taste the different emotions."

I respected the bamboo, respected his unyielding, and respected his modesty. He always sighed with such a faint, non-existent sense, sighing this world, passing through his life, understanding the vicissitudes of life, understanding the world, But don’t talk, don’t comment,

"Bamboo is unintentional, but there is love." His emotions did not end with the tediousness.

One day in his future, there may be a coward who will bring him into the abyss, but he still faces it in that faint way. He understands that perhaps his life will end in the raging fire and turn into ashes, but why not? If his selfishness would cause others to lose their warmth, then would rather not! I would like to let the rest of my life fully play out, give my own light and the tropics to the world, bring my own centuries to the earth, and after the end of life, sprinkle the ashes to the earth and nurture the next generation.

I love Mozhu because he is stupid, regardless of life and death, and lives for others. I love Mozhu because he is very sleepy, let me know his wisdom, the unparalleled restraint, the sorrow that no one knows for a hundred years.

Thanks to Mozhu, he gave me wisdom, I will continue, continue your faint wounds, faint pride, faint modest, faint kindness, and the life as light as autumn water, but also clear as autumn water.

Third day: ink dyed