Good words and sentences in "The Pastoral of the Four Seasons"

boudoir, wasted time, malaise, competition

Prose of the Pastoral of the Four Seasons

Spring Heart

Spring is coming as promised, and the style is like a girl who has just left the boudoir. She came with a message, the message of life. All things are vying to be flattering, and the soil that has been sealed all winter begins to wake up and exudes an attractive and rich fragrance.

Spring is a good sowing season.

I stepped into my own farmland and raised my hoe with pride. Yet my barren land is so impregnable. The hoe groaned in pain, while Can Dong hid in a dark corner and snickered coldly: Hard work is hidden in my body very stingily, but my laziness slipped out unknowingly. I threw away the crying hoe dejectedly, fell into Miss Chun's arms, and let the sun steal my sweat.

At this time, a voice sounded in my ears: You have no time to kill yourself, you are not qualified to waste yourself, you can only fight hard, you have no chance to choose!

Yes! The seeds of my hope have begun to ferment. If not cultivated in time, my life will rot along with the seeds.

I tied up laziness, drove hard work out of my body, and asked Miss Spring to drive the remaining winter away from my field. Then, I gently patted the weeping hoe, and with it dry the sleeping soil in the blissful breeze.

The sun is drinking my sweat.

On a particularly solemn day, I sow the seeds religiously.

A kind of hope has taken root in my heart since then...

Xia Yu

This is a season where hope and disappointment coexist.

The harmonious spring has disappeared, and it has been swallowed up by the heat of summer along with the footsteps of winter. The wind has also become vulgar and unbearable, and everything is living like a year in the scorching summer. Only the cicada is singing triumphantly, and its monotonous neighing makes the tree family feel depressed.

The sun is becoming more and more greedy. It always rises from the East China Sea early, sneaks under the belly of the universe, steals the most precious water source in the world, and sneaks in again at dusk without paying attention. Enter the Western Mountain.

In this humid summer season, my field is still dry. The cracks opened by the sunlight looked up at my green seedlings ferociously. In the days and nights that followed, two doors suddenly appeared in my life - waiting and searching. In those unknown days, I chose the former. From then on, I was like a believer who burns incense and prays for a timely rain in summer. However, time quietly slipped away in my prayers and dropped a string of ridicules. Suddenly, I realized that my farmland was still dry and my green hope was dying. I regret it! I hate it! Why am I holding on to illusions and waiting hopelessly? In the kingdom of extravagant hopes, I am a complete ignorant delusionalist.

The seedlings are swaying in begging. I must save them and save myself.

The morning star still reluctantly stays in the sky in the east. I carry my bag, pack it with faith and pursuit, and rely on these two forces to find the source of my survival.

The thorns cut my feet, the wind and dust scratched my will, and a source of life emerged in my perseverance. With all the exhaustion all over my body, the gurgling spring water extended back under my extradition...

In the days to come, Ku Xia and I are still competing between heaven and earth. Even though I was covered in trauma and frustrated a lot, I still couldn't change the firm belief in my heart.

Autumn is coming quietly to me...

Autumn marks

When I woke up, I felt a voice singing in front of my window , who is it? It turns out to be the sound of autumn.

I gently opened the window, and a scenery unique to autumn suddenly appeared in front of me. The maple leaves everywhere blushed under the caress of the autumn wind. There was a maple leaf that was intoxicated by a certain sound. It fell down from the branch and woke up the cicada who was dreaming of autumn. The cicada lazily climbed up the tree trunk, and then began to chatter endlessly. I don’t know whether it is complaining about the autumn wind or the maple leaves.

Autumn is the harvest season.

Picking up a handful of thin millet, a bitterness that had been trapped in my heart for a long time slowly surged into my heart. Looking back at the past, on the land of spring, I turned a belief into the driving force of creation, turned youth into elements of fertile soil, turned my soul into harvestable seeds, and sowed my passion for life.

In those days of hard work, childishness was my best teacher. It made me understand what maturity is. Waiting is my best friend, it advises me not to be stranded by it. He Miao is my closest lover. It accompanied me through the most difficult period. Extravagant hopes and dreams are my biggest enemies, but they cannot imprison my thoughts.

Looking at the shriveled grains of millet in my hand, I didn’t feel the slightest regret because of its ugliness. In fact, it is precisely because of this thin hope that my life is extremely rich. However, I did not lose myself in the joy of harvest. Because I know that my life will meet spring again and fight with summer. In the future life, there will be drought, thunder and lightning, strong wind and hail in the sky. They will suddenly appear when I don't expect them, and I must prepare for and bear all unexpected events.

Many years ago, there was a girl who lived in the same city as me. Her name was related to the plum blossoms in winter. She left with death in the unknown dusk of autumn. That autumn! Your life is fragrant and pleasant, but why has it become an epiphyllum after the rain? That year, that autumn, that evening, the sunset was bright red, just like the red maple leaves in my life.

Since that year, autumn has become my second lover. Every year when the autumn wind blows, I will always take out the maple leaves that I have collected for many years and display them under the moonlight. Even though they are not fragrant, people are already drunk.

Dong Thoughts

Winter is a kind and kind old man. Based on his broad mind, I have sensed his language.

Winter said: I just walked through the door of spring, summer and autumn. Ting Chun said that she likes people who are strong-willed and hard-working. I heard from Xia that he likes people who are weak-willed and lazy. I heard from Qiu that she likes people who are good at thinking and cherishing life when they mature.

So, what kind of person do you like in winter?

Standing in front of the winter window, my thoughts dance in the silvery white sky with the snowflakes all over the sky.

In this world that is about to deteriorate, the appearance of such pure white snowflakes is undoubtedly unprecedented and unprecedented. There are so many flaws in this world that there is almost nothing more perfect to make up for it. I don’t know why snowflakes choose to appear in winter. Maybe it can hide all the ugliness and flaws in the world of mortals.

A snowflake floated in from the window, fell into the palm of my hand, and melted into a drop of water. Is she still a snowflake again?

A cold wind came through the window. I shivered and quickly closed the window. I turned back and sat in front of the burning charcoal pot, and opened the book "Sail" by the Russian poet Lermontov at random. 》——

In the light blue clouds on the sea,

there is a solitary sail shining with white light.

What does it seek? In a far away foreign land,

What did it leave behind? In its hometown.

The waves are raging, the sea wind is roaring,

The mast is bowing and rolling,

Alas, alas! It is not seeking happiness!

It is not about escaping happiness and running to other places.

Below are the waves that are clearer than the blue sky,

Above is the golden sunshine,

And it, restlessly, is praying for a storm,

It seems that there is peace only in the storm.