Leisure talk: Under the starry night

At that moment, the city suddenly became quiet, I thought I could hear my heart beating dreamily. The darkness blended with the colored lights falling on the street, casting a dreamy yellow shadow. I walked on the deserted streets, where the old roofs and windows were dimly lit. On the long road, the trees were quiet in the dark corners. And the face of the night reflected the melancholy, quiet river. The wind from the river blew gently, blowing the last dry yellow leaves of the day onto the deserted sidewalk.

Different from the hustle and bustle of the morning, it seems that when night falls, the scene returns to itself, pensive like a philosopher. The soul of a sentimental person seems to have a chance to let go, drifting into a wave of nostalgia. Suddenly, in the silence, a hoarse cough came from the next room of a young man. The room lit up at the window as he sat at the writing desk. He must be fumbling to kindle the flame of poetry, as if wanting to dispel the already sad darkness here. I looked towards the cramped room, after the afternoon tea with him earlier. He only knew that I was a bookworm, staying in a rented room because I worked far from home and was a bit lazy to communicate. I usually returned late in the afternoon. Then quickly moved on the old iron railing. As if not wanting anyone to know my presence. He was still clumsy in writing, but harbored great ambitions. As for me, I currently just want to be friends with privacy. Reading books is like talking to myself, to see through my thoughts and be happy with just enough things. Then the sound of the flip-flops of the girl carrying a basket of roasted sweet potatoes to sell all over the city suddenly returned in the middle of the night... The faint sound of the last vehicles of the day and the boats appearing and disappearing, drifting slowly along the river. From dusk to dawn, the night is sometimes as long as a lifetime...

And from then on, I became a person who was infatuated with the darkness. Where there are moonflowers that only bloom at night, with a dreamy and pure fragrance. The flowers shine brightly in the middle of the night, reminding me of the small, enchanting stars, like a nebula. That is when suddenly, in the hidden corner of a small path, a pair of fluttering moth wings appear, following the footsteps drifting in a deep dream... And when facing the darkness, I suddenly recognize myself, recognize the light that shines on my soul with the consciousness of a tender, vague beauty.

The gentle morning when quietly watching the river flow slowly in the distance. When the color of the water and the color of time are as thick as fine mist and gentle under the new moon. The darkness spreads out like streaks of black oil, split into small, sparse strands, as fanciful as someone's hair, fascinated by the jet-black color in the undulating darkness. Suddenly, somewhere vaguely, I hear a light breath behind me. The sound of footsteps at the corner of the road in the dark mist...

Night falls, following the old voices. The old sounds are like the sound of leaves falling on the porch. As if the night has begun from there: the eternal loneliness of man. When many long days have passed, suddenly alone and quiet before the deep night. When sitting quietly in the night, watching the silvery light blend with the color of time and the gentle breeze suddenly blowing gently. As if clearly hearing the pulse still beating day and night - a bit of peace and the desire for love in one's heart...

Someone said that when we grow up, everything around us gradually becomes cold and vague. I realize that my own time is getting less and less. Life silently takes us to different places ahead. Suddenly one day we will silently thank life for giving us day, night, future and past. A moment to find peace, to accept each joy and sadness.

… To quietly watch, under the starry night.

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nhan-dam-duoi-anh-sao-dem-185250503163952749.htm