(2) This song should only exist in the sky, and it is rare to hear it on earth. The emperor's eyes are always staring at her. ... high rose plum palace, into the blue clouds, and the wide breeze carries magical notes.
(3) The sound of Yangguan shook the trees, the three-layer orchestral strings were high and decadent, and the orioles sighed for three days.
(4) When people are happy and relaxed, there is a breeze blowing in their ears. From a distance, the sound of the piano lingers, but there is an emotion stirring.
(5) I waved my fingers to find my mirror table. Later, I found that all I was looking for was the wonderful piano sound between my fingers.
(6) fleeting shadows, songs of the wind, elegance of the moon, endless words, broken strings, blood of fingers, fixed rings, and the sound of the piano echoing in the bleak place.
(7) Melodious, like spring water in the mountains, spouting, stirring waves from time to time, touching the stones on the shore, greeting, whispering, and then continuing to flow forward.
(8) Her dexterous fingers play on the keyboard of the piano, and beautiful music pops up, sometimes bold and unrestrained, lively, sometimes euphemistic and delicate, which is really fascinating and intoxicating.
(9) Flowers fall on the moon, and people are thin. Under the same sky, who is watching the waning moon and drinking a glass of moonlight wine? For example, I leaned against the window to enjoy the moon, and the past was sad, the strings were broken, and the sound of the piano echoed desolately.
(10) The piano sound came from a distance, long and lingering, but there was an emotion stirring. Although the piano sounds like a complaint, all the quietest time, the brightest wind and frost, or the original appearance, are slowly flowing.
(1 1) The sound of the piano is the resurrection of the soul, pulling the heart into a condensed picture. In the silence, ginkgo trees stand high in the garden, singing autumn silently. The yellow leaves of Erythrina trees have already written the meaning of autumn, waiting for the wind to pick them up.
(12) The sound of the piano passes through a knocker covered with verdigris, a riverbank covered with fishing fire, a reed covered with fluorescence, an alley around the inn, an alley in the suburbs, a village entrance with a cold wind and quiet curtains.
(13) Slightly fat, sitting gracefully. The jade finger exploded, revealing a slender white jade finger, stroking the piano face and thinking deeply. The piano sounded in vain, euphemistically but resolutely, and the ticket came like noble water and gurgling rhyme. ...
(14) On a sleepless night, I strung up the vicissitudes of life left by the years with the glass-like moonlight, plucking the strings, wandering in the pool, causing ripples, and the sound of the piano crossed the years, time and thoughts.
(15) The sound made by fingertips, like a butterfly spreading its wings and flapping its smart wings, flows brightly, and it is like the distant sky outside the Great Wall, with clear light precipitation. ?