Jinshi Year Lantern Festival Eve
On the eve of the Lantern Festival in the year of Jinshi, there would be no imagery from Yue Fei's pen,and 'it scatters, like falling stars, fragrant horses and carved carriages fill the road',a sudden and unexpected virus brought a lockdown,this vocabulary has reached its peak, countless people were isolated in the city,isolated, isolated by family, isolated by the world, isolated by death,I could only isolate myself through the window, and the courtyard,that large red lantern looked at me with my lonely gaze,its lonely figure, using last night's dreams, transformed into,that lantern that accompanied my father's passing to heaven, its shadow,snow covered, as if it had been scratched by pathogens, vanished completely,the range of vision of the back figure, silent and empty, no one,could ever step out the door again, repeating the trajectory of last year's festival,in the distance, the riverbank no longer carried the song of 'the fifteenth moon shining on my hometown',but no matter how thick the barriers could block viruses,they couldn't block longing, couldn't block the footsteps of reunion,they couldn't block the yearning for blood, a bowl of,pearl dumplings, shimmering with the moonlight that had recited for a thousand years,burying the bitterness, using sweet yearning for the future,sending the concentrated thoughts to distant relatives, sending to,those warriors and angels in Wuhan who were fighting against the new virus,today's wind should hide the icy chill like wheat stalks,release the warmth of spring, become a red rose's blessing,on my phone, the blessings of the Lantern Festival were displayed in a myriad of forms,brilliant and diverse, warming the closed body, warming the lonely spirit, warming the wish for life on the hospital bed,tonight is destined to be a night of lingering thoughts,one by one, flickering paper lanterns swayed before my eyes,it was made by my father, with a flickering orange flame,it was the most beautiful memory of the Lantern Festival, dazzling,childhood years made laughter more innocent, romantic and unrestrained,I wanted to use words to ignite a heart lamp, to send to,distant relatives, but I felt that the pen was so heavy, and emotions were so difficult to express,the Lantern Festival's smoke, frozen across the river,not spreading, not colliding with my scabbed chest, some stories, some memories, could only be buried, could not be written and rendered by the pen,I wanted to keep them in my heart, no longer open the window, no longer dry them, no longer let butterflies fly in, just wait for the moonlight of the Lantern Festival to awaken and illuminate it,
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