Put a mirror flower and collect a round of water and the moon flying in a curtain of dreams. When you wake up from the dream, you fall in the rain and surrender to the dream. ---Inscription
The rain in the night penetrates the loneliness in the soul, and carries the faint lovesickness to your chest across the bank. A drizzle last night opened my silent heart, like a rose blooming in the rain, dripping with beauty, just like your bright smile. Tonight, the sound of rain falls from the sky again, with graceful and light steps, like a warm and blooming smile, coming to my arms. I sigh softly as I brush my clothes, and the ethereal night falls in my heart from afar. Fragments of time are surging in the palm, extending all kinds of tenderness under the neon lights. The mottled longing has never had any gaps, just because the deep love is eternal and will never tire.
A love that is not stained by dust becomes even more pure and transcendent in the silver rain. Love, so precious, brilliant, love, so heart-warming, loving. The obsession of a lifetime is lingering on the fingertips, and the rain is sad. Even the window sill is inlaid with sadness. The sail that carries endless thoughts over thousands of times is doomed to this side and the other side in this destiny.
I will look for you in this rainy season when flowers are falling, across thousands of mountains and rivers, let the tears of longing burst out, and let love lock the heavy door of lovesickness. "When the ends of the earth are limited, there is only endless love." In the cool autumn, I watched the long shadows of wild geese returning south. Write down your countless thoughts, wander among the clouds and water, and walk all over the rivers, just to trace your footprints. Waiting for you, missing you, and looking for you are the most beautiful legends left in life. Looking back again, the scenery has gone far away, the maple leaves are dyed red with the autumn language, and the love is burned out like fire. The mountains are far away, the sky is high, the smoke is cold, and the maple leaves are red with love. There is a kind of love that goes through the four seasons, time and space, silently protecting you.
Deep in the clouds and mist, lingering and dependent on each other, looking for the traces of flowers blooming and falling, waiting for you, looking for you, missing you. It is the beauty outlined in the picture scroll, and the foreshadowing of tenderness at the bottom of the note of love. We depend on each other forever, and our thoughts depend on each other. The mountains are long, the water is far away, and I remember you in dreams. The glitz and glamor of this world disappears like smoke. There is no need to mention the past again. I will keep you, wait for you, and miss you in this life. Even if I sing all my sorrows about separation, I will never let you down.
On a quiet rainy night, make a cup of tea, enjoy the smoke and enjoy the long love on the other side. Whose house is melancholy with a few fishing fires stationed there? Thoughts are falling, and a clear poem is like an attentive bird, sending my thoughts far away. Years are stranded, and the butterflies that cannot be waved away are lingering in my heart. The boat swayed slightly in the sea of ????heart, and the thin faces looked at each other with tears on their faces. The longing is quietly left on the fingertips, and the wild geese on the Jianjia water bank are crossing the pond again. I have been confused all my life, and I have been intoxicated by the dream of my hometown for three lifetimes. Who threw the flames of love in my dream? After I wake up from the dream, I cannot keep the heart-warming past.
Unable to grasp the thread of love, my eyes are full of hesitation, and my endless infatuated words turn into deep sadness. Who collects the tenderness of yesterday, who sings the graceful sentiments, who salvages the beautiful silhouette, and who pursues the fading time. The folded letter paper with fine print, the story of dependence, and the helpless lovesickness are scattered in the hometown of the heart. The wind is gentle, but it can't blow away the dreams in my heart. My love wanders with the wind. When spring goes and autumn comes, I can enjoy endless beautiful scenery. The maples are fluttering and the chrysanthemums are turning yellow. Cut off the west window, Yan returns to his hometown to look for old dreams, drunkenly writes and expresses new words, where are your traces?
I still remember that time, you said, you are the kite and I am the string. Now the string is broken and the kite is far away. Where have you gone? Love is left in the heart and turns into boundless mountains and rivers. Talking about the love of three generations, why does the kite break its string? You can swim comfortably and enjoy yourself alone. The string is in your hand, so why does the kite rest on the railing? The back is far away, and the heart is filled with resentment. The heart is a harp, love is a string, the music of the heart is still there, and the sorrow of the heart cannot play out the lingering feeling under the moon. The heart is far away, look at the sky up close, the kite is the moon in the sky, the moonlight is scattering graupel, the shadow that can't escape, the obsession that can't be let go.
You said that you are a kite and I am a thread. Time is a long and cold fate. You flew to the corner of the world and I watched the horizon. The tears are so wet that it is difficult to keep the front edge, the time is in the stream, and I don't rely on the fence, and the little green lotus is planted in my heart.
The night is dim and moonless, and my heart is like a dandelion flying in the air, drifting away with the wind, without direction. There is no purpose, chaotic thoughts, penetrating the dark night, but I feel more and more lonely. In a cup of tea, with the fragrance of tea, there are layers of coolness dripping from the eyes. The tired street lamp emits a stubborn light, the time that flows away takes away the lingering stories, and the long hair that is cut short will grow to waist length again. The beauty that has flowed through time, now only the memory planted in the bone marrow, still bumps and climbs every day.
Drunk in the autumn wind, feeling lovesick at night, I can’t forget my first acquaintance, a tacit understanding, a joy of congenial words, the wind and shadow whirling, can’t take away the watch of the soul. The flowers are blooming and falling, the chrysanthemums are golden, deep in the secluded bamboo, dripping green eyes. The memories of the past are archived in my mind and cannot be deleted. No matter how desolate the green hills are, whose fragrance is captured in the tenderness of spring flowers. The faint thoughts are stranded in the corner of the years, and the leaves have turned yellow, withered, and fallen. In the lost eyes, there is a clear encounter, cutting off the fleeting time in the dream, it turns out that time never stops and shows mercy. A kite with its string broken, its direction broken, the end of the world, the end of the sea. Tonight, in the sound of dripping rain, whose fingertips broke the lovesickness on the strings of the piano, and deep in the sea of ??ink, who wrote the words of lovesickness into a thin moon in the bottom of my heart, where the red tears faded, only Can this deep feeling be edited into fragments of faint lovesickness.
Thoughts are gentle, love is fleeting, flowers fall and flowers fly, the deep affection in love, the desolate night, crush a drop of missing tears. "My temples are pitifully green, just because I miss my old age." Crossing the ferry of time, sailing to the other side of the moonlight of love. Staring at the horizon, missing the glazed night, is it filled with nostalgia for the alluring moonlight? I miss the graceful curve of your mouth when we first met. Love is a silent language, no fancy words are needed, as long as I am here and you are here, our affection is there. Maybe time will take away some instability, but every inch of time is still full of deep infatuation.
Guard a person, guard a city, in a life of wind, frost, snow and rain, as long as the true love never deteriorates, life after life, no matter the four seasons reincarnate, a love will stay on this shore and the other shore. In autumn, a curtain of misty rain is drunk with the lingering soft words of a season. Look, the autumn rains are flying from the sky, bringing countless smiles. Threads and threads, curling up and down, my soft body beating with the agile beauty of autumn. I am standing in the autumn water town, waiting for you to come, take my soft hand, and go to the gentle autumn rain.
At the moment when the fallen leaves are flying, I am waiting for you, waiting for you to use my most affectionate period with my warmest love to carve the joy and romance of our poem. In this life, if you don't leave me, I won't abandon you. I am willing to fall into your water-like city of tenderness all my life, guarding our everlasting love. Even if the sea withers away and the rocks rot, our love will still be strong and beautiful. Looking at the autumn from the window, with affectionate eyes, on the quiet autumn rainy road, I will write you a beautiful poem, as smart as the rain and as beautiful as your mind. I only wish that I have you in my life. No matter how many winds and rains I go through, you are my little poem that brings prosperity to the end. You quietly outline the beauty of life in my heart.
Cut out a period of time, get rid of sadness, bring sunshine, and treasure all the true feelings. Waiting for you on the side of the water, in the green grass, in the coming and going of autumn and summer, watching your love with piety. Even if I forget the appearance of spring, summer, autumn and winter, I can’t forget my deep infatuation for you, and I treasure you in my little heart. My heart is so big and yet so small. Even though it can hold as much beauty as the ocean in the world, it can only keep loving you madly and stay with you forever. When we first met, that year on the worldly road, you passed through my eyes and bloomed like a flower. Intoxicating, unforgettable, and unforgettable, the love was boundless and became endless loneliness. Is that the rosemary of love?
Perhaps the silent blossoming and falling of flowers is the most affectionate companionship, and the fragrance of writing is the most beautiful beauty. Life is like a song, write about a stranger's romance, the meeting is fate, cherish you and me, the tenderness is like water, and the paper is filled with fragrance. The color of a peach blossom tree is dyed with the brightness of spring, the tranquility of a pond of lotus, the lingering feeling of cool summer, a song of mountain water, a pot of charming autumn moon, and the face of a snowflake warm the cold winter. The lingering longing, the companionship in the world of mortals day and night, relying on Loulan alone, the clear twenty-four strings, reminiscing someone's fleeting time, and making someone's past crazy. On the bluestone in the lonely alley, there is a flower waiting for love, waiting for you to meet it from spring to winter.
When the moon sets and the crow crows, have you ever understood that the frost-covered sky is the attachment of love, traveling through the landscape of love. Tenderness is like water, lingering, the crescent moon is curved, time is thinning, who is full of longing? "The red bean is placed on the exquisite dice, and I miss you deeply." In the green Qi's arms, the strings are played lightly, the words in the heart are fragrant, the heart is melodious, the flowers fall, the nostalgia of the world, the Zen heart across the sky, the blue sea and the sky, the thoughts are lingering, and the love flows. , meeting you is a lifelong obsession. If this encounter is destined to be a fleeting moment, a flash in the pan, then let it bring this emotion to its fullest, to the last touch of beauty in your heart.