This is how the world ended, not with a bang, but with a hiss.
The wind is blowing briskly, blowing me home. Irish boy, where do you live?
But when we came back, it was too late. When we came out of the garden in hyacinthus orientalis, your arms were full and your hair was wet, so I couldn't speak. I can't see with my eyes I'm neither alive nor dead. I don't know anything. When I look at the bright center, it is silent, desolate and empty. That's the sea.
April is the cruelest month. Lilacs grow on the wasteland, mixed with memories and desires, and let the spring rain rush those slow roots and buds.
6. I heard the key sound and turned it in the door lock once, only once. We thought of this key. Everyone is thinking about this key in their own prison. Everyone is guarding his cell. Only at dusk, the sound from outside can make the broken things reborn again.
7, I want to show you something, it is not like your shadow in the morning, stepping behind you; Unlike at night, I stand up to meet you; I want you to know that fear is in a handful of dust.
8. Some people have no expectations for love. They just want to study quietly for a few years and then make a fortune. You have built a high wall, and you want someone to love you regardless of difficulties.
Oh, the moonlight shines brightly on Mrs. Bolt and her daughter. They washed their feet with soda water.
10. Under the yellow fog at dawn in winter, a group of people filed across London Bridge. The number is so large that I didn't expect death to destroy many people. Sigh, short and rare, spit it out, everyone's eyes are fixed on their feet.
1 1, my friend, blood shakes my heart. The extraordinary courage to sacrifice at this moment can never be recovered in a prudent era. With this and only this, we exist.
12, the world is surrounded by flowers, but our hearts are getting poorer and poorer.
13, the road twists and turns in the fatigue of ancient wars, the broken arrow of the sick, the noise of chaos and injustice, and it is easy to fall silent. Memories are better than those bones. Pride is broken, but its shadow is long. On the long and narrow road, there is no competition of bones.
14, neither full nor empty. Only a glimmer of light shines on the time-stamped faces, and their minds become empty because of distraction. Fantasy is endless, trance is like fantasy, as cold as ice. Official documents are blown around by cold air, which is inhaled and exhaled by countless sick lungs.
15. In summer, a shower swept through Lake Steinberg and suddenly attacked us. We stayed under the arcade, then we took a walk in the sun, went into Hoff Garden, had coffee and talked for an hour.