A drop of tears on the way home

zhaojun, of the four great beautys of chinese classical history, is the most tragic fate.

the han family palace was marooned by the artist ' s ulterior motives, and the ancient doo-si-si-si-si-si-li-li-li-li-li.

there was a rush to bring in a sheep-herding song, and another woman became a gift from a powerful man to pacify the troubled deserts thousands of miles away.

to conquer history with its own beauty, to calm the war, and in that time, as a small woman in a district, zhao was undoubtedly great and brought together the soul of an entire nation in tears.

wang zhao, famous and famous.

and it was made known by the zhu's zhu's zhu's zhu's zhu's zone.

he was chosen to join the palace in the year of the new year (33 b.c.) and the huns who sought peace in the people's republic of korea alone.

zhao volunteered to marry the huns, thus contributing to goodwill among nations.

after entering hungary, they are known as ninghumen (queen).

under her influence, her children and those around them tried to maintain a good relationship with han, to the point that “the police of the third world, without barking and the battle of the land, have no roots”.

zhaojun, a symbol of political tragedy.

wang zhao is one of the most classical women ever written by poets, painters, composers, and three other beautiful women, yet her fate is most tragic, perhaps because of this incriminating “shujun's grievances”? of course, history and the vision of the world are different, and history cannot be changed: history, zhao zhao, smiles at us, fully displays her understanding, and the image created in literature seems to be crying at us and not angry.

in ancient times, those who have not met and struggled in the public arena are more likely to find themselves, or be deep or shallow, in the “challenges of zhao” ...

it goes without saying that the word “challenges” in han culture is really at the heart of the aesthetic meaning of “the beauty of zhao king”.

the beauty of zhao is so cruel! beautiful limits.

so she went to the depths of the earth, a road that she could not return, and she walked for decades.

tens of days, in the dark of a lifetime, what is it? but that dozens of days in her life might be forever.

in history, zhao zhao set out her life template: to walk lonely between the sunwrecks, with awe.

this is the curve of her life.

"the eyes are short, the moon is dark." "the vastness of the earth is flat and empty." the natural environment itself is a form of suffering, and how can zhaojun's thin shoulder bear bear such suffering? destiny will never get away with it, and as soon as she stepped out of the way, she was doomed to go away.

“the sun is miles away and no one returns.

only the geese of the river fly south in the autumn." and the mighty man of zhao zhao zhao zhao zhao zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu zhu history cannot understand.

history has set her fate between entry and retreat at the limit of one ' s return.

wandering is a painful thing, a natural or man-made disaster, a war that will never escape and silent death.

in the long memories of the land, the acceptance and recognition of the individual's life is forever, and on the way out of the country, the wind and the wind, the sandHow small and desperate is the life of an individual under a wide and silent sky, and it will be overwhelmed by the dust of history.

How far is the way back! It's an inaccessible distance, making life illusory.

Can we go back? Han Lok, "The Rabbit comes out of the dogs, flies out of the beams, the mid-students go to the valley, and the wells go to the sun." "The meal is ripe, I don't know who I am, and I'm going out to look, and I'm crying!" What's the point when it turns into a bloody reality? It is often at this moment that the philosophy of life is easily discerned, and Zhaojun may have understood that she is only a symbol of history.

What else can she expect? In the Monument of the Monument, the Donddish poet Duf wrote: “The mountains go to the gate and the princess grows a village.

As soon as he went to the Twilight Plateau, he left a grave in the shadows.

It's not like I'm in love with you.

It's a charade of hate." The beauty of Zhaojun lies in the appearance of a dead fish, which is even more so.

And Zhao Zhao's grievance is one of undesired ills of fate — locked in the deep palace, she desires to live like an ordinary woman, to have a happy love and to enjoy the joy of the earth, and she can only marry another nation in her place of royal blood, in exchange for peace with love of life, and to think of the earth, but she cannot return.

No two people in the world are on the same path to return, but that process and ritual have a qualitative proximity, condensed into an indestructible symbol.

The details of life can be omitted in the face of the great indifferentness and the sand.

Desperate hopelessness, pain and suffering, and the path to return can only be extended forever, with a drop of tears splattering at the threshold of history.

In the dreams of his return, Zhao Zhao went to the court numerous times, and after her death, she turned all her pain into hope, but history was ultimately history, and no one had the possibility of changing it.

At the end of the day, she got a piece of paper: from the klutz.

Too much pain has been played on Zhaojun's stage, and this time she has been crucified into an extremely sad screen and continues to play an endless tragedy.

At that time, her tears were dryed up in the dust and wind, and she was born with the ancient silence.

Hero Han died, and the Emperor ordered her to be “from the customs” and to marry again (the eldest son).

Let's leave the ethics behind and let history remain silent! I don't think any more singing will make history music feel like music。