Looking at the flowers and missing the old all my life, I lost weight and drifted away the setting sun several times. Write Tianya Sheng Song Fu, pick the stars and the moon into the wild grass. Looking at flowers in the fog is the most tempting, fishing for the moon in the water is the most torture. Walk in a silent manner, do not seek a complete harvest, but be silent and make no mistakes
Inscription
The world of mortals is rolling, the corner is to meet love, to meet you, to turn around is to fulfill you, bless you. Tianya bright moon Acacia breeze, how can the clouds be sent! The wind floated over the lintel of June, pouring cups from one drink to another, and the flowers blossomed and fell several times. The sound of playing is irregular, and it is wrong to play with words. In the breeze of the bright moon, the quiet dream is tired. Forget who, remember who, maybe meeting is a misunderstanding. I like Cangyang Gyatso's "see or not", but I still don't get tired of listening to it countless times. Also realized one thing, the Buddha can not change is the word of love, missing the pursuit of unobtainable, inexplicable.
Many things, many people, have their own destiny, every encounter is a reunion after a long absence, otherwise why thousands of people can walk into each other's eyes, just one more look, moved, broke the heart of the crack of the sky. Also learned to let go of all the reluctance, the greatest luck in life is that when you are most depressed, some people never give up, say that when I am in the most painful time, some people say that my shoulders are wide enough, you can cry upside down and dry your tears! Instead of burning into charcoal for love, it is better to manage a friendship. The strings of the heart can no longer be tossed about, and they will be broken when touched.
Dusk is no longer what I chase forever, maybe all I want is the deep affection of the moon in the mirror. Anshou insipid, a journey of scenery with you with no regrets, so that hot tears become a scorching freezing point, like crystal sealed forever. See or not, I did not change there, but no longer uneasy, no longer holding the paper kite in my hand. Love does not increase or decrease, a person's Mo Li Qing Huan, has nothing to do with anyone.
Your face can not be seen clearly in the dream, but the softness of the broken heart. If you dream for a thousand years, then let love burn into charcoal, who cut the red thread? The warm picture is still in front of us. Kiss floats over your lips, if you love, forever! Red shed tears, I fell into the cold smoke, Gesang flowers bloomed again and again, I do not want to cook wine and tea Zen, you have to hold me in your arms, do not let the fire warm me. The burning desire of the flame is to draw a circle for the reunion at this moment. My love, your half-mu flower field. Between heaven and earth, love is the warmest, don't let tears fall in your heart. Whose hand does the red line hold tight? I don't want the moon edge in the mirror. Long hair and waist has not been cut, a lifetime of ties, if the full moon, shadow with me trek through thousands of rivers and mountains, just want to be a little closer to you, thin, beautiful woman
Lost thousands of years of love ah, looking all over the Zama ancient road, just to meet you, just like the wind, I am infatuated! Acacia, Hong Luan! You are the shackles of my love flowers, the wind is gone, between green and yellow, is the stumbling of life, borrowed happiness, how to return? Still foolishly in love, half a lifetime of landscape lonely, who comforts me lonely? Marriage is robbed and tempered! There is no Nirvana but fall. How to cut the red line? Time rises with the sun, and the paper umbrellas left on the desolate road are broken into pieces. Never say that word, hot in the heart, you are my Loulan. If the kiss is still sweet, do not walk the curve, just let the sail of missing, vertical and horizontal yearning for the sea, drunk once in this life without regret. The west window cut candles, shadow cripple! What should I use to keep out the cold? Cold read, lost, red umbrella!
Memories are shedding their cocoons. Waves spin up thousands of words of love, just want to clasp your fingers and don't get separated. A song to meet each other, the promise of life and death is just a lie, whose arms are you in love with? On a gloomy day, the wind blew away the gentle, misty rain and red dust, who accompanied me to see all the rivers and mountains? Ask the Buddha to allow me a pair of discerning eyes to find you from the vast sea of people, don't let happiness come too slowly! I am no longer brave
If there is an afterlife, who will meet whom, who will wait for whom? Let the clear heart accompany the moonlight, drunk in this dream filled with music. Wait for a person who does not return, go his own way. As a matter of fact, it has been light and light, and there is no change after turning around. People can live arrogant to moldy, must not humbly let themselves condescend to pity. A journey of landscape and a river of autumn, brush past and do not look back. The dark fragrance leaves a mark, some of the secrets that used to be sealed, no longer open, no longer mentioned. Turn around, in fact, is to let go of themselves, give up a relationship does not need much courage, because can not afford to hurt. The last minute, or yesterday, has been a hundred years in the twinkling of an eye. There is a kind of wake up, very painful, but can never go back to the past.
The world of mortals boils the rain, the desert blowing sand teases the desolate anxiety, who made a thousand-year-old promise, and then hurriedly escaped. Desire burning hunger and thirst, the torment of the soul, you gave me seven colors of foam, the wind! If you blow it lightly, it will break. The heart was broken and slaughtered at will. The deeper the hidden, the more indifferent, the scorching sun is burning, and the twilight is a hundred degrees, who is my Buddha? How to waste time, colorless, tasteless, no waves, the contract of life and death are all legends performed in the stage.
As soon as a thousand years of spiritual practice is broken, obsession becomes a flail, and love is a lock. Who will solve the confusion in the chess game for me? Meeting is a song, how to sing is sad, falling in love is the sky fire, igniting loneliness, but did not achieve the right fruit. Who can avoid the disaster caused by infatuated love and grudges. Even if he is a Buddha, he has said to himself thousands of times. Ink is not dry, people walk tea cool, yearning is still engraved in your white wrist, not a stele, that is you and I, once loved! Happy flowers have bloomed, the word of love is not sincere, pain floating life, fireworks easy to cold. Butterflies fall in love with flowers, it's just a waste of paper for me to cross the sea.
Words: sunny light
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