My favorite so far. Across the mountains and rivers, you are the hometown I can't go back to. You sit with me and look at the two sides of time.
The peach blossoms are in full bloom there, as gorgeous as the sad red clouds all over the sky. You smile calmly, but I am still watching here, and the fallen flowers are like rain, which proves that I can grasp the flowers and smile clearly. Love is so prosperous and so lonely.
Get up, then sit down, knowing that my fate with you is only this cup of tea. The ending has already arrived before me, dormant in a rain in May. Ten minutes may not be enough for a lifetime of memories, but it is enough to make all the years grow old.
The sky in May is covered with celadon glaze, and your porcelain-green clothes are fluttering in the wind. The sun is everywhere, you take a handful of it, put it into my hand, and say: "I love you"! Three words are a prophecy, and I was struck by your words. From then on, heavy shackles were carried in every dream of mine. Even though I knew there was no hope, I clung to my remaining persistence, thinking that I could eventually wait for you to become the most beautiful scenery.
If youth can be a bet, I have put all my chips in, just waiting for you to show me the final victory or defeat by playing a pair of Pai Gow with nine heavens and ten lands. Unexpectedly, you left in the middle, and your sleeves were blown by the wind, disrupting the gambling game. No one is sitting on the bank, and the cards in this game are like peach blossoms in March, scattered on the lake in May, and the whole lake is scattered into ashes and smoke.
Then I re-examined my fate and saw how it described this encounter. Dusk is closing in, and the clouds on the horizon are getting darker. When people leave, the tea is cold. There is a bright moon, shining on your back as you wade through the water. Ten feet of red dust decorate you with brocade. Thousands of hibiscus clothes you with gorgeous clothes. But you don’t look back at all. In this way, you can easily travel through my life. of vicissitudes of life.
Spread your palms, the sunshine is meager, just like your promise. I love you so much, so I hope you will mix your tears with your promises, and see your tenderness with eternity. But I never expected that the years will foreshadow your smile. When the wind and sand are everywhere and the dust is everywhere, you will break your halberd and raise your sword to kill everyone with your carbine. Put me in a dangerous situation that I will never recover from.
I didn’t have the courage to sing wildly and cry, but when I fell to the ground, I understood my true nature. I caught a glimpse of someone on the windy sand thousands of miles away, shaking his stirrup with his wrist and writing a line in a hurry: forgetting each other in the world. Cinnabar is like blood, shocking.
Forgetting, easier said than done? Beside the smoke and water pavilion, you used a blue silk ribbon to heal the knot in my heart. The water from the south of the Yangtze River dazzled your eyes. You have been the source of water for my life, moistening my dry sight and softening my cold and hard heart. . Forgetting you is worse than forgetting myself.
But night fell as scheduled, and the harsh winter wind replaced the March fireworks. Looking around, I was alone at the huge table, facing a cup of ice-cold tea.
I can’t help but forget it.
Forget it, let’s follow your example and walk away, find a bluestone under the bodhi tree, wait quietly, and watch the sea turn into a mulberry field.
You have reached the other shore, where the water and grass are lush and the peach blossoms are in full bloom. Even if it rains, there is still something to worry about. All I can do is get up and leave, but I still can't keep up with you. In fact, have we ever been in sync with you? The love of a cup of tea, throughout my life, is only the temperature of this cup of tea, which changes from warm to cool in just a moment.
You raise your hand and put pen to paper, turning and picking out the holy book of youth. I am a wild cursive that you cannot recognize, just one line, written and turned over by you quickly. If we mention it again, I am afraid that it will have to be quietly rewritten by Kuoda Wei style many years later before we can clearly see how easy and unbearable the original splash of ink was.
If you can drink alcohol to recall the past, you can have a hangover from the past. When I woke up, the sky was still clear and the wind was still clear, but after all, the time on both sides of the river could not be hung with a reed. I know your thoughts.
No more words are needed, I will forget you in the rivers and lakes, drink the vicissitudes of life, feed my belly with years, make fine clothes with years, turn around quietly after a thousand times, and then leave .