We meet again, my dear friend, please don’t blame that time for changing a person’s appearance. We ourselves are the make-up artists. At dusk, I heard a song in a young night. It is as clear and lingering as the mountain wind blowing through the lilies, and I long for it again. But the sound is silent, there is no trace, and there is no place to come. The moonlight is refreshing on the skin, and in a dusk twenty years later, something is similar to that night, so that the melody comes gracefully. The mountains and valleys should hit my heart. Looking back on the path we have come, the green and horizontal green leaves, the ups and downs of this half life, turned into sweet tears in the twilight. The wish of the laurel tree. Why do I still love you? The sea has come up and overflowed the beach of my life, and then retreated so quickly. Roll up the youth and roll it away. Roll up the youth and scatter the stars all over the sky. The mountains are still the same and the trees are still the same. My feet are no longer the water flow of yesterday. The wind is clear and the clouds are clear. The lilies in the fields are scattered on the mountain top at dusk. Who turns into osmanthus under the moonlight? Trees can escape the longing of the night. Volume 3. The Wanderer's Song. I miss you and that summer afternoon. I miss you. Walking slowly from the depths of the forest is my smiling lotus. The Wanderer's Song is a drop in the wilderness of a foreign land. The melted snow of regret is thrown into the mountain streams and then into the streams, flowing through the plains and then across the great lakes. In exchange for the lonely years, in this frozen country for thousands of miles, I always think of the hibiscus blooming in the south. I think of the golden sunshine one afternoon after another. Why didn't I say the word in my heart to that girl with a round face and a smile when I wasted my youth? But today, I am a drop of melted snow of regret, turning into a Qianxun waterfall at the end of my wandering, torn apart by pain. There is a roar in my chest, calling from the south, my lost love, the lonely star. There is a lonely star in the sky. Travelers in the dark night always look back frequently, imagining that it was his first, first love. Jasmine. Jasmine seems to have no season in the day. At night, I always open a small fragrant bud, thinking of you. It seems that there is no difference between the day and the night. In every trance moment of youth, all the endings have been written, and all the tears have started, but suddenly I forget what it was like. In that ancient summer day that will never come back, no matter how I try to trace the young you, you are just passing by like a cloud shadow, and your smiling face is very shallow and gradually disappears in the crowd after sunset. Lan then opened the yellowed title page. Destiny had bound it extremely poorly. With tears in my eyes, I read it again and again, but I had to admit that youth is a book that is too hasty. Youth Part 2 suddenly thought of her at night when I was forty-five years old. The young eyes recalled the summer when she was sixteen years old, slowly walking towards him from the hillside. The sun outside the forest was dazzling, and her dress was so white. She also remembered the hills full of tea trees, the sky full of floating clouds, and the sky full of clouds. The sound of cicadas is heard in the silent and silent forest. Only because I always imagine that when it emerges from the illusion, it will have gorgeous wings and wait for you forever in this life, I am willing to be a lonely spring silkworm, looking forward to it in the golden cocoon. A promise of the afterlife. I miss you in the summer afternoon. I miss you on that summer afternoon. Walking slowly from the depths of the forest is my smiling lotus. The most tender part that is most susceptible to pain is my holiness. The most distant and untouchable years, I wish to be like the fate of Pompeii, melting all the most beautiful things in an instant with tears into an eternal mold, so that they can be embedded in your and my hearts over and over again for millions of years. Juan Silian's thoughts How can I be willing to meet you again? When only my youth still hidden deep in your heart is still as clear as water and as green as mountains. The thoughts of lotus, I am a blooming summer lotus. I hope you can see it now. The wind and frost have not yet come to erode the autumn rain, and the green season has left me. I am no longer worried or afraid. Now is the most beautiful moment. The heavy door has been locked behind the fragrant smile. Who knows me? Lotus's thoughts are not related to you. It's not that you came too early or that you were too late. It's not just the late spring that I let down. It's not just your and my faces that I forget. It's the dust that rushes towards my eyes. The dusty days and dusty nights are the dusty Chinese years and the autumn grass slowly recedes with lowered heads and eyebrows.
Silent song, wordless poem, Xiao Jing, I thought I had hidden you in such a deep and cold heart of the past. I thought that as long as I never mentioned it, as long as the days continued to pass, you would finally become an ancient person. My secret is that the sleepless nights are still too long, and my early gray hair betrays my sadness. When all my relatives feel that I am getting older day by day, when all my friends see the wind and frost on my hair, how can I be willing to meet you again? When only my youth that is still hidden deep in your heart is as clear as water and as green as mountains. If summer can return to the mountains, if God allows us to meet again, then let the leaves of the fern become greener and greener. The stream is running like jade. Nothing has happened yet, and there are no signs. The distant morning is a sketch with only a few inks. You emerge from the gray and crowded crowd and give me a shy smile. If I had known earlier, I would not have been able to do this. Forget you, I will no longer be careless. I will try my best to engrave the ancient summer day when we first met. Deeply and slowly, carve a complicated and exquisite copper plate. I will cherish every scratch. If I had known this, I would never be able to forget the rumors for the rest of my life. If All the wanderings are because of me. How can I not love your frosty face? If you have tasted all the misery in the world for me, how can I not love your haggard heart? They say you are old and hard as rock and extremely cold, but you are not. People know that I am still your deepest and softest corner with tears and untouchable choices. If I came to this world just to be with you once, just for that moment in billions of light years, all the sweetness and sorrow there. Let everything that should happen appear in an instant. I bow my head and thank all the planets for their help. Let me meet you. Farewell to you. Complete a poem written by God. Then slowly grow old. Volume 5. We meet again. I didn’t intend to miss it. But I have always been doing this. I missed the flower-filled yesterday, and I want to miss the reunion today. The lights are shining brightly, but you and I are both haggard. The moment we look at each other, who can hear the heart breaking? So many things have happened. Many nights have passed, and tonight there is only moonlight. Only the moonlight can be as beautiful as before. We can no longer go back, nor can we move forward. Dear friends, we have nothing in this life, and we have nothing to ask for. I just want to know how to embroider this moment. Embroider a dense picture page and embroider it into the hearts of both of us. Every stitch of sadness and pain meets again. On the windy and snowy road, in the moment of coma, before the boundary between life and death, there is only one thing in his heart. A regret, a regret that I would never be able to see her again in this life. On a warm spring night, between the fullness and space of a cup of coffee, he revealed this secret to her so coldly and calmly, but it added to her sorrow. After parting, sorrow will never be able to forget the image of the tree. The smile facing the wind is no longer fragrant. The gentle words have been silenced. The pupils of the stars are getting colder and darker, and the thousands of mountains and paths have lost all traces of me. It's just a lonely tree resisting the coming of autumn. It's a sad song. I won't see you again in this life. I just want to see you again. What you have is no longer the one in your heart. It will never reappear. What reappears is just the vicissitudes of the sun and the moon. Please don't believe in my beauty. Don't believe my love. Underneath the face covered with oil paint, I have the heart of an actor. So please don't take my sorrow seriously. Don't break your heart with my performance. My dear friend, in this life, I am just an actor forever. Shed your own tears in other people's stories to say goodbye. Please look at me again. Look back at me again in the wind and rain. Look back at my face tonight. Please remember this moment firmly. Just because after this moment, you and I will be together. It's so sad to be apart when we become strangers. In the unpredictable reunion in his year, I will never be able to say goodbye as beautifully as tonight. Not all dreams have time to come true. Not all words have time to tell you. Guilt and hatred are always there. To be deeply rooted in the heart after parting. Although they say that everything in the world will eventually come to nothing, I didn’t intend to miss it, but I have always done so.
If you miss the flower-filled yesterday, you will miss the same parting today. The rest of your life will be a stranger's journey. Thousands of miles away, I bow my head deeply to you in the dusk. Please cherish it for me, even though they say that everything in this world will eventually become an empty scroll. I know that one day all the joys and sorrows will leave me. I still try my best to collect those beautiful and entangled memories that are worthy of living for her. The bleeding wounds always have the hope of reconciliation and will always be in my heart. What refuses to heal is the bloodless wound. Passionate love should laugh at me. I was born early in the millennium. Isn’t it just my hair? The years have cast a dragnet. It is your pain and my sorrow that cannot be escaped. Untitled Love is originally for getting together, for no more Separation If there is a kind of love, we can never see each other, we can never speak, we can never think of it again. It is like a fire that can never be ignited. Staring alone at the dark sky. Artwork is an immortal memory, an effort that refuses to fade away. A desire to restore something is a smile written down with tears or a sadness written down with a smile. Farewell and no longer seeing each other does not necessarily mean separation and no longer communicating. It does not necessarily mean forgetting. Just for you. The sadness has been rubbed into my moonlight and into the mountains, and every night as cold as water will touch my old pain. If the four seasons can be arranged to be extremely bleak, if the sun is willing, life can be arranged to be extremely lonely. If love is willing, I can never look back. Appear if you are willing, my dear friend, I have nothing but thoughts for you. However, if you are willing, I will immediately make the thoughts wither and die. If you are willing, I will dig up every seed, cut off every river, and leave it barren. The dryness extends to infinity. I will never think of you again in this life, except in some nights that are moist with tears. If you are willing to give in, as long as I have your fragrant summer in my eyes, a sincere song will always remain in my heart. Poetry: Then there is nothing bad about being sad till the end of one's life. I can't sit quietly on the lotus like the Buddha. I am a mortal. My life is this rolling mortal world. Everything in this world I want to be happy. Sadness is my burden. I want it all. Even though I know that one day all the joys and sorrows will leave me, I still try my best to collect those beautiful and entangled memories that are worth living for her. Colorful love poems. So what is different about my experience today? When I look back, the love that once made me cry is just like a love poem of a dream and a rainbow. My lover is the summer that just disappeared, the torrential rain, the memory that just passed. When he came to look for me, he couldn't find me, so he was filled with sadness. After I left, I woke up and wrote three hundred poems with tears in the sky where the clouds gradually became lighter and the wind became lighter. Finally, you no longer loved me. I finally said goodbye to you and returned to my original loneliness. Unexpectedly, we met again. The innocence I had before is nowhere to be found, and in my heart you have become an ever-burning wildfire. If love can explain, oaths can be modified, if the encounter between you and me can be rearranged, then life will be easier. If one day I finally I can forget you, but this is not a casual legend, nor is it a drama that will be staged tomorrow. I cannot find the original manuscript and erase you with one stroke. It is only yesterday that the woman waded into the river to pick the hibiscus, and the river was thousands of times old. The white clouds that carry me only leave behind a few anonymous poems. So what is different about my experience today? The love that once made me shed tears is just like a dream when I look back. The last pen traveled thousands of miles to say goodbye to you. My initial relationship with you was like a dream. On the last moonlit night, you already knew me. When I was the youngest and youngest, you know how lovingly Mount Guanyin once looked down on me, and how delicate and gentle youth was, and you recognized me immediately. When the years are full of sadness, I will come back to transition. Let the twilight melt into my vicissitudes of life and tears, and you also understand and have watched with concentration how those two seagulls flew low over the bow of my boat. The dead are like this. Shuibizi. Yesterday's joy and sorrow will never come back to me again. I only have this lush green under the moonlight, so lonely and so crowded, hiding
Ah, goodbye to all my memories. My pen boy, you have the love that I cherish in your heart. Don’t blame me and hate me. Please remember me when I was young. Please always look back in the sea breeze. Don’t pay attention to the sun and moon in this world. I am the embroidered girl. I couldn't choose my destiny, but fate chose me. So day after night, I used a cold needle to embroider the twilight song of my once-hot youth. I like to leave the wilderness in the twilight. At this time, all the colors have become silent and the darkness has not yet begun. There is still the last touch of passion in the lush greenery that comes on the hill. I also like to tell the story of Mu Weimu's life. At this time, all the stories have been formed and the ending has not yet come. I look back with a smile to find my former heart. Wandering and Sad Heart Painting Exhibition I know that beautiful things will never stay for anyone, so I hang my love and sadness on the wall for exhibition and sale. Volume 8: Hidden Pain. A place I have never seen before is actually my hometown. All the knowledge. There is only one name. I can't find my direction in the dark city. Father, mother, that name is the thorn in my heart. I don't just have the memory of you. You must know that there are many, many clues in my heart, but some of them I can't touch. The touch is a heart-pounding pain, so when the moon comes out, I can only imagine the appearance of your smile, but I never dare to imagine how it shines on my hometown outside the Great Wall. The afternoon road on the highway is a river, the speed is noisy, and my car is a lonely one. The arrow shoots at the hunting wind and sand (they say the high pressure comes from Inner Mongolia). Against the backdrop of the scorching sun, it blows along with the breath of the green grass. How many years have passed and it has blown across the mountains and thousands of miles (can you catch up with it at a speed of 90 kilometers)? To meet me at this corner, I held my breath and called for the place where the wind and sand came from. My hometown was filled with tears in the speeding car. The song of homesickness was a clear and distant flute. It always sounded on the moonlit night, but the appearance of my hometown was still there. It is a kind of vague melancholy, like waving goodbye in the fog. Nostalgia after farewell is like a tree without annual rings that will never grow old. I went to the Botanical Garden in the afternoon of July, after seeing the rich soil, and then looking at the pond full of lotuses in a In the afternoon of July, the lotus leaves fluttered in the wind, just like my mother's clothes today. The lotus flowers gently brought the secret fragrance in the folds of her clothes. But my mother is still unhappy. Only I know why. Oh, beautiful mother, you can't do it because of it. If it weren't called Xuanwu, you wouldn't love this lake. Destiny, the sea, and the moon are deep. I'm suffocated by the blue nostalgia. The daisies have a kind of whiteness in dreams, and the grass is just outside the Great Wall. I should have been shepherding sheep on the hillside. The man I love is riding a horse. When you come, you will see my red dress fluttering. Tonight the fog is rising from Europe. I am lost in the gray alleys, and the grass beyond the Great Wall is leaving the Song of the Great Wall. Please sing me a Song of the Great Wall with the forgotten ancient music. Please use your beautiful vibrato to gently call the great rivers and mountains in my heart. The fragrance that can only be found outside the Great Wall. Whoever said the tune of the Saizi song is too sad. If you don't like to listen to it, it's because there is no desire for you in the song. We are always I have to sing again and again, thinking of the thousands of miles of prairie shining with golden light, thinking of the wind and sand whistling across the desert, thinking of the banks of the Yellow River, beside the Yin Mountains, the heroes riding horses, riding horses back to their hometown, the ballad of the Great Wall, even though a history was fought up and down the city, even though a branch was taken and returned. How many passes in Yanzhi have so many joys and sorrows? You will always be a heartless building, squatting on the top of the desolate mountain, looking at the grudges of the world with a cold eye. Why can't I sing about you and write about you? In the fire, there is your body that is thousands of miles away, your face that is thousands of years old, your clouds, your trees, your wind. Under the Yinshan Mountains of Chile River, the moonlight tonight should be like water, and the Yellow River will still flow by you tonight and flow into my sleepless dreams. The place where the wind and sand come from has a name. My father said, son, that is your hometown. The grassland outside the Great Wall is thousands of miles away. Mother said, son, the name has only one memory. When the wind and sand rise, the heart of hometown rises. When the wind and water fall, the heart of hometown has nowhere to rest. The clouds that are looking for it. O wandering eagle, my wave is not just to call. Please let me and you row across the sky as a couple and fly to the experienced Guanshan. A place I have never seen before is actually my hometown. All the knowledge has only one name. In the gray city, I I can't find the direction. Father, mother, that name is the thorn in my heart.
Beautiful moments, he gave me the whole starry sky so that I can come and go freely. I know that what I enjoy is a deep and broad love. Beautiful moments for H.P. The night spreads out like black brocade and the soft words come from Sweetness lingers around my ears. My heart that was so cold during the day is slowly warming up. I long for you to hold me in your arms at such a beautiful moment. The bride loves me, but don’t just do it because I am your bride today. Don't love me just because of this fragrant wind, this European sunshine in May, because I will spend the vicissitudes of life with you as a couple. The love should be like the boundless ocean, with waves rising and falling, reliving that time when my hair is white. On the island of sails, no one will be able to remember everything about you as much as I can remember, so much love, I am my companion in my youth, you are the speeding arrow, I am the sound of the wind beside your feathers, you are the wounded eagle, and I am the one who comforts you. The moonlight, you are the proud pine, I am the lingering vine, may you be my partner forever, I am your gentle wife in all my life, the river of time - who said we must grow old and separate, but you, my beloved, did not hear it. What is it that flows quietly in front of our bed and wakes me up? Your black hair is on the snow-white pillow. Your young and strong body is sleeping peacefully beside me in the window. You are my life-long partner. The moon is shining brightly outside the window, my beloved. Is the river of time flowing in front of our bed at this moment, or is it just my nightmare in the dark night, my heart palpitations? He gave me the entire starry sky so that I can come and go freely. I know that what I enjoy is a deep and broad one. Only in the corner of happiness can we calmly write poems and shed tears. In the sunlit garden, he planted me into a rose that grew freely. And my happiness is more than that. Under his strong and gentle wings, I know, I know, I know very well. It’s one
Please adopt it