How can the feelings of joys and sorrows be recalled today?

Time, let the deep things get deeper and deeper, let the shallow things get shallower. The night is fading, a table of Qinghui, gentle lingering. I wrote under the moon, with acquaintance as ink, acquaintance as paper, deeply written, a book of Acacia such as Dan words, every sentence meaning cut, words condensed.

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"one"

Inadvertently that encounter, left me with beautiful memories, so that my thoughts can not stop the heavy footsteps.

Follow that kind of inexplicable joy, inexplicably embedded in the heart. The day becomes a blossom of words, falling to miss.

Smoke lock autumn, a few rolls of lotus wind micro-delivery, the heart swept a trace of coolness. Thoughts also spread along with it.

The moonlight is like water, but it is hard to hide the cold silence. Love and hate love and hatred, beating on the lyre, with the misty sound of the flute, clear the world of mortals.

The mood suddenly falls into a kind of gentle sadness, which is not passive or sad, but a kind of lingering.

Like a cup of old wine that has been fermented for a long time by the shadow of time, infatuated.

After years of picking it up, it is still a shallow pain.

Life is full of wind and rain, the more you miss, the more you dare not stay.

So we stumbled all the way and passed each other all the way. Forget the pain, forget to look back.

I always thought there was a smooth road ahead for me to stop. So we walked all the way and missed it all the way.

"two"

Meet too beautiful, can not rest, we bear the vicissitudes of life, along the heart along the accumulation of cocoons.

Love blossoms in the heart. It looks delicate and gorgeous, but in fact it is a nuisance.

We pass by, crisscross, from then on, both ends of the world, have been strangers. Turn around and let the memories fall apart.

Time is in a hurry, after all, we are just passers-by.

Close all the doors of the heart, only for you, open a window, is strong? Stubborn? Or helpless and confused?

Moonlight on the night, a piece of paper, I use words, gently call you.

I don't know since when, I'm used to being alone, not to be disturbed, not to be disturbed.

Accustomed to a person sitting in front of the computer, a lamp such as beans, heart like snow, in the text to seek a spiritual sustenance.

The light moon is quiet, the window is swaying, the pen is thin and the finger is soft. Under the moon, I count the past years; between the lines, I look for you.

"three"

Between the green hills and clear water, you come on the waves in a flat boat, waiting for thousands of years and missing each other for thousands of years to make an appointment in this life.

In the Tang and Song poems, you are full of affection, across the mountains and rivers, stepping on the flat rhyme foot, walk into my heart.

You say that you are the chaos of war that I do not know, and I am the tenderness of the city that you have never touched.

Moonlight all over the city, who accompanies me in the apricot blossom shadow, playing the flute till dawn?

There are some people in life who rub shoulders with us, but have no time to meet.

Met, but no time to know each other; acquaintance, but no time to be familiar with; familiar, but still want to say goodbye.

Or, everything has already been decided.

When fate comes, it gathers; when fate goes, it scatters. I can't force it at all.

Like being infatuated with a city, you have to leave after all.

Time is like sand, outside the city, who has infected whose sadness? Who cares that my eyes are full of wind and frost?

When I miss you, sometimes I look like peach blossoms, sometimes I burst into tears. But at the moment, I am not sad or happy.

Like tonight, the moon is full in the sky

Such as the tide of thoughts infiltrated in Zhanzhan Qinghui, a kind of skeletal silence, for a long time intoxicated, smiling, do not want to wake up.

Like this gentle wind, this trickling music.

When everything is over, who can accompany you to laugh three thousand times drunkenly, do not sue away from the war?

"four"

When I touch the river of the years, only touch the endless lonely soul and infinite stagger emotion, I still hope that at the end of the years, pick up that piece of tenderness.

After all, I don't know if what you want and what I give is the same feeling.

For you and me, perhaps leaving safely in this way is the best outcome. Even if the world of mortals strangers, always met, in the future, ups and downs, but also good.

Only when my heart is naked, somewhere in the bottom of my heart, I think sadly that I can't release it.

I can't hide secrets, nor can I hide sadness, just as I can't hide the joy of being together or the loss of separation.

See and do not see, all in the heart.

Thousands of thoughts play at your fingertips, can you hear me?

I have begun to see the vicissitudes of life, but I can't wait for you to come late.

I have begun to look old, can you know?

I hope he will see each other every year and the flowers will bloom as before.

"five"

Bai Luomei said

Everyone's life varies in length, and all we can do is not to leave too many regrets when we are alive.

As for what will happen in the afterlife, no one knows what will happen.

When I am old, looking back over the years, I have heard birdsong together, waited for flowers to bloom together, and seen the full moon together, may have long gone away from you.

And those who hold hands to see the back, as if the promise of running water, has also become a pile of incomplete past.

Time boils rain, the past is like rain. Those who have been for a long time, those beautiful people, those things that are just things for some people, have been boiled into Rain Water by time, watering all the freshmen, covering the splendor of yesterday.

Open the wrinkles of the years, have already stood lonely into a tree to look up.

Longing for a kind of drunkenness, envy Taibai raised a glass to invite the moon, but also afraid to look down to see the figure drink together there have been three people.

Longing for a lotus to accept good advice, indifferent and tolerant. Embrace the past and accept the future.

Longing for an understanding is to know how to let love flow.

Understand the truth that flowers bloom, but also understand the past and the past. How far is forever? the perfect world is not forever.

I'm used to hearing about meeting and missing, but please don't say forever.

The past is like smoke, about the past, about the story, will be sent again and again, a long way away. Since then, mountains and rivers have been silent forever.

After the rest of my life, it is still misty rain several times blowing the setting sun, still you in my words, ushered in, sent away.

And I will always be there, even if lonely into the sea.

"six"

lost track of time,

Grass separation

Send you thousands of miles on the bright moon night

In the coming year, the autumn wind rises.

Listen to "time boil rain". Author: Biyun Tian