The flowers bloomed on the street, who promised me a lifetime of Chang'an
That year, the flowers bloomed, and I stranded the lingering fragrance, just waiting for the dust to bloom
That year, the flowers fell. I am quietly leaning on the world, just waiting for the fleeting years to fall together
The fleeting years are half window, eagerly waiting for a flower to fly all over the sky
The pillow is lightly cold, the flowers are blooming on the street, who promises it My whole life in Chang'an
----- Inscription
How many words are there, locked between the eyebrows, how much melancholy, sighing at the dimming of the moon, the earth and the sky will never be deserted, the traces will return The cloud never returns. My hair is white on my temples, and the years are passing by. I am tainted by lovesickness in my dreams. I love butterflies in the fragrant green grass. I listen to my sorrow and heartbreak on the night of departure. Where will the dreams of the past and present go? In the lonely morning and dusk, who allows me to live in peace for the rest of my life?
Waiting has nothing to do with memories, it has gone through many changes. The strange world, drifting in the silent world, many years later, I was forgotten by the years, the distant echo swam across the other side of time, that faint dream, the faint fragrance of clear chants, lingering in the dream, from now on it is just an endless wait .
The spring flowers are dyed with vermilion, and the March flowers bloom coldly. From now on, the fleeting time will keep the distant view as a wisp of mist, and the misty rain will from now on be the pain that cannot go away. From now on, the boundless world will count the spring flowers to bloom. The icy blue moonlight, passing through the silence of thousands of miles of mountains and rivers, and the gentle breeze at every step, led to the heart-breaking music of the Three Plum Blossoms. So, I stood alone in the empty city and raised my sails. At that moment, who would give me hope? The building was empty. Looking through the autumn water, who will allow me to live in peace for the rest of my life?
The stationed sky covers time. Shadows walk in thinness, the ink-colored dusk in my poems and poems sways into sadness, the shadows scattered in memory, messy in the floating ground, sweeping away the last trace of darkness, from then on towards forgetfulness, the days full of floating and sinking, I have never been able to study ink in my life. From Lihentian. The silent night sky blends love and hate into the thick ink, and between the lines, the hurt between the eyebrows is hidden.
Wandering and wandering, I will never reach your other shore. The memories are still the same as before, and my steps are slow. I stand in the bustling city and miss each other without any trace. The traces of turning around are hard to find. Today is not yesterday, the dream is still the same as before, and the moon is full and sublime. , How can we forget each other in this world of strangers? The still water is silent, the sky is stained with thick ink, a vast memory, the mottled light and shadow of the ten-mile long street, the loneliness of a person's fallen flowers, the end of the world after turning around, who allows me to live in Chang'an for the rest of my life?
After questioning the autumn wind, seeing all the fallen leaves stained red, the story is still the scenery in the bustling world. The promises in life are all missed, and I desperately hold on to time. The traces of time escaping are just to promise the old answer of time. The lonely words, the riverside of time, tomorrow will no longer be the same world. In the memory of Chicheng, the young man chasing the wind has disappeared. The beautiful years are remembered lightly, the youth is floating, and the sadness is over. In the castle next to each other, who will promise me forever?
Hiding in the moonlight night, passing through the cold dawn. The hometown in memory is the sound of pattering rain, an umbrella-like sycamore, the longing in the breeze, the concern is growing day by day, the clear tiles and adobe bricks, the faint smoke from the kitchen, are the laughter piled with happiness. Spring and Autumn have come and gone, and the efforts of my parents have taught me how to support the hardships of life and how to transform the future. I think about it in the quiet night, and the years are wasted. Yesterday was still the same, but now I think about it with a lot of heartache.
The past carries the empty heart, and there will always be a lingering warmth in a special day. The quiet loneliness is marked by the long night of dreams, and the passing time goes away melodiously, holding myself in my arms. The shadows are like falling flowers in a dream. In the sparsely populated long street, after the glitz and glamor, there are only a few dim lights. The back of the shawl among the fallen flowers is still the same in the world. The memory of falling flowers is as before. There is only the loneliness of falling flowers, looking back with a sigh, and the flowers blooming in the fleeting time. Looking at the beautiful scenery, I feel pity for myself, and my heart is helpless. Who allows me to live in peace for the rest of my life.
The photo album that preserves the memories, the woman as quiet as water, clearly shows the innocent face, there are so many innocent feelings. Time, the hidden beauty has withered the years, how much innocence is gone . How many years have passed, but the memory of that lost innocent time is just painful. How many times I look back and just sigh, the old black time, a rush of flowers falling into dust, walking through the paleness of life, walking through the dust with ease, the fleeting years, who let the time go forever?
The fleeting bookmarks are painted with the darkest color, looking forward to the pen and ink to cover up the beauty of a lifetime, looking back thousands of times with tears, watching the flowers fall and bloom in the dust. Standing by the Wangchuan River for a long time, it is for the sake of forgetting each other in the vast sea of ??people. The sky and the earth slowly watch the remaining flowers gradually fall, the gathering and dispersing affection, the scattered petals are lonely and fall into the cold autumn, the sighs in the wind have no trace, the forgetfulness of the river is long-lasting regret, the lights of the flowers are lonely, the autumn flows to the end of winter, the sigh of departure Flowers fall, time and space turn around for an appointment, who will promise Chang'an for a lifetime.
The bitter fingertips are surrounded by smoke and clouds, and the butterflies are gone with the wind. Thousands of figures, experience the end of the song in loneliness. The hazy distant mountains were written into the mundane world of the past as the years passed, and gathering and parting became the most desolate plot. I have lost a lifetime of longing and can't bear to be separated. The traces of moisture cannot be erased from my memory. The figure that haunts me is the cloud and mist of the past that cannot be retained. Persistence, writing a pen of affection, we have no hope of meeting each other, who will cross the other side with me, and promise me Chang'an for the rest of my life.
The sun sets over the western mountains, and the light gray clouds form a perfect lone line. The poetry of a curtain of mist and rain is a fragment of those years. The fireworks are brilliant, the moon is setting in the dusty sky, a dream comes to life, the flying flowers are scattered and leave people sighing, a lonely piece of paper.
The wind of the season is waiting outside the clouds. The beautiful colorful pictures of the sunset are filled with poignant chords. The landscape is dynamic, and the ever-changing poignancy remains in my heart. After walking through the wind and moon and looking at the scenery, The indifferent tidbits lasted for several years. I can't see the setting sun turning back, I can't meet each other in the autumn setting by the river, I can't even say a word to my shadow, I can wash away the beauty, I can see the clouds and smoke in Beijing, the love and moon will never end, and the time will pass by half a window, who gives me the wait, the perseverance, who allows me to live in Chang'an for the rest of my life.