At that time, we were ignorant and naive, fond of daydreaming and fantasizing. We loved the sentiment of being together under the flowers and the moon, indulged in the romance of the wind, flowers, snow, and the moon. That vague love made us yearn intensely, and those innocent fantasies filled us with passion. All things were transformed into varying degrees of beauty, whether faint or intense. A glance, a handshake, an embrace, a kiss – all were deeply etched onto the walls of our hearts, to be reviewed again and again through memories of those youthful years. The flowers of love bloomed freely and fully then, and the notes of love sang beautifully and touchingly. We rejoiced for love and were moved by emotions.
Who says that the young don't know the taste of sorrow, forcing themselves to express sorrow in new verses? That call from the depths of one's heart, that stirring emotion, truly imprints our insights and remembrances of life, living, and love. The promise of intertwined fingers, the sincere vows, the parting words of blessing - none of these are false or contrived. Instead, they carry the vast distance of thousands of mountains and rivers, the excitement of a shared understanding, and a form of eternal longing and remembrance.
The past events of this world are vividly remembered. The tender affection, the entangled love. The once passionate youths have been polished by life, losing their fervor, becoming lively yet reserved and calm. The roads once walked, the scenes once seen, have all been weathered by time, making it unclear to see the former smiles and tears. What remains are only delicate traces and rough, mottled calluses.
People always tend to reminisce and mourn when they lose something. The cycles of time have turned round and round, and our appearances have changed from youth to middle age. Yet, that magical wand of past love still shines brightly and vividly in our lives.
The laughter and joy of the past, the difficult partings, the lost feelings, the deep tenderness - all have become specks of dust, falling to the bottom of life. They are pushed aside by complex matters and busy pursuits, relegated to a secluded corner of the heart, coloring the backdrop of life with genuine tenderness.
Time is the executioner that kills youth; it is also the fire extinguisher that cools passion. On this grand stage of life, there are performances of the hundredfold sentiments of talented scholars and beauties, of emotional entanglements and partings. Deep within every soul lies a story of unforgettable love, whether it once drove them mad with passion or continues to haunt their thoughts day and night. The declaration of love has flowed with fervent blood and deep nostalgia. Youthful skies have been beautiful and brilliant because of love and pain.
Related thematic articles:
- Wang Fei's Great Collection
- Behind Love is Not Hate
- Blood is Transparent