When there is no more light rain and falling flowers in this world, when there are no edges and corners of the mountain, when the world of mortals is no longer the world of mortals, I will try to turn all my thoughts into specimens and clip them in the book you will read casually; one day, you will inadvertently find it-in the light of the morning, the sunny day of the rising red sun It may be a rose with thorns, a few yellowed jasmine leaves, or even a few tears that will dry up quickly if you don't look carefully; you must forgive me, my message didn't come until now.
One day the wind and dew, apricot blossoms like snow; for a while spring dreams, Jiangnan sky is broad; in this ancient and simple era, in this age when white clothes are better than snow, in this spring breeze blowing green again in the late spring on the banks of Jiangnan; because the wind falls, because flowers sleep, because of karma. You forget-Red Bowl learns to dance with a soft waist, and a song like that gives birth to tears in my eyes several times; I am the only one standing alone on this stage when the curtain falls and the applause goes out. But I know that when I am most unguarded, my beautiful posture and appearance have been pulled away from you by the camera, and I can never go back to reality and existence-you look down in the air, my face smiling sadly in the light and shadow. no, no, no. In a trance, riding a horse leaning on the inclined bridge, tea tricks all over the building-deja vu, like a dream.
Finally know what love is-when the autumn wind is bleak, the leaves spoiled by thousands of tree trunks leave sadly, because her sacrifice will return to the new life of this tree in the coming year, at that time, there will be new life blooming branches, Qiqian Xi, whirling and dancing; finally know what is ruthless-- round fan, group fan, beauty disease to cover the face; jade haggard for three years. Who will discuss the orchestra? String, spring grass Zhaoyang road cut off!
Once was how happy ah, this life will perform with you; Qingqingzi, leisurely my heart; give me a few willow branches, spring wisps, for the king will go to the south of the Yangtze River; Qingqingzi Pei, leisurely I think; how do you know, people in the small red building, curtain shadow? What makes my heart faint fragrance of jasmine? What fills my face with the holy aura of being loved and comforted? What is it that makes my soul have a long history in the sea of praise and blessing? Just listen to me whisper in the faint night, wantonly flowing with the shyness and tears of youth; I have no intention of fighting for spring, but the sex is always blown away by rain and wind; when I change the world, can I look back? The song has come to an end, people have broken up, just know such a big stage, but I am the only one with a silver note in hand, gallantly said that time.
I know that the most hurried thing in this world is not the time but the gentle and sunny tenderness; what is most thoroughly forgotten is not the faith but the vows of love and love of the beasts in clothes, and the most determined thing to go is not to wait but to break the sand of the promontory; the resentment of the past, such haste, innumerable red, only weeping Yang self-dance; turn to Zhu Pavilion, low-lying households, misty rain in mid-air, and dream of Wuzhu in Hengjiang River; Yanzi Building is empty, and the dark dust locks a bed. Shuiyi spring is back, hope to send me Jiangnan plum calyx; unfortunately, you are already waving away that piece of cloud, the afterglow in the sunset gradually fades away with the twilight, and the years that fly away like butterflies' broken wings in the night fog will never return.
Acacia is said on the string of the pipa. At that time, the bright moon was there and had returned to Caiyun.
Transferred from: Guangming blog
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