The cold branches hang on the moon, and the night is cold. The flowers are gorgeous, but they are stained with frost. Waiting for your mood, has been like this numerous flowers. Infinite yearning, full of tonight's moon. Looking at the full moon flowing Qinghui, filled with rich Acacia. Poor Acacia flowers, in the cold moonlight, pale and desolate. Look forward to the full moon, the full moon miss each other. Now it is a full moon, but neglected a tree of flowers, lonely all over the ground sad.
Suddenly with your expectations, sometimes I just feel accidental, but I still can't sleep tonight. I seem to be mixed with something in the rain. I just hope you can understand as soon as possible.
I look at you from afar, have you ever sent red beans?
The shadows of the trees are mottled, and the distant mountains contain dai. Desolate prairie, and see the ground full of frost. Still wandering alone, in the heavy night. Bitter Acacia floats in the night sky.
Bright eyes are good, cloud sleeves are light and comfortable, flowers and shadows are whirling, night birds sound. Look at the moon and be reunited at last. Melt a season of Acacia pain, tears congealed wonderful eyes. Open your bosom and invite the moon to drink. It's been a season of worry. Dipped in ink crazy books, full of love. Ashamed of the fairies of the month, melancholy of the stars of the river. The moon is shining and the night is fragrant. After tasting the bitterness of Acacia, I appreciate the joy of this gathering.
Flick refers to the fleeting years, brush the song dust scattered. The feelings around the fingers, inadvertently fiddling with the heartstrings, whispering slowly in the ear, tearing the memory of years' footnotes, like the light sigh of flowers, a little unbearable, a little reluctant to give up. Jiehong running water, with a ray of breeze, in the shallow summer flower paper to write one side Qingyuan, reverie far away, dark fragrance Ying sleeve. Quietly guarding Qinghuan, looking for a couple in the harbor, forgetting the rain and wind, looking for a moment of serenity, cruising in memory and incense in memory, is it not a kind of warm and quiet?
This state of mind rises leisurely, like a dewdrop soaked in night rain and morning frost, perched on the broad and soft veins of yesterday, and the morning light is slightly dewy, awakening me and carefully weighing my thoughts. Can be somehow, always disturbed by their own restless mood, dipped in a touch of worry, confused mood. Years and I, pain and happiness, a piece of ancient music, playing the meaning of running water, a wave of stranded light and shadow. At this time, the heart is a little lonely, fragile heart, outlines the heavy memory, ruminates every light and shadow mottled by the years, every haggard and thin day is full of spots. I told you, I was just collecting my thoughts, but it took me one night, maybe more time to settle.
You told me that I needed precipitation; you told me that I was too rash. So I regard truth as deception, I regard messy as an accident, I regard the voice as the rain tonight, but no longer flow.
Eyebrow shallow thinking, the heart of the candle flickering, the fragments of the past years, absurd continuation of the results, that was shelved in the depths of time a curtain of dreams, in the joy of spiritual words grow wildly, and then the mood of prosperity, so smart, drowned my sobriety and reserve. Listening to that familiar sad music, unexpectedly unable to sort out the moved at the moment, soft and unable to walk through the traces of solidification of the years, looking back on the beauty of being sent off on the phone, but also unable to pay tribute to the unreachable happiness and happiness with a smile.
The tender feelings fill my heart with the dream of yesterday's Pianfei.
This bright and beautiful, like Jinse flow away China years, emaciated green miss, ignorant restlessness, that past feelings, such as willow delicate, such as yesterday smoke. Knowing that it is too old to worry about new words, learn to turn bitterness into a light smile and smear the gray memory with splendor. Rely on the sun alone, slowly taste the fragrance, slowly release their feelings, will be a dense and beautiful summer cool breath into this cup. Along the open window, a cool wind brushed my cheek, the sound of tapping on the keyboard and the coolness of this moment gave a unique serenity and comfort. Let the breeze spread over my heart and eyebrow, listen to the graceful sound played by the years, let the light of the heart and the temperature of the season, rich and thin memory; let my own blue and quiet, rely on the lintel of the years, look for my own bright and beautiful …...
Cut a period of seasonal fragrance, manage a wisp of beautiful mood, and rub it into the shallow text. Water droplets splash down, I smell the smell of flowers, counting the days and nights of the blooming season, there is also a period of time in the haunting seasons. I know that restless mood and longing for a long time is still a brief look in the depths of the soul, through that dream-like convergence, is the real spring blossoms. This watch season, holding a que Acacia, dipped in the call of extravagance, willing to stand for you into a persistent birch tree, waiting for you in that long and smart space, dress up a green for you, shaking down a graceful and mournful riot, just for that thought, it will become an eternal watch!
Last night, the afterlife is crisp, the season, the bridge wind is warm, flowers bloom misty rain, Qin blue dream, always can not fall that rich and gorgeous brushstroke, is to leave yearning in that like water time. Quietly, invite Qinglian and Dream, accompanied by relaxed downstairs in the dormitory, dancing mottled fleeting, sighing last night's talk. Put a restless heart and sighing breath in the silent lotus. It is enough to hide the lingering dream in the depths of memory and broken time until the spring solstice in the coming year, so that those who have been, those who have been forever blooming in the fertile ground of missing.
Gently stretch your arms, touch the sun, feel its warmth, remember its beauty, thoughts leisurely, like the sun that is about to move. Flipping through the thoughts such as water, inkstone moving the pool of ink, flying pen and ink dancing in the boundless thoughts, beautiful years, washing exhaustion, bringing infinite warmth. Seasonal wind, blowing Zhang Zhang calendar, the conversion of fleeting years to remember the past, after the dust has settled, the dust has settled, time is no longer. Looking back on the days of shallow looking, tears, laughter, and even sadness all flow away with Surabaya, no longer repeat, no longer shallow look …...
Choose a quiet place, one side of the book sighs. Should I miss it?
It has been raining heavily all night, so is my mind, and it is so real to be afraid of missing it. Let me wait quietly. Maybe not, so I never dare to tell you more, but the time in my memory is so fast.
I think what hurts me most is not my blurring and ignorance, but your silence and elegance.
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