Why do we always teeter on the edge of desire and pain?
Why do we wander all our lives?
Why don't we know how to love?
Why are we afraid to take the first step?
Why we always have to reach the end of our lives
Only then can we realize what is the most precious thing in this life?
We are always in hindsight, tricked by time
regret the past with the present, regret the present with the future
What is eternity? Maybe it's a day
It's the day when we can truly understand the true meaning of life
is the day we truly know how to love
In fact, there are many things in life
It's just an illusion given to you by others
I thought that everyone has an awakening period
But sooner or later awakening determines one's destiny
Maybe our whole life
are learning and understanding how to love others
(The above excerpt is "Yuege" language)
Poets are roughly the same, neurotic, incoherent, perverse behavior, weird and withdrawn, arrogant, unworldly, impersonal, too idealistic, not crazy, not alive, and so on, in short, poets are in the eyes of ordinary people It is a complete alien monster, useless. . .
The poet's life may be very sad, but human beings have spiritual sublimation... As the saying goes:
Spring silkworms die
The wax torch turns to ashes and the tears start to dry
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