Twist a piece of smoke, watch the clouds roll and relax, brew a cup of fragrant tea, savor the deep and shallow edges, cut an inch of time, quietly watch the flowers bloom and fall, you will accompany me hand in hand in the passing years, my heart, Feel at ease.
At night, as usual, have a cup of fragrant tea, close your eyes, let your thoughts permeate into the bleak artistic conception, and quietly appreciate the clear sound in the rising fragrance of the tea leaves. The fragrant ink on the pen and paper is full of thoughts, but I don't know how to draft it, nor how to put these deep feelings into words.
I miss you, wandering quietly in the corner of my thoughts. I want to know whether my figure has ever crossed my mind in your eyes, and I quietly return to the place where we once met in my dreams again and again. At the intersection, I look forward to being lucky enough to meet you again here.
It took five hundred times of looking back in the past life to exchange for passing by in this life. "I think, in that life, I don't know how many times I secretly carved your figure in my eyes, and I don't know how many times I prayed with your wishes in front of the Buddha. I stayed silently and waited for you through the years. , I don’t know how many reincarnations it took before I met you in this life in a dimly lit place.
I don’t know how to express my feelings when I first met you that day. I am so excited, and I don’t know what words to use to explain the throbbing in my heart when I meet you.
I am originally a floating leaf on the horizon, and you are a flower on the corner of the sea. White lotus, we are far apart, and it is impossible to meet each other. But somehow, fate is a coincidence, allowing me to fly across thousands of mountains and rivers in the wind, and accidentally stop in front of you and see you. Your beauty, your purity. My heart is moved, and I am even more intoxicated. I can't stop being willing to fall, and I am willing to let the raging fire burn me like this. No matter it is right or wrong, whether it is blessing or misfortune, I am willing to stay with you in this life. Stay, don't ask for eternal life, but ask for what you once had.
Holding a cup of tea, leaning quietly on the railing, staring at the stars in the sky, I believe that the brightest one must be your eyes. The fragrance of tea fills my mind with the graceful clear sound. I believe it must be the sound of your piano. The cool breeze blows, and I keep counting the dazzling neon lights, one or two... I don’t know which one.
Maybe you are the bright moon hanging in the sky at this moment. You are so pure and beautiful that you can’t reach it even if you try to catch it. , then, uncovering thousands of thoughts and quietly appreciating it in the deep nostalgia is also a kind of beauty and a kind of happiness.
Having such a you in my life makes me feel dark. There is light in the world. Because of you, the scenery is colorful. You make my long-frozen heart ripple like this. You, the willows Yiyi on the bank of the clear lake, there will no longer be the poems of three people.
You are you, you are such a unique one. In my heart, your beauty is incomparable. Instead, when I think of you, I will hold you quietly in my hand, gently feel your warmth, so gentle, so considerate, and then slowly spread it out, letting your fragrance quietly linger on me. Spreading in the world, so soft, so fragrant
It would be great if life could be like this for the first time, and there would no longer be a sad autumn wind in the world, in my thoughts. How wonderful it would be if the bleak and clear sound no longer accompanies the sadness of half-cut bead curtains, and the red flowers and willows over the years will no longer be mixed with the fall of autumn leaves. The freedom and freedom on the streets will no longer be lost in the haze of mist.
I like to fly with you in the fragments left by the ancients, and in the poetic and gentle artistic conception, I love to understand the ancient and modern classics. I like to walk with you in the alleys and willow lanes, wandering in the west wind of the ancient road. , showering with the setting sun and rising sun.
Nowadays, the mist and rain are passing by, mixed with the wind, bringing the smell of longing. The cycle of four seasons promotes the washing of hot and cold weather, and the flowers are picked up in the morning and evening, enduring the torment of day and night. .
The fallen leaves have dispersed, leaving behind a tree withered and blooming in the autumn wind. Its faint voice trembles with memories of the past, euphemistically vague and familiar.