Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: spending the softest time with you
Summer is like the trade wind, kissing another passionate season again, summer is like sowing seeds, and sowing another season. A kind of green, summer is like a mission, making the flowers of spring ripe and fruitful. I like this time, bright and poetic. Just like the spring that just passed, so many flowers have made an appointment to bloom together, exuding a delicate fragrance of suitable intensity, which makes people intoxicated. Listening to the whispers of insects and birds, absorbing the fragrance of flowers blooming and dying, quietly savoring the mixed flavors of life, in the gentle and quiet early summer, a fresh and free happiness spreads lightly. The most beautiful season in the world, when all the greenery in life grows under the warm sun, all the flowers compete for beauty, and everything you encounter is full of warmth.
In the quiet night, the moonlight was as soft as water, floating gently through the window and shining on my bed curtains. Suddenly, the room added tenderness and romance, and a little more room for imagination. Sitting quietly in the embrace of the night, I stay in my desire to miss you, and you stand in my thoughts. The wind is flowing, I hold a handful of rose petals in the wind and put it in the palm of my hand, letting the colorful beauty dye the sky for you and me red, and thinking about the scenery of the street in the distance makes people feel warm. I long to breathe the same air as you and look at the scenery you see every day. That kind of attachment, that kind of care, breeds a smiling rose. The swaying fragrance of the flower takes my thoughts flying in the scenery with you, wandering around you, making longing become my most beautiful scenery.
Holding a cup of dense tea in my hand, the fragrance of the dense tea is full of tranquility. I boil your figure in the tea, savor the taste of tea and longing for you, set off the care, walk through the branches of the years, Sow the seeds of deep love for a lifetime, and plant the seeds for a lifetime of waiting. Love will eventually fall from the snow to the dust, and then a flower will bloom in the dust. This flower of love, pinned to your chest, will always carry fragrance on your clothes. When the years have dried up its beautiful appearance, what remains is the most vast and profound. Walking quietly in the kingdom of words, a piece of paper records the encounter of three thousand poems, full of colored glaze. Every warm word and every heart-warming chapter flows with an unforgettable story. It is painted with the color of a rose with the flowing colors of life, and the poetry of the flower fragrance gradually becomes a poem.
A bright moon hangs in the sky, adding a silvery light to the hazy night. The tender picture slowly unfolds, and the lingering past is the eternity of memory. Every wisp of tea fragrance, every lonely flower blooming, is the flow of my love. The moonlight is like the sea, projecting on the heart waves, there are ripples, deep intoxication, and unknown thoughts lingering in the eyes. At this time, silence is better than sound. How to entangle it, it trickles into the heart. Pour a cup of autumn thoughts, drink the drunkenness of the night, drink the fascination of the wind, drink the charming feeling between my eyebrows when I miss you. Everything is destined to be a reunion after a long separation. It is destined to be a testimony of love that grows with time. It is destined to be filled with the fragrance of jasmine and will be unforgettable.
The moonlight is like water, tender and sweet, and the vast horizon is as pale as a painting. When I look back, I smile like a happy flower, with deep affection between my eyebrows. The thoughts of morning bells and dusk drums shuttle through the clouds, swaying the glass into a quiet and beautiful color. I stop, look at the long sky, and have the beauty of faint fragrance floating in the sky. I lean on the railing and let the moonlight kiss away my thoughts. This shore and the other shore, thoughts are hidden in my heart. Deep in the fleeting years, the water flows slowly. Your love for me is as warm as the spring breeze, as crazy as the summer rain, as stubborn as the autumn flowers, and as fragrant as the winter plums. You understand my loneliness when the flowers fall, you understand the tears in my eyes, and you understand my unswerving love. A flower in one's heart, supported by two hearts, a piece of paper filled with the fragrance of ink and intoxicating love. This kind of understanding is compassion and the beauty of the broad agreement between life and death and the theory of Zicheng.
In gentle times and simple days, pick a branch of red flowers, pick up a piece of spring scenery, take it home, and insert it into a bottle. I hope the pleasant fragrance of the flowers will intoxicate my thoughts and let me use it. Tenderness like water protects this spring flower. Recite a piece of time farewell book, line by line, shallow and deep, and the intricate lines embroider the brocade of the years. I have seen the most beautiful red sunset, I have seen the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, I have seen the deep red fall all over the path, time stays on the old threshold of acquaintance, my eyes are full of longing, I continue to write a paragraph of the sun and moon in my hand, the light and shadow in my pen, ripples Circles, walking through the various styles. The writing is shallow, the fragrance of ink is faint, the person is far away in the world, and the heart is close at hand. You are the hometown that I care about all my life. You are the tenderness that I can't describe. I give birth to charm for you, and I shed dust for you.
The flowers on Moshang are enchanting, full of fragrance and affectionate. Thoughts are like flowers, clear and fragrant, refreshing and moistening the passing years. The thoughts of the spring breeze are swept away to summer. That is your subtle reminder, the gentleness that stretches over time and caresses my heart. Or, take the thoughts of a pink peach blossom and sneak into a curtain of dreams on a summer night. The quiet and good years carry the red paper of lovesickness, and the years are written to write down the love of a lifetime, allowing the sincere voice to flow through the pen, and the simple words to spread gently. A warm and fragrant relationship, a tender lifelong attachment to each other, the lingering love ripples in the intoxicating laughter, moisturizing the mind and being drunk and moved. Qingqing Zijin, my heart is long, only for you, I still miss you. Words flow through the years, drunkenly embrace the wind and moon, you are the encounter of my life, you are the love of my life. If the heart is there, the dream is there. If the love is there, the love will last forever. If there is love in the heart, it will be a sunny day!
Cut out a period of soft time, plant the fragrance of your heart, and in that faint smile, flowers of longing will bloom.
Then, in the silence of my heart, I counted the bits and pieces left by the years, and what touched my heart was not only the falling red petals, but also the treasured touch of warmth. Maybe, in this life, all the waiting is just for a promise from the end of time; maybe, in this life, all the feelings are just for a look back at the eternal life. What touches my heart is not only the falling red petals, but also the treasured touch of warmth. From then on, the days were cut into paragraphs, and each paragraph was related to you, and there would be thoughts about you, passing through the lintel of time and space, and falling quietly in my tender heart.
Summer is not only a romantic season, but also a dreamy season. In the dream, there is your smile and my dependence; there is the green shadow of the wind and the appearance of the flowers; there is the crystal clear water and the bright light. In the season with you, the heat of summer disappears; in the season with you, my love flies in the romantic clouds and the meticulousness of eternal articles.
The road is long and the water is long, sometimes it is flat, sometimes it is overlapping mountains, sometimes it is clear breeze and bright moon, sometimes it is foggy. Along the way, we all need the care and nourishment of Nuan. We should rely on Nuan to travel to the depths of the years, because the meeting of two people is the blooming of warmth. I have seen the warmth and coldness of the mortal world, I have admired the spring flowers ten miles away, and I have transformed into a scene with you, and I have become a painting with age.
Love is ordinary life, and you can feel its tears and laughter. They are so real and sad, so beautiful and joyful. By the Meishi River, you came with a wisp of dark fragrance and sang songs. By the magpie bridge, I held a wisp of bright red and walked against the water. I know your heart and accept your female love. Deep in the chaos of red, I interpret a true and peaceful love. , living an ordinary life of Su Jin. The persistence and warmth brewed romance, and the ink fell all over the city, intoxicating the whole Jiangnan. What is tranquil is the warmth of blooming flowers, what is refreshing is the faded darkness of intoxication. Let's have a drink together, let's enjoy the full moon and the chrysanthemums on the east fence. Then, put it down carefully, be happy with a cloud, worry with a tree and flower, as big as a mountain, a river, a river; as small as a porridge, a meal, a mat and a quilt. We never get tired of looking at each other and never get tired of seeing each other. Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Meeting you at the ferry of mortal world
Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Meeting you at the ferry of mortal world
The moonlight is alluring, the fragrance fills the sleeves, and the night of lovesickness is so lonely. The long time, the tranquility of the moon and the mist of tea add a bit of poetry. My thoughts bloom quietly in the clear moonlight. Sitting at the window, a touch of gentle moonlight infiltrates the bookcase, and a silhouette of the curtain makes the quiet night beautiful. Sitting upright in the tranquility of the music, picking up a pen and ink, smelling the fragrance and sipping tea, my heart is filled with a warm taste, and the fragrance of jasmine spreads along the veins and every inch of my skin. The soft melody carries the fragrance of the words directly to the soul. It is recited slowly and slowly, like pure spring water overflowing the paper. Just like this, quietly in the depths of time, savoring the joy alone, thinking lightly, writing down the landscape and affection in your heart, every word is precious, every sentence is deeply affectionate, and the heart that is missing you, can you feel it?
Facing the west window, watching the moon rise and set, and listening to the wind passing by the cornice. My heart was quiet at that time, so quiet that I could clearly hear the beating of my heart and the commotion of my blood. I miss you in this quiet winter night; I miss you in this lingering moonlight. Sit under a quiet moonlight, put your affectionate words into words, use the ink of longing to stretch out in the pen, and gently read your thoughts in the quiet night. Missing you is like a flower walking freely, and a warmth will rise in my heart, just like sitting around a red stove, inexplicably thinking of your name, mumbling words, and feeling hot in my heart. The fragrant petals of heart bloom on the road of your heart, turning into the melting moon on the sky, sending you tenderness and driving away the fatigue all over your body.
Thousands of miles of smoke, suddenly looking back, how many lingering thoughts flowed gently with the moonlight, clear and transparent in the entanglement. Fate, turning mountains, rivers, pagodas, meeting in this life is the most beautiful, flowers bloom for a season, warm to tears. In the misty rain and mortal world, you are on the other side, and I am on this side, painting a landscape and planting a curtain of lingering dreams. The lingering love is fluttering like wings, and the treasure falls in the palm of your hand. You care, cherish, and are in my heart. My soft heart is looking forward to it in the coolness. I trace it again and again in my heart, and it becomes the mountain in my heart and the water in my heart. No matter how far the road is, it feels like it's just around the corner. The happiness is fleeting, the graceful eyebrows are smiling, and the thoughts are boiled in water. The rice paper is the proof, the pen and ink are the evidence, and the fragrance of the paper is staring at it.
The clock is ticking, passing by second by second, expressionless, neither slow nor hasty. The most beautiful time is the fragrance blooming in the crook of the eyebrows, and a flower filling the air. With a delicate fragrance, the light and elegant white color dances lightly with the sound of flowing wind. A window of deep love, recalled tenderly, fades out a touch of poetry in the clear and sparse shadows, gently spreads, and then quietly folds up, expressing a word, splashing a line of ink rhyme, falling in love with a city, all-consuming tenderness. Turn your thoughts into trickling water, flowing in the words; turn thousands of emotions into scattered stars, dotted with moonlight in the night sky. In the quiet night, only the missing heart is still jumping for joy, not feeling sleepy. Let the fragrance of tea linger, the room is full of fragrance, and a heart lingers deep in the words, because there is you, me, and love here.
The years are clear and light, and the time is fleeting. There are thousands of knots in the heart, traveling through the contours of time and space, spreading out the plain paper of memory, and picking up the bits and pieces of life. Going around a lifetime of encounters, there is a red smile on the stone steps of fate. Thousands of miles apart, we are strangers in the world, a word of fate, a heart-to-heart encounter, the sun is shining, the spring is warm and the flowers are blooming.
The heart and soul, embracing love in the depths of time, turn into the rhythm of the heart, the whisper of the wind, slowly swirling a curtain of dreams, the attachment to the dusty heart, the slender fragrance, the fate in life, blossoming into blossoms. flowers, lightly overflowing with your fragrance. When I encounter a warmth, the cold air is also filled with the breath of spring, which is warm, warm and quiet. When the words hit my heart, there is still a clear spring, flowing slowly, calmly, but most affectionately. With the original intention, stay together day and night. The time infused with the fragrance of ink is elegant and charming. Calm the soul in the deep soul and give the soul a home to return to.
Time passes beautifully, and years pass by. How much light is light on the fingertips; how many years are flowing in the pen; how much prosperity is still prosperous after the flowers have bloomed and withered; in the world of fireworks, there is a you who is willing to stop chasing for me and meet me in the color of the water. In the passing years, bathing in the clear dew of the moonlight, I whisper my original heart into a song. Put the thread of your heart in the palm of the years, gaze, and depict the broken thoughts in your heart into paintings under the most beautiful pen tip. In this life, I will only be the only tie in your heart, treat you with sincerity towards the moon, and treat you with tenderness. Listen to the murmur of the wind in the time, let me write poems and paintings in your palm, and have sex with you. Water ends of the earth. You promise me a lifetime of happiness, and I promise you a lifetime of warmth.
Flowers bloom for several seasons and fall for several seasons. Time is unconsciously wrapped around the years. We shuttle through it, coming and going, in and out. With the greenery of spring, the warmth of summer, the golden color of autumn, and the coolness of winter. You will definitely be able to find your own piece of heaven. Smiling with warmth, being grateful for meeting, and moisturizing the fingertips. These days spent together are also wonderful in life. Let the dense feelings of ink and wash flow with the initial touch, on this shore and the other shore, hidden in the heart. Gratitude, time does not grow old, you are well, I am still the same. Some destined fates will always meet at the destined ferry in the world of mortals. Come or not come; see or not see, all in that loving heart, it warms all the vicissitudes of life's journey. Let all the joy and tranquility bloom into blossoming crimson poetic rhymes, a frame of fleeting whispers, clear feelings through the glass, one thought of warmth, and then another thought of fragrance.
Thinking of someone is a sweet hope, exaggerating the depth of love like the sea, and the words of longing wander in the heart. The hand I can't hold can feel tenderness, the face I can't see can feel your smile. Dreams are like cicada clothes, hearts are like glass, the colorful world is bathed in romantic feelings; in the mountains and rivers of fate, melodious piano music is played; in the changes of seasons, the fragrance of wine encountered by chance is considered, and there is a mellow brewing, which is a kind of Waiting intoxicatedly, never too late or too late, to dream of an eternal and unchanging country. I wish to act according to my heart, allow time to last forever, allow me to be calm and relaxed in a pure world, and wait for the years to cut out a piece of beauty for me and weave a beautiful scene of my time. Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Enjoy the joy of spring with you***
Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Enjoy the joy of spring with you***
1.
A thousand red clouds and the time that cannot flow back cherish each other. Whose song was borrowed by the fluttering clouds and fell into the mortal world, turning into crystal rain. The mirror flowers and water moon in the poem have broken many spiritual wings. It must know that your dreams can also fly, but the dreams of young people and the dreams of pregnant girls have never overlapped.
You write down a line of soul's whisper, and give me a moment of tenderness. I stepped from the miserable winter snow into the vibrant spring. Cover your face and cry for the beauty and love abandoned by the poet. Your deepest loneliness comes from your gifts, because all the sorrow in life comes from joy. And people who are intimately involved in joy are more likely to be sad.
I can’t read the honesty of your soul, so I don’t have to face your loneliness, and I don’t have to apologize to you. However, I misread your poem. Originally I should have waited in silence, but instead I answered with a song. When I miss the warm language of flowers and trace the snowy dream in a dream, where are you chasing an elusive mirage?
If I have misunderstood your loneliness, please forgive me for my honesty. I want to sit in your spring and draw a pair of bright eyes on a piece of wet rice paper. From now on, I will drink and talk happily with you at the end of the world and the spring that is just around the corner.
2.
The world is still good, and I depend on you. The world imitated in my poems is no more profound than your dreams. Is there always a person in this world who can be awakened by your deeply buried memories without you having to travel far, just sitting close by on a spring day? He is like a star in the vast starry sky, but he has gained a profound peace because of the changes he has experienced over the years.
A tree grows along its nature, looking forward to a happy tomorrow. I hold a spring lantern, walk on the mirror of my soul, sit on the stars, and listen to the tranquility of birdsong. Your human world, under the caress of the annual rings, silently loves and rejoices with the lonely soul. My starry sky is like a mermaid plunged into the deep sea, looking for the only lighthouse and swimming freely.
My world is so small, only my soul is with me all the way. The smoke and rainbow in my hometown are like last night's stars. I imagine a pair of white wings can hold them and fly. Imagine that the fleeting poems will not be modified by the hurried light years, set off on time, spread your wings and fly high towards the doomsday sun.
Has anyone ever had a conversation with God? At least I have never been close to God. I have been lost in a foreign land, witnessing the changes in reality, the law of the jungle and the strong, and intrigues.
The beauty of the past could not withstand the cruelty of reality and disappeared. The lake in the old years was like an orchid boat floating in the sea, filled with the joys and sorrows of the world, sailing in the wind. Reach out and you can no longer rely on it.
Is there a ray of light that can illuminate my night and burn my world into day? Is there a kind of love that is eternal and remains silent and joyful in my world? A walking poet rarely looks back, just like his former home that is drifting away, sooner or later it will become a vague mark in your life. When you step towards a city, the next stop becomes the past. When you are obsessed with the eternity of time, the joy and sorrow that you shed will not be shorter than a drop of tears.
3.
A lonely lake cannot hold a pair of soulless oars. The vast memory, trekking through the wind and rain, brings the amnesiac wanderer back to reality from his dream. In my April, magnolias bloom and fall red all over the ground. Is the title page of your soul stained with the tears I shed in my dreams, moistening the few words I wrote to you?
The wind at dawn brings the message of spring. Every flower blooming ceremony is a late beauty. How many people write spring poems in loneliness, but they can't retain more joy, only a touch of sadness. And how many people in this world can listen quietly to the joys and sorrows of their souls? I would like to live in the fragrance of a flower, looking forward to the grand ceremony in the coming year and the eternity of the moment.
The road signs of life all point to the past. Your eyes travel through lost dreams, returning from a poem about falling rain to the wet last night. Every star embraces a lost soul. And every sunset, I am looking for the star that belongs to me in the world.
How lonely the cold world is, how crowded my life is. Who is it that took away the bright flame from the poet's body, buried the ashes of the soul in the verses of the coming year, and projected my wave heart? I am determined to compose peach blossom as a spring poem, and call falling red as the front edge. I only wish that more moonlight, carrying lanterns with stars, would light up the only light in the dark night for me.
If you call time life, then years of sorrow will live in the empty wilderness. How hasty your steps are, how monotonous your life will be. The lotus you drew in the poem has already grown into a lovely and lovely shape. But my love has been ground into the blush on your cheeks by the endless time, turning attachment into the smoke of the world, dissipating with the wind.
4.
The smoke from my hometown spreads across the legendary horizon, exchanging glasses with a collection of fragrant words. The old friends who have returned to their hometown gather together the wonderful memories that have lasted for many years, implant their attachment and hope for their hometown into the ribs of the night, and sing the unchanging fragments of this life in the light that never closes their eyes. I saw that my shadow, together with my poems, turned into the smoke of my hometown, planting the seeds in my former home in this life.
I love moonlight and all paranoid beauty. When the day goes by, you hold bright fireworks and stroll through my world. Those words that meet by chance are lingering and fragrant, holding the wasted years and weeping. My dreams have never gone far, but your dreams are too far away from me. How can I kiss your dreams and cuddle up with you in your dreams?
If time had not gone far, would those sleeping waves flow in each other's hearts? The vast starry sky stirs up the dust of my former residence, but cannot sustain a single word of fate. The poems in your dreams have never allowed the real poems to grow in your spring. Where will those quatrains that have never bloomed hibernate?
The aphasic man in the wind staggers away carrying a lantern in the dark night. I hug myself tightly and give my soul over. Do you know that I have been living in a dreamland of flowers in the mirror and moon in the water, following the steps of spring, hoping for the next sunny day. However, the sunny day you promised me was nowhere to be seen. I can only spread a piece of brocade paper and draw an eternal sunny day for myself. Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: The most beautiful time, meeting you
Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: The most beautiful time, meeting you
Meeting is the result of fate, in the most beautiful years, meeting the most beautiful person Okay, you, be the protagonist in the story. What a joy it will be when beauty meets beauty, sincerity meets sincerity, and the right you meet at just the right time!
The world is both big and small, and there will always be such unexpected encounters. At a certain intersection, with the fate of three lives, the wind of emotion blows, and I meet that heart-beating string sound. Such a beautiful time, the most beautiful encounter, I just hope it will be a story that will be remembered hard in the golden years.
Everyone has a journey, it is the graceful time, it is meeting you. It is very similar to the ancient mountains, ancient myths, and science fiction worlds. The souls of past lives are looking for the destination of love, looking through the three-life stone, pursuing a thread of love, and the deep love of Weiyang.
The most beautiful time, when we meet, the years give us tranquility, we are accompanied by gentleness, the flowers fall deliberately, and the fragrance lingers in a corner, at the intersection where we meet. One is a shy flower with a closed moon, one is fluttering in clothes; one is a fairy flower in Langyuan, and the other is a flawless jade. The fate has its destination, looking for the love link of the previous life, and continuing the unfinished love. Love can dance lightly, until it reaches the vicissitudes of life, and reaches the end of the world to the scenery at this time. Can I keep this love-filled water and gently let the years stand still, with no more changes, no more abandonment, no more dim tones?
If you can, if you can, cultivate in the next lifetime, at the ferry of fate, hold on to the opportunity of acquaintance, and wander around in your life!
If possible, under the waiting sky, stand as a tower of eternity, stand as a tree, the seasons change, remain unchanged forever, just to wait for you, just for you to pass by!
If possible, I will cultivate myself for thousands of years in exchange for one look back in this life, just to meet you in the most beautiful time.
Relying on time, every word passes by, still as gentle as water, like a breeze Come slowly, the tenderness around the fingertips, gently and quietly across the lake's thoughts. In the sound of joy; in the alluring night with moonlight and breeze; picking up a draft that has been submerged in the years. In that place is the song of meeting, the most beautiful years, and the meeting is wonderful.
Thousands of strands of green silk pass by the heart; a line of heart-felt love dyes the west wind with ink; the strokes of a pen turn into flowers, and the twisted words turn into poems. Every word is precious, the understanding of the past life is the fate of endless love. That tender water, after turning eighteen turns, returns to the starting point and reminisces about the beginning
It turns out that the first acquaintance, the first you , determines the ending of the story. No matter how you change the plot, you can't get around it or escape the fate of that circle. After twists and turns, under the sky of longing, a glimmer of hope sails, looking for the journey of the past life, sailing to think about you, sailing to the island with you, reaching the distance to the end of the world.
One thought, one eternal thought, writing quietly, trickling water, turning into acacia ink, washing and dyeing the rice paper of memories before the case.
Paintings of beautiful scenery, lingering beautiful encounters, in the most beautiful time, the most beautiful years, holding the fate, singing the song of acquaintance, facing the morning light, bidding farewell to the sunset, hand in hand for a journey in the evening drum and morning bell, it is enough!
There was such a beautiful time, with you and me, with love and affection, and with the warmth of a smile. If we walked together, we would be able to live a lifetime!