There are not many images left to him by Japan, such as strange plants and trees, steaming hot springs, happy children, and the back figure that hovers in the depths of the dream. Creamy skin, soft jade hands, and brocade blue silk, as soon as she turned around and sank into the water, the dream was over.
I know what he is missing. In an ancient country that was closed to him, there was a touch of seductive beauty in his pale journey, the introverted beauty of beauty, the obscure beauty of beauty, that kind of beauty, the mystery that was not clearly seen, and the splendid expectation in his heart under the veil. The overturned teacup in the girl's hand was filled with old dreams of an ancient kingdom, and together with the cumbersome and complicated etiquette, it became a part of the festival. Every movement of hers is like a ritual, cold and imprisoned, which makes those elusive ambiguities even more tempting.
The sun in the south of France is moist and bright, and the golden light hits Helen softly, in his eyes it is like an element of an oil painting. She was smart and lively, and her eyes were full of the vitality of midsummer. She held his hand to run and stroll in the woods, maybe it was a certain moment, or all of this, that made his heart move. When he met Helen, it was like the encounter between fish and water. It was the piece that made life complete, the fit between life and soul.
His life would be complete and without regrets, if he hadn't stepped out of the early summer sunshine, or he would have regarded that dawn as his way home whenever he could.
The heart has been released, where can it be taken back.
He crossed the bright morning light of Western Europe alone, pushed through the misty fog of the Siberian plain, and sailed across the blue ocean where the water and sky were full of waves. on wooden floor. The wooden buildings are simple and heavy, the air seems to be filled with the long-lasting fragrance of tea, and the interior is obscure and dim. This is the end of the world.
As if there was light coming from the dark enchantment package, the wooden lattice door slowly opened, it was light, it was unknown, it was doom. He should fall in love with her, this is not an accident of one in ten thousand, but the inevitable coincidence of time and space culture - he is trapped in the dark pool of ink that is half-smile but not smiling.
There is not much dialogue in the whole film, there is, and it is quiet and quiet. Language is a river, and the unknown is the mist surrounding the river. He can only look across the bank to the mystery of the gurgling flow. Between him and her, there was only silence, only erratic dark eyes, and there was a bit of hazy temptation.
Seduction indeed.
She took the china cup he drank and took a sip of the tea, but her eyes were fixed on him. After a few inches of skin's touch, the residual warmth quickly evaporated, leaving only the meager note in the palm of his hand, printed with words he couldn't understand.
It was so easy to get on the heart, and I thought that this could be the way back.
Remembering his answer to Ishihara's tricky question, he just said indifferently, I am the person sitting in front of you, with an ordinary childhood, married to a beloved woman, in a place you have never heard of. lived in a French town.
Did he realize that the woman might just be an ordinary Yamato woman who grew up ordinary, with an extraordinary appearance, and devoted herself to others. It was so unusual in his eyes.
On the return journey, there are thousands of mountains and rivers, and home is just ahead.
It is still possible to live an ordinary and stable life, and there are still people who can love and be loved. It seems that nothing has changed, but it seems that everything has changed.
He gave Helen an enviable life, gardens, villas, leisure, repeating the love words that he never tire of, but his heart drifted far away. In the trance, it was not the Helen who used to miss him from time to time, but the vague and broken elements, the mist of the hot spring. , satin-like black hair, butterfly bones lingering like wings. He didn't know that he was obsessed with these eternal images. He thought she was the body where his soul lived, and looked forward to seeing her again on the next journey - what if he saw her, he didn't care, like an ostrich, put his head on his head Buried in the sand, living on illusions, feeding on nothingness.
After he left, the bright and bright colors seemed to be covered with a layer of mist. The small town where she lived in the four seasons like summer could be so cold and so cold. It seemed that every time Helen appeared, it was for parting, kissing reluctantly, standing at the end of the road and watching the carriage disappear into the distance. Her strong face is heart-wrenching. She couldn't remember which time she said goodbye, but when the carriage drove away, she took two steps lightly, knowing that she couldn't keep it, so she stopped. The carriage suddenly stopped, and the man jumped out of the carriage in a hurry, and she went up to him and kissed. He said, I will always love you.
He had never understood Helen, and she had never entered his heart. Even if he buried all this in his heart, she was as smart as she knew the whole story, but couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't replace those beautiful images, so she tried her best to create a reason to go home. Year after year, she waited disheartened.
The hometown is still there, and the overgrown land is now full of lilies. She walks in the yard alone, thinking about some past events. When they were newly married, flowers were raining at the entrance of the church; she held his hand and ran wildly in the woods, kissing; his nostalgic eyes when he left home for the first time; she walked a long, long way blindfolded, and when she opened her eyes What I arrived at was the forest hut and a whole piece of land in the fairy tale, and what I saw was the old man waiting together.
Are we all old, she asked.
Isn't it only when you get old that your mind will be as still as water and all thoughts will be empty? Why do I seem to have traveled all over the world, and experienced vicissitudes of life, and my life and death are all empty.
Are we all getting old, you say.
After Helen left, the garden was full of pure white lilies.
He finally knew that the farewell letter was originally from Helen's hand. The letter seemed to be muttered by a person, repeating a dream over and over again. In the dream, the two were tenderly kissing each other, sinking in the dark river, not knowing the way back. , but to separate.
He finally stopped insisting on keeping this secret, finally realized the gap in language, and wanted to dump it all. He began to tell a story. From the beginning to the end, there were only two women. They were entangled in his heart. In the Qingming, what he saw was Helen's flowery smile.
2015-12-26
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