Time slides through the hair, dyeing it white with the vicissitudes of time, and outlines the cold mountains and thin water. The winter scenery is rich in white and light yellow, and everything is quiet. At the end of this year, the wind and frost have desolated the mountains and

Time passes through the hair, dyeing it white with the vicissitudes of time, and outlines the cold mountains and thin water. The winter scenery is rich in white and light yellow, and everything is quiet.

At the end of this year, the wind and frost have desolated the mountains and rivers, and the epidemic has depressed the streets. We cannot feel the vitality of life, and we cannot see the tranquility of the years.

This year’s winter is bleaker than before, with the cold wave continuing and the epidemic raging. Picking up a piece of inner tranquility to fill the poetry of life, only to find that deep within the fireworks, human nature is ugly.

Life is like a dream, what is the geometry of life? Walking on the long road where time flows, I am used to seeing the prosperity and decline of the seasons. Isn’t that period of time just a clear dream? Why bother with flowers and plants competing for beauty?

Flowers are as brilliant as flowers, and grass is as delicate as grass. They are all passers-by in life. Why should we expect that time will last forever.

Ordinary people should live a normal life, not afraid of the desolation of the years, not afraid of the raging epidemic, carry a piece of happiness and keep a piece of simplicity. Even if life cannot be like fireworks, they should let happiness wait in each other's care.

Everyone has his or her own story, and every life will lead a wonderful life. After years of baptism and the test of the epidemic, I believe that the world is no longer cold and people's hearts are still affectionate and warm.

Since we have chosen a distant place, we must learn to endure hardships; since we have chosen a poetic life, we must learn to cook time slowly.

Life is not easy and years are hard, so let poetry and distance build our dreams. Life is tiring, and the soul is tired. Looking for a quiet corner to lick the wounds for comfort. We cannot resist the epidemic, but we can choose to live affectionately and smile happily.

In the remaining years, I hope that I will encounter beauty every day, and that every moment will be poetic. Since we have chosen to live, we should choose to be happy and peaceful, not to be sloppy, not to be vulgar, and to live out every beauty in our own way.