Chapter 270: 361 chapters, Walking with Love Part Five

361 chapters, Walking with Love Part Five

361 chapters, Walking with Love Part Five

(I want to say a few words to you, friend)

The wind and rain are bleak and bleak, the roosters crow cha-cha; upon seeing the gentleman, how could one not be happy? This is the joy ancient people felt on a windy, rainy night, in loneliness and solitude, upon seeing the person they longed for.

Yes, when a person is lonely, desolate, helpless, and without aid, they always hope to have a friend come share their loneliness, their desolation, even their pain, their …………..

This is humanity, full of emotion.

Afterwards, when his Flirting and his righteousness cannot be understood, even being misunderstood, even being trampled, he will raise his cup to dispel sorrow, but sorrow grows more sorrowful; he draws his sword to cut off water, but water flows even more…………

Especially for scholars, this feeling is even stronger.

Remember, in the Tang Dynasty there was a person named Liu Zongyuan. Once, he was assigned to a remote frontier —

Leaving his hometown, leaving his relatives, he arrived at a desolate solitary city.

It might also have been a bleak windy, rainy night (a summer night?), when, feeling unable to dispel his loneliness, he wrote these few lines of heartfelt, moving words —

On the city, tall towers join the vast wilderness; the sea and sky fill with boundless sorrowful thought.

Startling winds wildly smash the hibiscus waters; dense rain slantly invades the maidenhair vine walls.

Layered trees on the ridges block the view for a thousand miles; the river winds like a nine-fold intestine.

Together they come to the tattooed lands of the Hundred Yue, yet still they send letters home to their hometown.

On a night of bitter wind and bitter rain, the poet thought of —

In the lotus pond, those beautiful lotus flowers are being blown by the wild wind, struck by the cold wind. Those lotuses preparing to offer their beauty to the sunlight, in the dark night's wind and rain, are mercilessly blown apart by the wind and rain into disarray.

The lotus flowers and leaves are innocent, they are passive.

Their fibers are soft and beautiful, yet when they suffer the destruction of wind and rain, they have nowhere to hide…………

I often, facing these lines of poetry, silently shed tears — for beauty destroyed I weep, for purity defiled I weep, for weakness violated I weep………………

But I am forever powerless; in this world, my fate is even less than that of the hibiscus in the wind and rain…………

Because I am a small grass in the wind and rain……

(Friend, please don't leave me, I am so lonely and still have words to say to you — wishing you a day of good luck, good mood!)