Standing on the other side of the ancient Taoer River, there is no moonlight in the heart of the night, the wind is still blowing dust and sand and blowing the ancient flute for thousands of years. The yearning of Taoer River, which is entwined into a knot, extends the fragmentary thoughts in the wind. Doomed to this time of year, doomed to have ancient pain, gently covering the tracks of the years.
In early spring, the leaves are rustling, the moon is full 15, the night is dark, the crescent moon is round, and the sand is crazy, people think, and dreams are cold. April in early spring, the wind and sand of elegant dreams, in the lonely journey of life, construct a mournful and beautiful picture, Su Wu shepherd sheep!
Standing in the full moon under the night drink alone, a period of life past, a wisp of love, entangled such as spring rain, fell in the heart of my thoughts. The full moon of the fifteenth day is as cold as cold, illuminating the number of stars, sitting alone in the study of the poet, in this special night, inadvertently open the deep broken heart of missing; inadvertently start the dust-sealed emotional scars of a thousand years.
In the middle of nowhere, there is a dream of colorful clouds that do not return in April.
Standing in the sadness of the wind and sand world, in the love of life, the return channel, such as clouds and smoke, is full of floating leaves and wild sand. The melancholy spring rain locked the dream ship, so that the affectionate Taoer River dried up in the wind and sand and cold, and the moon of the fifteenth year was round again. Lonely wolf, wandering in the ancient Taoer River, ice-clear Taoer River water, but no dust in the sky. Since then, floating leaves speechless, spring breeze no tears, infatuated earth, in the April spring rain Huoran frozen into an affectionate stiff soil, clear in the hypocritical world of mortals.
Moonlight, starry sky, eyes and thoughts, memories and the past, lonely post station of life, can no longer listen to the thoughts of wind chimes.
In April, the wind and sand suddenly rose, sweeping across the barren black land of Daqin Tagoda. In the world of mortals, people put on the mask of hypocrisy and ruthlessness, and are tired of running for their own selfishness.
Thousands of years of wind and sand still swept across the ancient Taoer River, still heroic and proud to laugh at the world, holding a toast to the poet, but traveling to other places of dreams, in order to a pure dream, looking for thousands of years of ancient elegance.
Author: Geng Biao, the flying eagle
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