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Almost a month has passed had I gathered up all my tears or fears or whatever feelings to write this one down.It was the hardest thing I ever tried to do, to find the exact words or the right sentences to express how much this haunting dreamy poem Ang Lee has drown the world with teardrops,lovin'ness and compassion.Words are pale, just like our strength against destiny is frail.
When I struggle to describe the feelings brought by this film by Ang Lee, the language itself seems Being so pale and feeble, it is like our insignificant resistance when facing the big hand of that unresolved destiny.
Every road has its turning points and ending silences, only not if your heart goes on beyond it;
Every song has its ups and downs and finishing echos, only not if your spirit flies much afar;
Every dream has its twistings and sweetnesses and wakin 'moments, only not if your emotion soars into its unknown blues;
each road has its own leisurely meander along and silence in the end, only the heart but they can not continue to fly out to contain The gaze of the road;
each song is different from the sorrows and joys of his ups and downs and the ending of the curtain. Only the intoxicated spirit can continue the movement of nature infinitely;
every dream has ambiguous entanglements and moments When you wake up from a lonely dream, only the obsessive love can be immersed in the dream and true boundless sadness.
Not this one, not this.
This movie is not over, it seems it will never end.
Never did the sounds of whisky, spring and blue birds of Brokeback fade, everyday they stream out from nowhere right into every breath to take and echo even stronger.
Never did the smile of innocence and the happiness of hearts down the valley of Brokeback wane, each moment they spark among the stars and mingle into the milky way above.
The curling smoke in the mountains, the gurgling springs and the crisp sound of blue birds spread endlessly into every breath, day after day Clear.
The pure happiness of the valley, the innocent laughter, and the leisurely harmonica gradually approach the same Milky Way as it spreads in the endless starry sky, gradually approaching and becoming more vivid.
Because love, is the unbearable lightness of being
.
Their Love are the WHO hide Those Shy, But in Their Eyes you CAN AN Ocean the Find.
Those the WHO Chase Their Love Smile, But in Their Eyes Endless Blues you CAN Rhyme.
Those who shy try to hide their love, but their The eyes are as clear as the sea;
those who love to laugh keep chasing their love, but their eyes are deep and blue.
Life never tells any of us where the overwhelming emotions of love would shine, nor will it tell us when it is going to be a last goodbye.Life wisely gives us the power to choose and the chances to hold on to, but not telling which direction the wind of change might just begin to flow.Along with nothing but the will to make things right did we start our sailing through the ocean of destiny, knowing or still wondering where the shore of hope hides, a place where there is only love , a place where there are no need to hide or cry, a place where the blue birds sing sweet lullabies over the rainbow.
Fate never tells us when and where the feelings in life will appear, just as it will not tell us "Goodbye" on a certain year, a certain day, and a certain day means that you can't see you again. Fate generously gives us the power and opportunity to chase, but cunningly never reveals that the changing life monsoon will bring the heat of summer or the ice and snow of winter in the next second. So we set sail. In the vast ocean, there is nothing but the courage to follow the beautiful in our hearts ignorantly. Perseverance or doubtful thinking, the flowers on the other bank are in full bloom, the green grass is green, there are no more tears and helplessness, obsessive or dimly seeing, the rainbow on the other bank, the singing of blue birds, the fragrance of love is blowing on the face.
A place called Brokeback.
Everyone is looking for their own shore, so everyone has a Brokeback Mountain in their heart.
Guess that's why the poets travels in the seas of words and throughts, struggling to find the right lyric for a line.Guess that's why artists paint the sky with so many stars, coloring the night from vast loneliness.
Perhaps it is true, poets Pursuing in the ocean of words and thoughts, trying to find every word that makes the poem seamless; perhaps it is just that, the painters searched drunkly in the center of colorful light and shadow, lighting up the boundless sky to comfort everybody A lonely heart.
Guess that's why when it has already been a while, Brokeback Mountain still haunts deeper and deeper into the soul.
Perhaps it is true, even if this meant years no longer walk through Magnificence, "Brokeback Mountain" will leave a share feelings Lingering, immersed in every hint of yellowish memory.
And there is the time, luring all to conqure and so burdened be thee.
It is also this endless river of years, which constantly calls us to become the tidemakers of destiny, and at the same time leaves every face with the microwave of the river.
And there is the mountain, with snow capped tops and limpid springs, with duteous sheep and gentle breeze, with memories of a lifetime, haunting in my dreams, each single night.
Then See mountains, snow-capped peak, mountain clear lesson , With the breeze blowing and the gentle flock of sheep, with a calm and eternal memory, every night with the sky full of stars come back to the dream.
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