Zuiyue Lake at National Taiwan University records a story about a sleepy woman who threw herself into the water.I think that affection is a tragedy that must be read with death.And this death is also the purest.I am a weakling, I have enjoyed tragedy and I have acted it, but I abscond in the last scene. People are alive, but enthusiasm is dead.So I wrote down the water to ask.Remember that woman and mourn yourself. The rhododendrons of that year have turned into the spring mud of the next year. Why, why is your lake still green today? The personnel and affairs of that year have been scattered into the dust of the world, why, why is your spring girl still young every year?

Is it because the willow smoke is so dense that you can't find the door of spring? Is it that the railings are too vertical and horizontal, and you can't dive into the weeping swamp? Is there no dike or bridge in the lake, and you can't swim to the fragrant grass bank? There are too many legends, and they are too rough: they say that you are just a lonely woman who used to be in the flower city, and that she was inadvertently drowned in the broken veins of love, and that your slip was just an accident.It is said that someone saw you hovering on the edge of water and land at midnight, and shyly told strangers about your broken heart, saying that you traveled thousands of miles to fulfill the covenant of that person, but how can you travel thousands of miles?How can the order of day and night allow you to be easily embedded?You no longer belong to time and space, so you are suppressed in the middle of the lake, and you dare not to inquire about the world, the world you love.So you became a frozen specimen of a butterfly, marked in the illustration book as self-killing because of failure to court, and was circulated among gossips with lingering lips and teeth.

I want to ask you: The sky embraces the earth so gently, why don't you send today and wait for tomorrow? The earth is so generous to support all things, why don't you dig a hole and live in another family? The procedure of human marriage is so simple, why do you choose water alone as your final destination? Do you believe that there is a universe that arises for no reason at first and lasts until the universe that goes away for no reason is the last oath that makes you drift through the chaos of thousands of years, and that in this life, as a human being, you want to be in the world Looking for each other?Are you a stray goose, willing to live in the dust net of the world, fold your wings and collect its feathers, looking for another lone goose that was scattered in the torrent and smoke a hundred years ago?How many springs and autumns have you walked through, how many feet of the world of mortals, you came to that person, even though the world cast him with mud, you still recognized that tired face is your soul and dream, that hoarse face The voice is just as crisp as you'd expect it to be.You can see your most original figure from his eyes, you know, that is the only identification between you.

Although the magpie bridge in the world is not as gorgeous as the heavenly court, you are willing to build it brick by brick. Although the climate in the world is not as clear as that of heaven, but you fly together with wings to share the storm that splits the earth and the sky. Although the food and drink in the world are not as good as the fine nectar and jade liquid in the heaven, but your food and drink are as sweet as sugar. The meaning of life is originally vague, and in the complicated dimensions of love, you are willing to highlight love as the palace in your heart.Thousands of years of marriage are the most solid foundation, trust and respect are the immortal steel frame, and deep love is your iron wall.Unswerving chastity is a roof that shelters from the wind and doors and windows that keep out the rain.People can only criticize such a mud house based on your voice and appearance.And you treat each other tenderly, and let people pursue their so-called wealth and beauty. In your noble personality garden, there are naturally four seasons of flowers, cool breeze and bright moon.Going here, going here for years, thousands of mountains and rivers, never parting, birth, old age, sickness and death, never abandoning each other.

Is it not that today's last quarter was once the fifteenth full moon? Is it true that the vast sea in front of you was once a boundless mulberry field? Is it that what comes from life will end in death, and what is obsessed with love will eventually become hatred? Is it true that when spring comes, spring will fade away, and when love gets deep, love will turn thin? The oath you firmly believe in is the incomplete catkins in April.The memory you recall is a place of punishment with thorns and hairs.You see your hands calloused and scabbed, and the magpie bridge in the world has been ruined.So you look at the vastness and want to ask the heaven and the earth to make a divination for you "forever and forever": the mountains and rivers are silent and meandering, saying this hexagram is not in the world, but only in the sky.You groaned, staggered to the bustling market to inquire, you said: "Excuse me, may I ask how to get back to my palace, the beginning of my love...?" The kind pedestrian shook his head, saying that there is no such a way Road, I have never heard of this direction... You think of wandering thousands of years ago. Looking forward to reuniting in this life, why can't we share wings? Why did the previous vows become short and fragmented? Wandering? Why can the earth and the sky last forever, but the love in the world is separated, reunited and scattered?

When the sun rises again, all the cuckoos wilt and thank you, and turn into Du Yu with a voice, calling you better, better to go back, you look up at today's sky, it seems to be the same as yesterday: you stretch out your hands Books, the same truth, the same typeface. But your palace is a thing of the past, and your love is a thing of the past. Return each type of truth to the thread-bound bookshelf, let the tears flow to Chunni, and put your whole body The post-mortem wind and rain, the middle of the lake in the middle of the night, the autumn insects chirping... When the sun rises again, all the voices of Du Yu call you, all the love in the world, you have returned with both hands.

Is the lake water like emerald, still your immortal tenderness, the tide rises in the dry season? Is it the lotus rhyme that fills the lake, is it your eloquent words, every word to remind you? Is it a cumbersome book, with a model that you can't bear to tear, a model of a mirage, a reminder to give another pair of notes. Is it the bright red of the rhododendrons every year, the color of love you inherited? When those pairs of footprints step on the spring mud of the flower mound, do you want them to keep in mind, gather and scatter in the world between the gestures of their feet, All should be treated with respect.

And guard the passive stream. The word love is not easy to write, I hope you can outline the wind pattern in the center of the lake, and draw a stroke. And let those who meet by chance draw their vows on the railing by the lake. And let the acquaintances use your fairy tale embroidery as their wedding veil. Let those who have been separated all the year round meet by chance. Let the resentful ones thaw out all the dust and sand, and let them know that gathering is a scoop of three thousand water, and scattering is hard to recover..... And tonight, let me crown you, the girl of Huacheng who was obsessed with love, the soul has returned.