Chapter 8 yellow river sunset

It is a ray of breeze that outlines the coolness of the evening, the green reeds are shaking and rustling, shaking off a little green of early summer and the warm sunset glow, and the slightly curved leaves gently touch the golden strings above the shallow water of the Yellow River. At this moment behind me is the blue and undulating tide In the Bohai Sea, the warm current of the western Pacific crosses the seasonal defense line and approaches the east coast of North China. A round ancient copper-colored sun sinks on the vast river beach in the upper reaches of the Yellow River, splashing a river of golden waves.

Standing in the Yellow River, my orange thoughts flowed over the square array of wheat ears on the river beach, soybeans sprouted new leaves on the river embankment, and river willows were dark green, painting the artistic conception of the Yellow River flying freehand.The soft mud under my feet is like a portrait of the tenderness of the years, the shepherd boy raised his whip and dropped a bunch of snipe cries, and the song of the breeze was carried on the butterfly wings-the longing that rose from the bottom of my heart at this time was suspended in the eternal desolation above the Yellow River.I can't put it into words, my eyes are full of water, my love is infatuated, the ebb and flow of the long time, the direction of my love is the eternal sunshine.

How many long-awaited days have passed, the idea of ​​walking the Yellow River, starting from the mouth of the river is closely related to the secret desire of my heart, standing in the vast Yellow River delta painted with rose colors, let the river wind sway, let the days be full of slightly sweet The grains of sand allow fish to travel in the space they yearn for, and the proposition that freezes for a moment erodes the past when the tide ebbs and flows, perhaps the first moon is like a watermark, and after a century sheds away, the torrential tide lays down as a new shell at the mouth of the river, spreading its wings in shock , the setting sun is like blood, in the anticipation of healing, full of horror, begging for that flaming last peerless kiss-the setting sun sinks!The sunset glow it splashes, the wings of my thoughts flutter on the light of the Yellow River.Touch a river with life, inquire about the eternal new melody, and walk through the immortal years.I am now in the waves of the river, or on the arms of the river, in the endless waves of the heart, on the endless plains of the delta.

I was walking on the grassy beach of the Yellow River, and a grasshopper jumped on the blade of grass.Fragments of water splash or bloom as the river cuts its mud banks. It is a land of birth.Time is not a sigh, the water passes without waves, the solemn color blocks pass, the river bed stretches, the land is wide and the sky is round, the brilliance of the setting sun spreads all over the universe, staring at the brilliant direction for a long time, silent like a tree.Also, there are more misses than leaves.At this moment, Wei Qing's hair has been shaved off, and a sky of stars stands on top of her bald head.The only Big Dipper, life exists in the process of passing away, blood is hot, and the sand cut by the river water is like a broken string.That concern went straight to Bayan Hara, about to reach the sky, rushing towards like vast water, I stroked my chest, concentrated my fingertips, and asked carefully how much the history of history flowed, and your hidden fingerprints.The mark of time is defined by the running posture of the big river. At the turn of the century, I treasured a handful of river sand, which is the place where the fish of life swim.

Imagination is stripped away again, the setting sun is approaching the Yellow River, the words are lame tadpoles, and in the river bed where the mast is salvaged, I envision becoming a boatman on the Yellow River, so that I can shuttle on the Yellow River forever, point my thoughts to the sea, and read in the painful days. The heart wave of the big river, set sail when looking back-if the waiting time is to pass through the Ice Age, from the spore plants to germinate green leaves or flowers, and 10,000 years is not too long.The glory of a nation is where the sun rises.In the wind where ginkgo grows, on my magnificent shoulders.

What can be immortal?I came to inquire about the Yellow River, and I held up a heart-shaped pebble deposited on the river beach. It was made of quartz, with clear veins and a trace of blood, but there were still traces of water——the process of growth, the honest fragrance in the ears of wheat, the heart is like The soybean breaks away from the pod, the leaping grasshopper spreads its wings and reveals the gauze skirt of its bright wings. Only the river can flow endlessly, only the holiness is like love, and only the eternal tamarisk in the Yellow River Delta. Turn around and walk slowly on the sandy beach of the Yellow River. The tepid sun allows me to shine for the last time. I will travel through the starry sky in the future. The dawn moon bends like your new eyebrows. It leads me to the great water of passion, or In the flood season of August, time is redecorated, the sun is like fire, the water is rushing, and the eternal fishing fire shines on the Bohai Sea. The posture of fighting is facing the huge waves of the sea.

It is in the grand afterglow, starting from the remaining days of my life, in the direction of the Yellow River and the hint of its rush, give me love, give me the excitement of running thousands of miles, build me, let me run on the river, let me My wings are regenerated because of you—the inflorescence of dandelion rises in the evening wind, the cricket walks out of the sandy castle, the smoke from the kitchen in the distant village blows the blue evening sky, and the Yellow River with its nine bends descends from the place where the white clouds were born?Flowing across the plateau on my chest, I am already burning, leaning over the Yellow River in longing, the light sand of the river dances with the wind, the pyrite is as colorful and bright as gold, I want to shout here silently, or whisper Nan, a person can cross a river in his life, I am on this side, you are on the other side.

Already immersed in time, the starting path is on the black menu. In fact, all the repertoires have been arranged by the wind. Only the setting sun is a kind of chance. It is like the free running of the river, like the natural meeting of the river, Like the sun rising from the river and setting towards the vast river, it is like water resolutely choosing the future - I would like to lie in the arms of the river forever, and I would like to listen to the river's whispers or whistling waves forever.Walk towards the Yellow River, follow the footsteps of the river, and stare at the lamp of youth on the source of the great river without looking back.

The setting sun sinks towards the Yellow River, gradually embracing the water, gradually melting the glorious time.