Indulge in this dream of the world of mortals alone, crystal water drops dripping from the corner of my eyes, reflecting a wonderful happy time. However, in this misty and rainy autumn, pieces of broken flowers and fallen leaves are gray and yellow, which makes people memorable. I poured out my inspiration and searched everything about you, but I didn't have time to touch it. Fallen leaves flying like butterflies are scattered in the corner of this city.
How far is the end of life? Never dare to give yourself a complete answer. All I know is that that acacia tree was planted for you on the road. I often write some poems and paint them on every branch of the tree. Even if the residual body falls, it is still a memory floating, crushing acacia and hanging tears. How many mornings and evenings, trying to carve the lost customs at every waking moment. In the old year, the scene was over, which hurt time. Looking back, I was lost in the wind and sand.
In my dream, I was reincarnated several times and my face was haggard. Lonely in late autumn, holding a lamp to the moon, tears like pearls, endless thoughts; Holding a plain pen and inking it, it is difficult to make a sentence. It's all nonsense. Years are mottled, flowers fall in one season, and generations stay sad. Bow your head and sigh, stumble, how many autumn winds are swept away, and thousands of strands of hair are messy. At this time, I hope that all worldly dust and smoke will drift away in the depths of dreams with the colorful autumn in Britain.
The vicissitudes of life, the years of Ran Ran, the noise and silence can't escape the disaster of the world after all, and the lingering shadow of the fleeting time will eventually condense the past of many mortals. At night, drunk. who is it? Let the dust of fate become a dream, heartbreaking? who is it? Let this world add a little sadness.
Let the night annihilate all the glitz and vicissitudes; Let the rain alleviate the sadness in this life; Let the wind smooth the remnants of the years; Let Qiu seal up your past and mine; Let dreams flow quietly like water; Give way to fate and cut off the world drunk every night.
Looking at the lonely world of mortals, I can't walk out of the dusty road of the castle, and I embrace my bitter heart in several times of disappointment. The blending of years has reconciled the lost bits and pieces into two or three lines. Words inadvertently reveal the good times we once had, but we can never find back the lost expectations. In this evening of broken dreams, the yellow line on the letterhead is how many stories there have been and how many broken hopes there are. With a flick of a finger, the clouds cleared away, but the past is gone forever.
In the sound of the turntable as time goes by, those stubborn thoughts have been whispering the warmth of the past under the beating of the wind and rain. I want to have a dream after dusk, embroider one wish after another into a cloud and sprinkle it on the eve of the steps, waiting for the passing wind to sprinkle it on the horizon with my greetings. No longer let the cheeks of dreams be covered with tears, and the night of missing is no longer full of sadness.
Old words and new wine, dark night worries. Don't ask where you miss, just go to the pavilion on the ancient road in the south of the Yangtze River. I said, don't rush the years, how many beautiful things you have hidden along the way. The clouds are gone, the dreams I woke up, and even the wind around me have come and gone without a trace. In the dark sky, the lonely geese sang a few times, leaving only those poor years, which are getting weaker and weaker in ink and wash.
The fragrance of missing is scattered in the glass of the past. Drunk all night, drunk all over the world, drunk and heartbroken. It is said that everything is a smoke cloud and everything will pass. Now, I seem to understand something. However, I miss you very much, with a little sigh and a little pain, in this lonely world of mortals, in this lonely life.
An autumn dust passed, and the sleeves with the wind became colder. Looking back suddenly, although my back is lonely, I will always look back. ...