诗酒趁年华（Poetry wine in the early years）.doc

诗酒趁年华（Poetry wine in the early years） Poetry is in the early years. This is the 22nd birthday of your rebirth. Ill see you. I always wanted to write something about you, but I was afraid that the writing would not be enough. In fact, the writing force is still not enough, but the situation is difficult to incontinence. It was from 13 December last year. The night turns your verse, a song or cry, you say you are alone, like long ago, Mars shone in thirteen states. I was staring out of the window at the sinking moon. The cell phone calendar shows that Saturday, March 26, will be Saturday. So the train from hangzhou to hefei was at 11:43 p.m. on the 24th. On the morning of the twenty-fifth, turn back to anqing. On the 26th day of the morning, about seven or eight o clock in the morning, I took advantage of the dawn, and brought a little dust, two pear flowers, a pot of old wine, a volume of poems, to your old house. The pear flower is folded in the road. From the place where I grew up to your hometown, but thirty kilometers away, the partition is life and death. The spring and jingming, the traffic, the dust, the field, the house, often can see the peach branches of the light powder and the golden cauliflower. Until you come to your village, there is an eye in the eye. It was a pear tree planted in front of a family. I called the driver to stop and ran to ask the host for two. I dont know what kind of flowers you like. Just instinctively unwilling to take the chrysanthemum, lily from the flower shop to visit you. In your poem, you can often see the words flower, but seldom mention the exact flowers, only vaguely remember, you once mentioned the pear flower in the two poems. I have always loved the white flowers of pear flower. The wine was given by the father. Small bottles of two or two years old well, neatly wrapped. Not for the sake of sake, but rather, every time you think of your story of changing wine with poetry, you feel bitter. At changpings little restaurant,