张廷美
"Seeing the words is like meeting"
I came here full of expectations.
What kind of building is that?
I looked up, shocked by its majesty
As a result, loose-leaf sheets filled the sky.
I stepped on dead leaves all over the ground and entered the virgin forest in a trance.
The solemnity there made me full of fear,
In the empty church,
Yin,
Resounding in the dome.
The afterglow of the evening shines through the eclipse and shines obliquely on my face,
I took it for granted that I had passed the verification of this ancient house.
I also contracted this century-old loneliness,
What is shaking in my heart?
That is my reverence for cultural relics.
I stroked the withered bookshelf, wiped my fingertips with the silk, and danced on the slips. I felt the crisp sound, which was at the same frequency as my heartbeat.
That fragrant and elegant air is the gift after the opening of the book.
Thousands of years of culture, in the ancient characters, transformed into the spirit of a pelican and bowed deeply to me. I have traveled through thousands of years, experienced the gentle breath of fragrance, and looked at its ears with a trance with a smile.
With a flash of grace, the withered breath lingered on my nose. The books covering my face did not follow the timing of clothes. It was today's season of fallen leaves.
I came here full of expectations.
What kind of building is that?
I looked up, shocked by its majesty
As a result, loose-leaf sheets filled the sky.
I stepped on dead leaves all over the ground and entered the virgin forest in a trance.
The solemnity there made me full of fear,
In the empty church,
Yin,
Resounding in the dome.
The afterglow of the evening shines through the eclipse and shines obliquely on my face,
I took it for granted that I had passed the verification of this ancient house.
I also contracted this century-old loneliness,
What is shaking in my heart?
That is my reverence for cultural relics.
I stroked the withered bookshelf, wiped my fingertips with the silk, and danced on the slips. I felt the crisp sound, which was at the same frequency as my heartbeat.
That fragrant and elegant air is the gift after the opening of the book.
Thousands of years of culture, in the ancient characters, transformed into the spirit of a pelican and bowed deeply to me. I have traveled through thousands of years, experienced the gentle breath of fragrance, and looked at its ears with a trance with a smile.
With a flash of grace, the withered breath lingered on my nose. The books covering my face did not follow the timing of clothes. It was today's season of fallen leaves.
2025-08-30
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