2. At that time, you were a butterfly, I was a fallen flower, my heart was broken, and butterfly wings were all over the world; At that time, you were a clear spring, and I was a crescent moon, inseparable and empty; At that time, you were a pipa, and I was a string, singing in troubled times and feeling deeply in the world. How can a painting stained with blood rival the vermilion between your eyebrows? Just a boom. As long as you smile like a flower, I am willing to give up beautiful scenery, go back to the palace, play the role of the emperor and laugh, and I will not get drunk with you.
The past is like smoke, and the deepest thoughts are always left behind. The distance between you and me is like a bright moon and clear spring. We can only look at each other but not depend on each other. What does the word "love" mean? It's all wrong to put pen to paper. A broken string has become a ruin, and your face has become a blue and white pattern that I can't draw, which has messed up all my regrets in my third life. Your fleeting time, like a flower, walks in the deepest place, not for me, but for my floating life. As soon as you bowed your head, you wrote the sadness of my life!
4. A flower hoe. Who did Daiyu bury in tears? A small building, for whom does Xiang Jun sit alone? Ask the emperor in the hall of eternal life, and Mazaipo will disappear! Take care. Who did you send it to? Farewell. Who is it? Hurt who? Who suffered? Who is missing again? It turns out that everyone is just someone's past. If you miss it, it will become the past. Goodbye is no longer an old friend. If life is like meeting for the first time, I just want to remember the beauty when we first met. From now on, it won't hurt my eyes or make me ugly.
5. Who will accompany me to see the flowers falling in front of the court in bloom, who is not surprised by the honor or disgrace, who laughs and laughs, but has no intention to stay? Who will dance with flying snow and sing with flowers in a reincarnation? The world of mortals is like water. Who sees through the affair and meets the world of mortals? I don't want your beautiful face, I just want a word from you, don't be beautiful, and swear to be a person all my life!
6. If you can see through the world of mortals, you just want to filter out all the dust without hitting my shoulder to pave the way for me; If I can see through the world of mortals, I would like to be an idle flower, which blooms gently and shallowly, allowing the four seasons to alternate and bloom flowers to fall; If you can see through the world of mortals, you just want to drink a bowl of Mengpo soup and forget the past. From then on, a person's world of mortals will always be old; A person's city is impregnable, and a person's love is in vain. From then on, it is no longer dusty and heartless.
7. Time flies, many encounters and acquaintances will eventually become beautiful memories, and many vows will eventually be settled. No matter how many people who appreciate each other meet in life or words, how many will join hands forever? How many predestinations will leave a good one? How many stories will last forever? I have read such a sentence: all encounters in the world are for the final separation. Bloom flowers fall, meet and part are doomed!
8. The world of mortals is drunk for a thousand years, and lonely songs accompany you all your life. For you, I was drunk for a thousand years, pale with the fleeting and eternal love, and drunk with your charming smile like a thousand years of poetry and painting. Once the sea turned into a sad dream, and the fingertips inadvertently flowed for a thousand years. In a fleeting moment,
Question 2: How to write an antique article and a poem? The image of an antique article is actually the same as that of studying poetry before. It is through those common things to set off the atmosphere and achieve the purpose of shaping the image.
But the theory is actually empty talk. The most important thing in writing antique articles is actually accumulation and background. If you don't have enough accumulation and background, you can't write well by being taught by others. Therefore, if you want to write an old article, you should read more poems and classical literature and remember more. Antique does not exclude rote memorization. You remember to recite more. Those antique pictures will naturally come to your mind when you want to use them, and gradually you will have your own creation instead of copying them all. However, accumulation is a long process, and it is impossible to write an antique article overnight. There is no shortcut.
Image also comes from accumulation ... otherwise, even if you know what it is, it is difficult for you to write it in that kind of antique sentence ~
Because I write about ancient customs, I will give you a small example, such as writing a scene: looking up at the moonlit sky, the clouds are clearing away, and the mountains are rolling and far away, all shrouded in gray blue cloud curtains, and the traces are dyed into Gu Jian-like, silent and heavy colors by moonlight. Not far away, a cold water pool was gently swept away. It was the morning sun that gave birth to a mountain and a star in the water. Suddenly, there was a strong mountain wind and rustling trees. Occasionally, Wu's whistle was smoothed away with abrupt traces, bringing out some ethereal echoes, as if from the boundless nine days.
For example, the writer:
The blue and yellow son is holding a paper umbrella, and his joints are awkward. The rain is a little misty. From a distance, the whole person was blurred by milky white walls, gray-black eaves and foggy sky, leaving only a faint blue blur.
When he entered the teahouse, there was a moment of silence in the teahouse.
Walking in the rain for a long time, the whole person brought a little water vapor, and even the water vapor was somewhat arrogant between the curly hair tips, slightly curved eyebrows and clear eyes.
When writing about a person, we should pay attention to his integration with the whole environment.
In short, it is to write ancient styles, and accumulation is very important.
Antique material reference:
1 finally covered the world for the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. After the glory of China, it was just a scene, and the mountains and rivers were silent forever. -
A thousand years of fame, burying your life, exquisite country, ridiculous but no life.
-three phoenixes that once played here, so that this place was named after them. Those who failed to keep the appointment waited all night. From then on, Wan Li cried. -
It is much more bitter to sigh a hero with tears. Mountains and rivers are always silent, how can we be happy?
-5 Fenghua refers to quicksand, and old age is a period of time. -
Six nights of rain dyed the sky blue. Some people can create surprises without gestures.
Remember, the rosewood is still there, and I didn't go.
-8 Who sighs in the years?
-9 Han Xiao is vast, full of prosperity and sadness, frowning, destined to be a thing of the past.
-10 the world of mortals began to fill, and the mountains and rivers were boundless. Facing the initial heart, smashing nightmares is impermanent, and life is unparalleled.
-1 1 Jiangnan figure, Tian Shui Bi Cheng, Tianjiao's wish goes against his body.
-12 mountains and rivers meet and smile for you.
-13 If it is bumpy, there is no regret. -
14 The past events covered by years are fleeting and covered with a touch of sadness.
-15 in the flowers covered by years, everything is blank.
-16 is gone, and I am still guarding you on the other side.
-17 those bustling sad It will eventually become a thing of the past.. Please don't be disappointed. Ordinary is for the most beautiful.
-18 Your journey will never see my old age again. -
19 Long song was crying, for those promises that could not be fulfilled, for the deepest love in life, and finally dispersed into clouds.
-20 Walking in the sky with you, there are flowers everywhere.
-2 1 I am young and energetic.
-22 You should remember that year, weeping willows in the east of Mozi Los Angeles, Na Yue.
-23 the vast land is broken with a sword, where there is prosperity, where there is singing.
-24 Send a song to Jun, regardless of the end of the song.
-25 Who scattered the cigarettes and the vertical and horizontal ties? Listen to the string and break three thousand infatuations.
-26 The breeze is wet, and the tea smoke blows. Relive the old dream, the old friend has gone.
-27 Fire-dyed Maple Forest, song month, Qionghu, the first floor of Long song. Every year, before and after the flowers, a statue of mellow wine. Water falls red-violet, only Jade Qing heard it ... >>
Question 3: How to write an antique article without deducting 20 points? According to the theme of the composition you want to write. If you want to write something special, it depends on your language organization ability. What grade are you in? When writing a composition, you can think of a sentence or a word that appears in each paragraph. It's called a clue. String the full text and clues together, and add text modification. Writing a daily composition can be straightforward and natural.
Question 4: Ask for an elegant and beautiful essay. Satisfaction is a reward. Inscription: Smoke and bamboo dream of bright clouds and bright moon, and snow is blooming beside the small garden pavilion. The thin shadow is about to break, and the fragrance is endless.
I am used to smiling in front of people, as bright as the sunshine in March. Time is like a blink of an eye. How many people remember the place where they first met, from initial ignorance to final forgetting? The river of time slowly erases all traces, leaving only scattered words. ...
The scene is as good as ever, and I feel dead. Xue Mei innocent girl, once said disappointedly. Jade tube whimpers, pity is acacia. A lonely dream cannot be the end of the day. Join hands with * * * to enjoy the flowers.
Draw the ground as a prison and look forward to the legendary eternity. Liang Zhu's poignant beauty shows this infatuation with earthly love. Tears in the corner of my eyes are a peerless poison that breaks my heart.
In the middle of the night, the ice wheel disappeared and danced a few degrees away. Tears flying, accompanied by infatuation. I once hoped that the flowers would bloom undefeated and the fate would last forever. However, when bloom dies, people will break up at the end of fate, and how much affection will go with the clouds.
The purple world is infatuated with the world of mortals, and the tenderness is like a wind and frost cloud. The pen is very thin, and the heart between the lines is broken. The north wind is rustling, and I think long and stay. How many dreams do the world of mortals float and sink?
At that moment, I didn't raise a horse to beg for happiness, but to wait for your arrival ... when can I meet again in a cold winter? People who live in my heart are hidden in my memory. Whether you are the master of my life or a stranger who turns around, those memories are engraved in my heart. ...
At that time, turning over the mountains and water to turn to the stupa was not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road; At that moment, I soared to immortality, not for immortality, but for your peace and happiness. The whisper of Cangyang Jiacuo rang in my ear over and over again. Heartbreaking scenes are repeated in this sad melody. Spread an ordinary piece of paper with tears, and write down all the eternal feelings for you.
You see me, or you don't see me, I'm there, not sad or happy ... pieces of lovesickness are flowing, and I spend the Spring and Autumn with a little melancholy. The wind blows flowers like a dream, and it is somewhat lonely in it. Never forget the dream, the love of past lives will bloom this winter.
Snowflakes swirl and fall pure acacia. Like flying flowers, it is also sad, and it also lights up my endless thoughts in this life. That emotion can't be waved away and can't be cut off. At the end of the ice and snow, your face seems to be right in front of my eyes. But it's me, and I'll never get to the other side.
Rolling in the world of mortals, walking in sorrow and joy. When the sea smiles, it washes away all the lead in the prosperity, but it can't smell the faint fragrance floating in the sunset snow in Qian Shan.
A moment of suffocation makes you realize that love is an incurable disease. In the middle of the night, I realized that everything was just a dream of Conan. Finally, the dream suddenly became Meng Han. ...
Buddha said: knowing that you are gathering and scattered between your fingers, why cry? Knowing that everything in the world of mortals is a cloud, why infatuate with a dream? Knowing that the mirror is full of flowers and moons, why expect to spend the time with you?
Question 5: Aesthetical ancient prose, cut a window of time and send a message tomorrow.
In the time when the fingertips are fragrant, listen to the fleeting time, spread out the paper of memory, dye something deep in the soul and paste it into a painting. Wipe the past, cut open a window of time, all the way dusty, looking forward to a journey, so that a faint understanding, colorful years quiet agarwood.
-text/red dust smile
The night is slightly cold and hazy, and it's another year in a blink of an eye. There are festive fireworks by the window to enrich your thoughts, and the fragrant tea makes you feel graceful.
I seem to be used to thinking deeply and finding myself in such silence. The paper paved with memories will dye something deep in the soul and paste it into the painting. Whether it is good or bad, it is the trace of a person's soul after all.
Perhaps, when the world is noisy, many past events will eventually become clouds and clouds, and tears will fade with the wind. Listening to the vicissitudes of life, singing, suffering and being happy will turn into a smile in a blink of an eye.
There must be something in the flow of time. Let's cry together, laugh together, pursue together, explore together, stand on the other side of our thoughts, banish the years, quietly open our pens, and freeze the dreams and idiots, smiles and tears that have passed away in a trance in the window of our hearts, and slowly release some beautiful love and sadness in the gap of the years.
Slowly, I understand that life is a journey, everyone is on the way, and everyone is unconsciously living the scenery along the way. Many times, life is like water, the stone sinks into the sea, and the waves are stormy; Many times, if life is a dream, look back and dream happily. A handful of years, those silent past, will also be interpreted as a deep flow of still water in the world of mortals, winding the warmth and coldness of life.
Walking through the dusty world, singing quietly the calm years, dreaming, always supporting a long memory. In the time when the fingertips are fragrant, listening to the past, "moonlight at night, smoke on Wangjiang's face", some romance goes away in comfort; "There is moonlight in front of the window. Will it have frosted?" Some thoughts are just the warmth and softness in the heart; "Making autumn on rainy nights is in my heart, teaching him to cherish romantic love", and some of them are lingering in sorrow.
Slowly, I understand: people miss a lot in the journey, hurting the liver and intestines; There are many encounters that I can't forget. Some infatuation may lead to fatigue; Some searches, let it go with the wind, may be the most real. Some people are entangled in dreams, but they are suitable for the bottom of their hearts; Some things, let go gently, are not necessarily difficult; Some pass by, very light, very light, but very painful. ......
Looking forward to happiness with graceful words, polishing the finely divided days into a string of smiles, singing in the waves, putting troubles in the wind to let them quietly take away, and putting happiness in the clouds to let it quietly melt and expand infinitely, is it not an unparalleled happiness? My heart is simple, I am guarding a pool of fragrant flowers, I am carrying a roll of light, and the roads I have read are all translated as "go or stay unintentionally, swept away with the clouds outside" at a glance.
Only slowly do I know: in life, there are always many gullies to cross; Years, there are always many regrets to make up for; In life, there are always many puzzles to understand. Life is just a drop in the ocean for us, but it carries too many feelings, including meeting and parting, painful laughter, shouting and searching, because no one knows the final answer, so our only choice must be: laugh at the wind and watch the rain.
Touch the fleeting time, open a window of time, all the way dusty, looking forward to a journey, walking on the road, not to mention the pain, Mo Wen vicissitudes, just take one and move on. Whenever and wherever, remember: give you a warm side; No matter the ups and downs, remember: give yourself a smile, understand lightly and fly quietly.
Cut a time window and send a message tomorrow.
Question 6: Looking for the beautiful and ancient customs, I can't sleep at night, and the past is like a lifetime ago, quietly ending. Love is hard to beat, tears ask flowers to be speechless, alone to the empty boudoir, no one sighs. Lonely pillow invites loneliness, who calls frequently on the other side, let me trouble sleeping.
Xiaohe composition network ww
In the vicissitudes of life, the soul has nowhere to go, which makes people tearful and unforgettable. Smoke rising from the kitchen stove caused unspeakable worries. So is infatuation and ruthlessness Who pity me?
Broken string, looking back at parting, became a gray hate. Memory looks for traces of the old man, I don't know where it is. Full of tenderness, nothing grows, and my thoughts are confused. Open-minded, melancholy as a dream, falling red and fluttering, who will accompany me? Passers-by can't hold on, but the past is still there. I put it in my pen, feeling sad and resentful to myself, weeping willows and dancing in the wind. Confused and intoxicated with the fragrance of flowers, Xia Hong dreamed for thousands of years.
After a long silence, the spring breeze spread everywhere with typhoid fever, and the fingertips trembled. The night is long, my heart is sad, my eyes are drooping, and my scars are wet in the rain. A little sad, confused mood, passing clouds, flying dust, intermittent gibberish, unbearable to look back, lovesickness is light and thick, eyebrows are deep. Fingers are locked, so is sadness.
I followed you vaguely in my dream, and I woke up to know it was empty. Bloom has a splendid life in one season, but he hides it in his heart. Only I know whether it is true or not to say no attachment. All the flying flowers shed tears, and they have long hated the taste of parting, and now they are repeating the same mistakes. Don't have a taste, affectionate and heartless. The drizzle is worrying, the cuckoo's hoof is dying, but I listen to loneliness and wailing.
In my dream, I whispered, thanking Bloom, each for his own safety, never meeting each other, and paying homage to the lost glory. I fell into a desolate world, looking at each other from a distance with deep eyes, intoxicated and hazy. Heartbroken, romantic love, ethereal beauty, can't find the initial smile.
2/3 pages
Mourning songs float, like weeping and complaining, and the moon is full of mirrors. After all, it is destined to be passers-by.
No difficulty, endless thoughts, parting from sorrow. Forced to smile, sad silence, the vast sea, self-dumping. You left, and the memory in my dream burned my heart.
The beautiful image is blurred, the bright moon is in the sky, and there is always love and hate. Sacrifice incense, bury laughter, shed tears, daydream, listen to the rain, eulogize. Dreams are like the gorgeous beauty of butterfly dance, luxurious curtains, loneliness, tired leaves and sadness, drizzly Leng Yue. The meteor glides by, make a wish. On the shore, the flowers are silent.
The veil covers the haggard heart, and the graceful posture is only for dancing. Looking at * * *, the silence was broken. If the eyebrows freeze, fatigue will strike.
The horn blew cold, peeped at the spring in the air, rippled in the heart of the waves, and recited the sad words of the past. I'm still in love, I'm still sad and lonely. I am sad and immersed in the cool breeze. I forgot to pass by and never came back. I waited on the pillow alone and didn't want to talk. I have been calling for a long time, but I haven't seen anyone. My eyebrows are low and my temples are full of thoughts. In the distance, it sounds like a piano playing three or two times, and the words in my throat gradually fade away. The tune is affectionate, people are ruthless, and there should be no sadness like poetry. Before the song is over, people have dispersed, and their respective ends of the earth are silent.
When dusk came, I dreamed of butterflies flying in pairs. Outside the pavilion, it was empty and affectionate, and many sad words could not be finished. With a touch of the word "wounded setting sun", the wind and rain have come, and now it is calm. Indifference burns my heart and dust stains it. Looking around, it seems like yesterday.
As the years passed, beauty changed. No one asked, no one sympathized, no one remembered. ...
Question 7: Ancient beauties who require 300-400 words. When Shuang Yan flies obliquely, the golden willows in Chi Pan pass by, and the wings of peach blossoms are gradually plump, flying like bright red flags. Brother, this season is not hot, but you are riding a green horse and drifting away. It's still the season of peach blossom. In the hot and cold weather, I put on Luo's clothes that day. The folds of goose yellow and the tassels of water red, coupled with the purples of peach blossoms, are the wounds of the season. The ebb and flow of the stream constantly tells the past, and I quietly stare at the clear water. The peach blossoms by the water, they are like dancing teenagers, Pan Lang? Xiao Lang? Xiao Lang? Pan Lang? They spin, or fly, and even the dust comes out. Willow blows people's faces and peach blossoms burn. Within the three realms, all the flower trees are quietly welcoming the cycle of seasons. Peach blossoms are like noodles and willows are like eyebrows. Brother, at this moment, are you standing in a corner behind the flowing water of peach blossoms, with your hands twisted with pink cores, and plain clothes is like snow? You look down on the elves, watch them dance in your palm, and watch their worldly prosperity and detachment. ...
Looking back alone, the lonely palace wall, the bright moon still shines in the west wing. I seemed to see your face that night. I saw your face in the ripples when the string of silk bamboo was spinning low on the water. My lang, dressed in white soap armor, exhales like blue. I saw the young man riding a horse with a sword on the bank of Lop Nur, where the snow waves were flying. On the river bank is a plum tree in full bloom. Bai Mei wins snow, red berries are like fire, and pink jade-like stone is among them. It is the same color as Tianshui's mountains and rivers in Wan Li. I heard hooves. Is it an elegant Xun Mei person riding a donkey or a tourist riding a horse and stepping on the snow? Deep and shallow steps are scattered on the bank of Lop. Occasionally, some people break their shallow drunkenness into a mysterious smile on their lips. The bright moon in December shines obliquely on the west wing, and the fingers of fine fine jade slide over the harp. That deep and shallow footprint, that fiery red and fierce Xue Mei, in this night of flying dragons of 30 million, on this bleak wall with flowing strings and piano sounds, has mixed parting and gathering, as well as mixed sadness and joy. The belt is getting wider and wider Who is the thrush? Who knows if a tall building is lonely and heartbroken? My sense of smell is no longer sensitive, and I can't tell which are convex and concave snow marks, but I still have your warm footsteps; My body is thin, and I can no longer stand the years when Qin Yun visited Mei Qinxun ... 3. Autumn wind blows, and Jin Ju shakes you off to Nanpu. The mountain road twists and turns, but there is no end. What is that injury? A horse with five strings is less. Those sad, heartbreaking voices are the yellow rain that suddenly began to rain in the courtyard at dusk? Singing all the way, what comes winding is the trickle of the ancient temple in the mountain stream? Is the horn of the "horn bell" ringing for a long time, or is the sound of "circling the beam" constantly? Those graceful five-tone sounds are sometimes lingering and sometimes deep, like crying; Sometimes it seems like resentment and hope, and red tears are like rain. My lang, with the moment you turned around, my fingers became stiff, my steps began to falter, those timbres were indistinguishable, those scales were messy, and that was pink ... I was listening to the wind at the water's edge, and the wind was rolling, looking forward to climbing the mountain. Lang is missing. White clothes drifted in the sunset and were finally blocked by pavilions. In the middle of the night, the candlelight flickered with sleepless loneliness, the pale ancient road outside Luoyang banished the moonlight, and the falling maple leaves outside the stream dyed the story yellow, and my face was as old as moss. The night is too long to turn the past into frost. Dreams are in the distance, and a wave of clear water ripples in Dapeng Bay. Scarlet screen window, lonely palace wall, I curled up my thoughts into a lotus flower, and the flowers in one place flowed away with the moonlight. There is no thin scholar leaning against the bamboo path and chrysanthemum fence, and there is no Bai Xiaolang who shines on the lake by moonlight. I leaned against the railing, the red candle burned, and my fingertips were pale and cold. Tonight, even though I have hundreds of beautiful voices and customs, I can't make graceful notes at this moment. I think these three paragraphs are great. I hope I like them.
Question 8: As the beginning of the article, some beautiful sentences about ancient style and rhyme, if the water is 3 thousand, take a ladle of water. There are thousands of beautiful roses, but there is only one regret!
All sentient beings, confused by flowers, have changed many times, and how many people care about their old friends? The moon is short and round, and generations have changed. Who sighs for the moon? How many people shed tears when the flowers fell in bloom? Neon flashing, paper confused, a few people wandering around the corner! The world of mortals is rolling, where is my heart?
Sigh past lives, lament the missing of this life, wait for the love of the next life, the marriage of the third life, who is waiting on the platform of reincarnation after several cycles, accompanied by the other shore, accompanied by the loneliness and sadness of the third life!
Swear to the apocalypse, exchange my three fireworks for your lifelong confusion and marriage!
Years passed, thousands of years passed, thousands of years waited, and three generations passed. I, like a passer-by, appreciate how much sadness and change there are in the world. Since ancient times, several generations of reincarnation have become history, and I have experienced the sufferings of three generations. I can only look at them and say nothing. I have exchanged three generations of sadness for the opportunity, love and marriage of this life for me. The years of reincarnation are a few beauties, and the dazzling moment becomes a mulberry field. On the other side, flowers are always blooming, burning my lonely soul, but what is tumbling is my endless thoughts, and what is pressing is my endless persistence!
Standing on the embankment thousands of years ago, the waves beat against the rocks. Thousands of years of thoughts are mixed together!
Three-life love, Millennium reincarnation, Qionglou and vermilion attic; Shadows of bamboo forest, light solution to Luo Zhang, looking back at red leaves. Drunk in the battlefield, pointing out the country, laughing about the current situation, entangled for several years; Caressing a farewell, dancing a return of feelings, how much sadness, through vicissitudes, the moment when youth and beauty passed away, drunk dancing and snow? Taste the wine of past lives, sing the songs of this life, and complain about the unfinished acacia!
You, I'll trade three lives for your whole life.
The change of history has finally come. I thank God for giving me this opportunity. Somehow, I long for your love. After several cycles, you are still the same person, and you have never changed. You're still the same person I gave up three lives for a lifetime marriage. I'll wait for you in that ancient temple, just like then. Things have changed, but why didn't I see you coming and why didn't I meet you!
I cursed the heaven for failing me for one thousand years, and the golden halberd and silver hook reflected blood night, and repaired my armor for nine days, but the heaven failed me for three lives.
I shed endless blood and tears, blood dyed the sky red, the towering mountains red, the heavy mountains red, and ruined thousands of years of cultivation. I would like to make a thousand-year blood curse for the lonely souls and wild ghosts.
-I'll be confused and suffer for you all my life. ...
Long street pavilion, fireworks burst, I looked back by the light,
The moon flies, the world of mortals is rolling, and you sigh again.
Listen to the string break, only hate parting.
Rain or shine, three generations are sad and happy at a time.
Change your life with my three fireworks.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Change your life with my three fireworks.
The street is long and there are many fireworks. You look back with lights.
Short pavilion is short, the world of mortals is rolling, and I sigh again.
Who finally broke the string, the flower fell on the shoulder, trance blurred.
How many beauties have been worn out and how many pieces of acacia have been broken, leaving only blood-stained ink to cry in chaos.
The vast land is broken with a sword, and the prosperity is gone. Leaning against the clouds hides loneliness, even if others laugh at me.
Let him know everything and smile for you.
Send a song to you, don't invite people to get together at the end of the song.
Who scattered the smoke, who scattered the vertical and horizontal ties.
Listen to the string and break three thousand infatuations. Falling flowers, forgetting, once the wind rippled. If the flower is pitiful, it will fall on whose fingertips.
Lights and stars, sounds and songs are endless.
As beautiful as flowers and pure as jade, I can go back to the past, but I can't go back to the beginning.
Like this star is not last night, for whom the wind and dew stand in the middle of the night.
Butterflies are beautiful. After all, butterflies can't fly across the sea.
Hand over the mountains and rivers and smile for you.
When all the flowers and waves are gone, I will be alone with you.
You can look in the word control column if you want, tieba.baidu/...m=prin. ...