相逢不觉又初寒。对尊前。惜流年。风紧离亭,冰结泪珠圆。雪意留君君不住,从此去,少清欢。
转头山下转头看。路漫漫。玉花翻。银海光宽,何处是超然。知道故人相念否,携翠袖,倚朱阑。

愿我如星君如月,夜夜流光相皎洁。

曾经春衫薄,曾经冬衣厚。
曾经加餐饭,曾经恩情绝。

sing with me a tiny autumn song, weep me melodies of the days gone by. dress my body all in flowers white, so no mortal eye can see. if you find me crying in the dark, please call my name from the heart.

汴水流,泗水流,流到瓜洲古渡头。

至今也觉得是最好的一句描写“思念”的诗。

我心匪石,不可转也。

Do you have any idea what it's like to be in love with someone...who's about to marry someone else? Someone totally magnificent, someone who walks into a room and lights it up like the sun? Someone who you know is lying to herself? I loved you the very first moment I saw you.

皓雪琼枝殊异色,北方绝代徒倾国。

至珍至敬至慕,至望而却步。

我相信你的爱,就让这句话成为我最后的话。

We have forgotten what it means “to be”. Being-in-the-world is not at all like the spatial “in” of “the water in the glass”, but more like the “in” of “being in love”. To exist is to be involved in the world, immersed in the world: an experience of non-separateness.

很可能有一天,我们必须从日常性中退出,必须退到诗的力量中去,然后再也不会像我们离开时那个样子回到日常生活中去了。

 
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