By Quintus
Who walked away from whose youth, left a smile? Who stayed in whose flower season, flooded with thoughts? Who disappeared from whose rainy season and warmed the mist? When I knock down these words on the road, my youth has quietly slipped away.
When looked back upon, more than a thousand days and nights drift past. Once I tried to seize the past, but it drifted away from me. When I walked from the village to the high-rise buildings, roadside flowers still bloomed, showing the world their elegant demeanor. This began my youth. Then year after year, day after day, spring to autumn, cold to warm spun by. Life steeled me and forced me to grow up.
I don’t remember how many times tears ran. Efforts failed again and again. Whose youth is not in the growth of blood and tears? Despite numerous struggles, I insist–one’s life cannot go on in weakness.
Don’t waste time. It is not only youth that has withered. Infinite scenery can be viewed in the mountains. The road to knowledge is plain. Only those who are not afraid of difficulty can climb to the top, appreciate the beautiful scenery, enjoy that the world is getting smaller. There is no hesitation in youth. In June, looking forward to the arrival of a drizzle, washing my vanity of youth to feel the sky after a storm. If the night is not long, how can the stars be so bright; if there is no suffering, how can youth grow strong in power.
Unconsciously, my youth is drifting away. The time of junior high school has been out of my memory. Times are ruthless; friends are precious. We accompanied each other. As long as you remember each other, it’s beautiful!
Past years were our youth. In the dusty world, our secrets were hidden almost in each corner. What a gorgeous funeral of youth. At some point, someone will silently pray for you. Youth can be wasted at will. But youth cannot come back. Nobody can help you suffer the pain of regret. You can heal yourself. You must admit that because of your waste, your youth was lost. You should hold tight to never give up, learn to be strong. Be not afraid of the future. We are all the same. Keep those fresh memories; youth is never out of date. Youth is not only restless, capricious, lonely, confused, but also childlike, innocent, good, and lovely. Spring has gone; we cry for youth in the drizzle, but it has been like a gust of wind, gone without a trace.
Youth is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions. Even if time is in a hurry, and the troubled world steps into a war, youth cannot be stopped.
Countless days and nights I dreamed to return to the middle-school classroom. Listening to the teacher rubbing chalk on the blackboard. Seeing love letters passed between students. Smelling the fragrance of Osmanthus in full bloom outside the window. Everything is so beautiful. I think I know now more about the charm of youth than I did…. Even at that time, there were many regrets, but I did not feel regret, because I dreamed of dreams…
Dreamer Editor: Doreen Yuan
“Youth is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions. Even if time is in a hurry, and the troubled world steps into a war, youth cannot be stopped.”
Beautiful and true.