You said that there is a piece of fertile soil in front of your door, which is specially made for me. You want to plant my thin seeds in front of your warm window, you are gazing at the flute, like blowing the fallen leaves at your feet far away. The tide is like night and warm as spring. Can you come to the appointment? My dearest and beloved, the spring is bright and sunny tonight, but I am like sitting in the hall sobbing and crying. I can't see you coming, just like a poor beggar, looking longingly at the ceiling like a chandelier, but can't say a word, like a stupid lover, can't find a ferry to vent.
The stars are hanging in front of the window, and the bamboo leaves in front of the door are still swaying. The wind is blowing and the rain is still falling, just like on a muddy road without the sound of horseshoes. The song of the staff cannot fall on the tree at this time. I am like a man looking for poetry in the rain and fog, counting the stars on the tree where the stars fall, like the dewdrop of my love falling on the Acacia bed in the water mist. I have a different dream in the crushed fog dream. That song such as crying conflict, again and again tearing my heart, I seem to wander in the rain and fog, want to find the intersection of your love, but that wet heart, in front of your rainy window, pour, flood, I like to lose you, like crying.
The melodious sound of the Xiao, the swirling feeding, you become the person with the flute in my dream, I like to see your beautiful beauty in the beautiful bamboo forest, it is so beautiful and moving, just like your beautiful and charming stories are interspersed in the bamboo forest, it is so beautiful and moving. You become the beautiful story of my love, in the melodious sound of Xiao, I feel your beauty, your purity, like fresh bamboo fragrance, flying into my dream, my heart.
I seemed to be dancing your beautiful dress and showing your beautiful story in the middle of the night. In the moonlit night, I smell your fragrance, like the trembling black in the image, fanning white stories in the corridor of Acacia flowers. I am writing and painting more than once, just like the twinkling stars in the night, exposed in secret, those concave and convex charming expectations are like the raindrops of lovesickness, scraping and falling on the street of love.
I wait in loneliness and worry about in my dream of lovesickness. Vision is like hope to catch in the rain and fog, just like in the bright rain star, to see the beautiful and charming you are coming to me, is so slim and beautiful.
If there were a shortcut to your love, or to your unfathomable eyes, I would pounce on you like a bird and whisper in your beautiful arms. I will not turn back, I will lick your tenderness with the feather of happiness, and will light the lamp on the path for you to guide the direction of love.
It's not that I don't dare to think, nor do I deny your shortcuts. On that beautiful road, there is always wind and rain, so why bother?
Please do not do that, do not keep your promise, love all love, love all like, why do that?
Regardless of, in each other's love, will reflect the beautiful shadow. Since it has become a reality, why are you still so eloquent? The sound of flowers blossoms in the ear, in your eyes closed hazy moment, what should have happened, do not pretend to be shy, as turning a blind eye.
You have a lot of love stories that I need to taste. I eat very bitter, but I do not know how to give up, even if the love is so mournful, I am also willing, who let you are the most beautiful rose in my heart, how can I abandon you.
I am thinking of the beautiful white angel, when I fall into the dream of lovesickness, you fly to my window. Just like your beauty is written on my poetic paper, it can never be erased.
Everything that should come, has long been doomed, will come, you can not stop. You can not forget which belong to your beautiful, how many beautiful love stories, are arranged in the image of this dream, so that you are intoxicated, physical and mental.
You are a mirror I love. I look at you every day. Where the dream ends, it is already over. Your posture is so beautiful, just like on the stage of my love, it is so lifelike.
That is you blow into my love dream of the talented woman, your elegant flute appearance, so that I can not forget this life. Your delicate hands hold the flute, the music flies out, and your magic flute power really makes me lose my soul. You are the unique and pure beauty in the world, so beautiful and charming under the elegant evening breeze. Too beautiful melody, too wonderful Xiao sound, washed in your dream, your Acacia.
Perhaps, I understand, a horizontal Xiao oblique window out, as beautiful as a fairy tale, colorful beauty, is so endless.
Author: puffer fish
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