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Thoughts in the Spring
Every time when I set pen to paper, I would feel preoccupied and completely at a loss to define my feelings accurately. The beauty lying beyond the universe or buried inside my heart is unutterable, while words and expressions, within my poor reach, are so delimited that I am always discouraged at the beginning of a new paragraph. Every so often, I appreciate the born faculty to see and to think. However, when given the chance to ponder on what I have observed and write them down, I would become unforgivably idle, letting them slip through my fingers gratuitously.
This article, as it was initially required, has to center upon spring or something relevent. How many times that my heart has cried out to beg your pardon for my failure to finish it earlier! For me, it is not much of a burden; all I have to do is to post this essay before the deadline. The thing is, though it would be embarrassing to admit it, that what holds me back is just the lack of an insight into the profound meaning of life, the absence of a keenness of appreciation.
Such thoughts lingered over my mind without being transformed into a driving force. When the afternoon sun, with its unparalleled power, penetrates the leaves and shines down on my upturned face, I, too, will have something aroused in me. No matter what this something is or how amazing it may appear, it
is evidently neglected. I have no clue from what time on this indifference has
developed, for since long ago I have had such a listless attitude toward life.
It is certainty that the time a human being can enjoy is not infinite, however,
like most of the others, I merely take it as of right and picture death as far
in the future. This may account for the laziness which prevents me from being
appreciative of the hundreds of thousands of things worthy of note.
Now and again, spring is associated with vigor and youth. For no reason at all,
I feel myself not eligible to give it any description. I have spent my every
waking minute dealing with those messy daily affairs, giving little attention to
the mellow sweetness of the beautiful scenery surrounding me. Urged to
understand what should be done, I was all but blindfold and separated from the
thrilling outside world.
The pageant of
season is an unending drama permeated by passion and excitement. My only wish is
to create some enthusiasm for myself in the impending summer, with the hope of
cheering up and awaiting the blessing of the lord.
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