The thoughts of June still hide a vein of mountains and rivers, a stream of rivers. When the wind passes by, there will be ripples in the bottom of my heart.
On the street, the winding path leads to seclusion. There are hermits, plants, birds and insects. The grass gives rise to smoke, and spring has drifted away in the last sigh of the willow flute. The green of the branches, with a cluster of crystal fresh, a swallow cry, so that the quiet heart lake ripples. How many spring, summer, autumn and winter, how many twilight rise and fall, the interpretation of the wonderful years.
Looking back, in the depths of time, there was a riot of colors. The scattered fragrance is as good as ever, reflecting with the verdant branches. In March, the collection of peach red becomes more and more bright in the light water. The landscape is silent, and the plain fireworks in the fleeting years are still common. Favorite, get up in the morning, return at dusk, in the wind of the four seasons, continuous with the mood of the four seasons.
Farewell, the process of going away with the past, so that all become the heart of the beautiful and warm scenery, do not dye the cool flowers. When the wild goose returned to the south, it seemed that it was just a light turn, and the winding path was covered with fallen flowers. Faint grass, such as the dormant hope at the bottom of my heart, grows and spreads under the gentle gaze of the sun. Read, there is some pallor in these unstoppable surges. After all, heavy steps cannot catch up with these booms. Ren time, stretching in the verdant, breeds another kind of inexplicable melancholy.
Walk shallowly, always think that along the poetic direction, you can open your own love. Outside the world of mortals, inside the clear heart, there is a pool of clear water and a touch of Enron. I believe that those who fall in love, do not need to salvage, there is no need to persevere. In this world, how much you know, how much you are waiting for. As much as you turn around, you will be reunited. The past will always go away and become a touch of light. Silence, the peace of the years. If you come, I will welcome you gladly; if you go, I will wave my sleeves lightly. Let you take away the cloud that you once loved most.
The fleeting mark of careful seal cutting will eventually be gently moist and yellowed by the warmth of the years, showing a touch of warmth. The season of falling flowers coincides with you. However, it is only a blank of my life. Surprise, still quiet, dignified with my loneliness.
You, just like the breeze, walk faintly from the city full of poems and paintings. I don't have time to treasure, I don't have time to say goodbye to you softly.
Finally, everything returned to peace. Such as those chapters lost in the poem, there is no original intention, there is no sadness. In this way, light, a little from the corner of the eye, through.
Miss the depths, or miss; behind the sadness, or sadness. It is better to live in the world of mortals and banish all thoughts to the end of the world. The gentle heart, according to the water potential down the river, carved everything into bright lines, such as the fragrance of gardenia left in the depths of fleeting years. Wait, the breeze passes by, there will be a dark fragrance filled with sleeves, warm all the sadness, incense all the fleeting time.
Lonely palms, gently brushing through the fleeting years, overflowing with the five-flavor smoke. A piece of paper wrote a good chapter, fell from the center of the eyebrow, wet time. If years are gone and you and I are still here, will this warmth still be the original temperature? Falling flowers dye cool, moistening memories. With delicate hands, how can you keep the time at your fingertips? One true, one smile, one eye smiling and dignified.
If did not meet, perhaps, our miss is also a kind of regret! Across the shore, missing is remote. If you are not careful, your smile will last forever and surround your heart every day. Sad and enchanting melancholy, who knows? Who solved it? Only the breeze, light passing, still speechless.
Presumably, some warmth begins from the moment we meet. No invitation, no explanation, quietly growing in the bottom of my heart. Such as the spring outside the window, increasingly verdant, pavilions such as cover. Presumably, it is a little cold, starting from the moment I turned around. Falling flowers into a mound, in each for his own safety gradually farther away, such as the cold sun three feet frozen. If you say that knowing each other is like a mirror, why is there always a distance between the ends of the world. According to the door in early June, will open in the heart of loneliness, covered with every foot, with a flower of Enron incense time. You have been in the heart, and the shallow ink left blank is the dialogue and lingering between you and me.
Days, round and round, I walk quietly between the lines. Quietly write down the whiteness of the clouds, the clearness of the breeze, the softness of the moonlight, and the beauty of the flowers. With the ebb and flow of the tide, why should we care that our appearance is old and our heart is no longer young? There is no need to ask, this landscape, with you will go how far, how long can stay?
Outside the window, the breeze leisurely, shallow across the windowsill, stopping on the vines outside the window to rest. Such as you, every time unexpected, silent, but there is always a kind of silent warmth, there is a wisp of eternal warmth. Thinking of your faint smile, my heart is inadvertently gentle. In an instant, yearning, such as water, overflowed the fence of memory, clearly reflecting the falling flowers of that year, we met inadvertently.
Walking with falling flowers, the dark fragrance is full of sleeves, just like your lotus incense. A pool of light ink, quietly infiltrating the fleeting past. Thoughts such as smoke, such as the small lotus of Bitang, light. A pool of clear water, as quiet as glass, nourishes the mind.
In the twinkling of an eye, we met for many years. Every day of falling flowers, I will write down some light words and send them to you. Residual red evening photo, face the water to imitate flowers. Into the eye, that place of petals, is a wisp of fragrance, is a place of poetry. Maybe it is the fragrance of flowers as a matchmaker, you are before the flowers, and I am after the flowers, and we will meet again after a season of flowers.
You say that you like the season of falling flowers, and there are ten thousand kinds of amorous feelings in the light sadness. Like you, smiling with a smile.
I said, flowers fall speechless, quiet and good. Like a meeting without regrets, I also like the quality of Luohua Enron. Like you, elegant confession.
In fact, how do you know, I do not like to see falling flowers. That faint sadness is very much like a parting one after another. Now crushed into dust, I don't know, will it still smell the same in the coming year? This meeting is a little too beautiful. Collect the fragrance of a pot of fallen flowers, shallow into the rhyme. The former level is the wedge of reunion, I am waiting, I do not know whether you will keep the appointment as scheduled.
Over the years, such as song. To meet is like a poem. Singing the gentleness of life, quiet a gurgling water, let the fragrance curl in every sunny sun and moon. Looking back, fleeting Yiyi. My thoughts are always there. Neither thick nor light, neither far nor near, just right. As time fades away, and years pass by, it will not change.
Because, like. Enter the heart, dream, there is always a kind of soft warmth, and familiar relatives, open into my favorite scenery in my eyes. Miss around the finger, light exhibition of plain paper. Falling flowers intentionally, let the dimple spread all over the eyebrows, heart. When you were away, I copied the vicissitudes of life with words. The sunshine outside the window, such as you, will always warm through all my sadness. Look at the flowers falling out of the window, shallow, gently, spread all over the floor. Heart, moment, gentle as water. I see the corner, you are waiting for me, smiling, silent.
The world of mortals is still poetic and warm. After years of plain paper, I flipped through an old period of time. Look at the bits and pieces, tilting in the days of walking away. That touch of dark blue, slightly painful sleeping memory. Encounter fleeting time, full of fallen flowers, has always been my nostalgic bonus. I cherish, collect and nourish with piety. Along that long path, I am looking for, looking for what you lost that year.
After all, it is doomed to this unstoppable drifting. Take a light look at you and me in time, cordial and familiar. Suddenly, I want to hug you gently in time and accompany you to see the insipid flow of water. The falling flowers are speechless, the city is warm, only because of you. In fact, I never thought about getting anything. Sitting fleeting time, I only want to wait and wait so quietly. In this season of speechless flowers, in my clear and shallow poems, what I have engraved is only like the first sight.
After thousands of landscapes, I have already got used to waiting. I have no grievances and no regrets. If one day, we are separated in the deepest world of mortals, please do not complain. Go forward, the sun is just right, the warmth is still the same. Every time we walk together, we regard them as immortal fragments in the fleeting years. If one day, we are drifting apart, please forgive each other. Looking ahead, the flowers on the other side are still blooming. Those affectionate and beautiful, as if the feast has ended. If one day, we gently wave our sleeves, do not say that it is hard to part, let the tears be buried in the bottom of our hearts. A journey of landscape, a string of clear sounds, say to each other to take care, the next ferry, maybe we will meet again!
Things turn around. Some people, some things, always slowly fade out of each other's lives in time. But I will always remember that year, that month, that day, the season of falling flowers, coincided with you. Like an old friend, inside, full of love, love, love.
Words / glazed sparse film
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