Ideals and aspirations

     I once had an ideal: to earn half a day of leisure, then sit on a quiet lawn or under the shade of a tree, with a good book and a cup of tea, letting my thoughts roam among the words, letting my soul turn the pages. When I came across a particularly interesting passage, I would sip the tea, letting its bitterness linger on my lips and its sweetness permeate my throat, letting my soul awaken in the tea and my mind be intoxicated by the book. Or, when I came across a sorrowful passage, I would look up at the blue sky, letting my emotions drift with the white clouds and my thoughts flow with the gentle breeze. Let humanity be influenced by heaven and earth, let life be forged in nature.

    The sails of ideals are like poems, singing in the passage of time; like paintings, flourishing among mountains and rivers; like stars, shining in the night sky; like dew, carrying fragrance among flowers and grasses. The journey of life has no rest stops where one can stop at will; the sails of life are destined to bravely forge ahead along the course of daily necessities.

    I've loved the tender green of spring, adored the vibrant red of summer, grieved over the fallen leaves of late autumn, and weathered the frost and snow of winter. Life, in the cycle of the seasons, has honed its edges, sung sorrows in the rainy season, felt melancholy in the moonlit night, and longed for dawn. Youth, in the changing of the sun and moon, leaves behind a trail of melodious songs.

    Unfolding memories, gazing at the long river of time, I've seen many sails of ideals unfurled, and countless naive wishes sink. Now, what floats is a heart full of tranquility. Along the riverbank, I plant a wish, letting time water it; perhaps it won't grow into a beautiful landscape, but it will surely become a lush green shade.

    I reserve a pure land for my heart, seek a secluded path for my emotions, leave my joys and sorrows on paper, and walk openly with the wind and rain. I hold my pen straight, forging a lifelong bond with ink, engaging in leisurely conversation amidst the dust of the world. Let ideals have no end, let the heart have desires. I grind the vicissitudes into pieces of experience, and comb through the lines of my heart on life's journey. Open the mirror, let your face, inside and out, meet each other honestly.

    Losing youthful black hair, winning gray, let your heart's secrets be cooked, let your kindness be displayed, let the branches of life withstand the swaying of time. The landscape of memory often opens, but the gates of emotion still lock away its fragrance.

    Another ideal must set sail, bravely following the river of time. Time allows emotions to wander, the lake of the heart opens for sincerity, let life stroll slowly amidst green hills and clear waters, let the soul relinquish all extravagant desires, easily roam between heaven and earth, walking uprightly on the path of humanity.

    Offering love bit by bit, suddenly feeling how warm the world is, why should there be a wall between people? Enjoy the gentle breeze and bright moon, spontaneously praise the birdsong and fragrant flowers, make a wish; let benevolence and righteousness last until the end of time.