The autumn wind has gone from far to near, the high and low autumn moon has risen, the deep and shallow autumn rain has fallen, and the thick and faint autumn is near. I like autumn very much. Is that thick green your eyes? Is that pale red your shy smile? Is that dancing leaf your dancing heart? Is that faint fragrance your enchanting beauty?
Bamboo shadow by the window, orchids send fragrance with the wind. The wind will drift for a while and the smoke will be high but not bad. Raise my misty eyes, pick an orchid, pour a cup of fragrant tea, and wander alone in the embrace of autumn. I am happy and naughty, like a naughty child, swaying romance and freedom, singing poems in the wind, singing songs in the rain, holding a lamp in drunkenness, watching a sword in a dream, and turning this autumn into a thousand-day wine.
Castle peak at the door, white clouds at the door, bright moon in front of the window, cool breeze blowing the seat. Leaning by the window, holding a paper in my hand, cooking tea and talking with my good friends, I was very happy this night. Talking about ancient and modern times, quietly playing around mountains and rivers, drinking tea and wine, suitable for leisure. Happy years, autumn night talk, endless joy, only hate the short days. Lying high in the restaurant, the red sun does not wake up the poem; Books are full of flower pavilions, and white clouds are always fragrant.
Polygonum multiflorum and white apples form a school of autumn colors, and it takes a few minutes to decorate the autumn colors. Colorful autumn scenery makes me stop, happy and sweet autumn makes me intoxicated, charming autumn makes me think, and romantic and warm Qiu Ge makes me linger. I like singing songs about wine and singing poems in the breeze. I am lost in this deep autumn, and I am also lost in this deep autumn. I am transformed into an autumn lover. And that autumn, because of my infatuation, not only gave birth to lofty sentiments, but also gave me all kinds of care and love for autumn.
Autumn is warm, sunny and warm. Bathed in this autumn sunshine, I am drunk for autumn, and autumn smiles at me. ...
Lonely whispers in late autumn.
This autumn, I am a little lazy. I am too lazy to draw my eyebrows, change clothes, read books, watch discs and talk, but my tears flow more frequently.
This autumn, I have a little amblyopia. I can't see mountains, water, clouds and the moon, only you.
You, are you a book? Beautiful and elegant, smiling at ancient and modern times, lingering in my sky, the book is overflowing, the tea is overflowing, the wine is chanting, and the harp is harmonious.
You, is that a song? Lang Lang Ming, long aftertaste, dripping with me, dancing, petals stained with clothes, fragrant grass, good scenery, good day.
Are you the wind? Slowly, slowly, it is warm and warm, and it gently surrounds me. The wind dances at dusk, the fragrance is full of sleeves, and the heart is fragrant and enchanting.
You, is it raining? When filar silk does not move, it moistens things silently and covers me tightly. The rain wet the swing, light and green, blowing flowers and chewing the core, counting the return date.
Are you a sword? Rainy, unrestrained, shaking me vigorously, firm but gentle as a rainbow, full of books and flowers, a touch of tenderness, will be attached to my heart.
You, is it wine? Strong and vigorous, I feel dizzy, and the wine has turned into acacia, which is as deep as Qian Qian's, only for the king's madness.
In the dead of night, people are quiet and cold, and it is difficult to gaze at the blue sky. Ying Ying is sad and lovesick.
I am afraid to listen to the sound of knocking on the forest. My tears are full of beauty. Since ancient times, it has been sad for a long time.
Standing by the window, there is nowhere to return. One kind of lovesickness, two sad places.
Drunk alone, clear your worries, wet clothes. The flowers have fallen, and I'm afraid to wake up.
At dusk, I watch the flowers fall after the rain, sighing that acacia is attached to my bones. Oh, that's it, that's it. Don't mention those sad things.
And invited the bright moon to accompany me to get drunk and forget the eternal sorrow of the world. ...
The tea and cigarettes are blown out, and the drunken language is Jiangnan.
( 1)
It's always good to have a cup of tea with friends.
Two women, still high in the cold winter, rolled up the window curtains and played the guzheng. Accompanied by the wind, they invited Yuner to sit idly opposite a small table covered with blue and white plaid cloth, listening to the heart in the piano and tasting the rhyme in the tea.
A beautifully carved timely teapot sings softly on the exquisite and chic alcohol stove, steaming. Smiling roses are dancing gracefully up and down in a pot of pure Ming Che spring, and the dense breath emanates from the bottom of the pot, with a faint fragrance lingering around us.
Tilting my head slightly, I watched the flowers slowly stretch and swim leisurely in the teapot, watching their once thin bodies gradually plump and moist under the nourishment of a clear water, and my long-standing worries seemed to stretch out at once.
The warm sunshine in the afternoon shines warmly on the world, much like a warm hand, gently brushing my smooth face and my smiling eyes. My mood is soft and light.
There is a lot of good weather in winter, but there is not much free time. There is always excellent tea, but there is too little time to enjoy an intoxicating tea fragrance quietly and leisurely. Moreover, it is rare to enjoy a happy time in the warm sunshine and let your mood bask in the sun.
Sitting lazily in the soft chair by the window, bathed in warm sunshine, my eyes are a little hazy and my heart is a little drunk.
As if, I am a woman picking lotus flowers on the river, walking in a lonely and deserted building, holding a clear spring and a beautiful flower, watching lotus leaf fields and autumn waters, watching years of hand-cutting, filled with the worries of Leng Yan in the south of the Yangtze River, and watching how many beautiful women used to be as beautiful as flowers and pure as jade, slowly combing with exquisite steps.
In a trance, my steps are drifting away. I smile, whisper, sing and dance where the world can't touch. I drank wine in a pot of moonlight and made tea in a light breeze in the wind where tea and cigarettes were falling. ...
Sitting quietly in the tunnel of time, I don't want to talk or get up. I just want to be surrounded by this soft time with fragrance for a long time. I just want all the noise and impetuousness in this world of mortals to go with the wind in the blind epiphany of Zen tea.
The tea soup on the table is getting weak. The vague thoughts are getting thicker and thicker by the lingering tea mist, so thick that it seems to be able to cross Qian Shan.
Wipe away the old dust from the corner of my eyes and stare at my friend who seems to be immersed in a certain artistic conception: "a day of tea is probably the most pleasant time in my life?"
Friend, sipping a cup of smile: "Tea doesn't make me drunk, but my heart makes me drunk ..."
(2)
True water has no fragrance, which is a simple truth.
But the days of losing fragrance are a bit bleak. Therefore, a cup of fragrant, fresh and elegant tea is the best ornament for ordinary days.
Mr. Lu Xun, who knows the meaning of tea, once said: "If there is good tea to drink, it is a kind of' happiness'".
The word "Qing" vividly outlines the rich and simple customs of China.
For most people in China, the intense enthusiasm of coffee and alcohol is far less comfortable than a cup of clear and fragrant tea.
Human taste is pure happiness. Life doesn't need luxury, just peace and tranquility. You don't have to pursue it deliberately, just calm down.
The important thing in tea tasting is to be quiet and sit in seclusion. A cup of tea in hand is quiet and carefree. Laugh and watch the flowers bloom and fall, exchange tea for quietness, ask questions with quietness, realize quietness with heart, realize Zen with quietness, and realize heart with Zen, so people are carefree, away from the disturbance, and the nature and man are one.
I love the artistic conception of "in the cold window, making tea to sweep the snow and a bowl of reading lamps". I like to hold a roll of yellowed poetry books, pour a cup of green tea, read the window at night, sing tang style's rhyme and sigh Qin Feng's bone.
The fragrance of tea fills the air, the books are full of sleeves, and the lamp shadows become poems. and heaven remains our neighbourhood, I am ashamed to forget.
The lingering love between the eyebrows, the lingering sadness and emptiness in the heart, was gently erased by a wisp of tea smoke; All kinds of troubles and anxieties in the past have also slowly precipitated under the enlightenment of some tea ceremonies.
Only a cup of tea in your hand is as elegant as a cloud and as elegant as the wind. You can win the endless prosperity of the world with a sip. ...
(3)
Tea drinkers are the best in the south. In Yi Deng, the essence of the sun and the moon is condensed, and the aura of heaven and earth is exhausted.
Tea drinkers are modest gentlemen; Tea drinkers, handsome sons of the world of mortals. The way of tea, care about the nature of the product, taste in people.
I have always felt that tea tasting is an elegant thing. Being alone is a kind of quiet enjoyment, and it is a kind of enjoyment for two people to know each other while drinking.
After friends travel, I often spend a quiet afternoon in rainy days, propping up a plain paper umbrella alone, leisurely crossing the Liulong 'an levee, looking for an elegant and tidy teahouse and leaning against the carved window lattice.
The teahouse I love doesn't need to be resplendent, but it needs to be quiet and chic. My favorite teahouse can be without tile windows, but it must have an quaint charm.
Tea clubs that often go to drink tea have my favorite blue-and-white porcelain cups, elegant vases with a faint fragrance of gardenia, and transparent blue meaning for the purpose of washing the heart and keeping fit.
It's raining again today. I'm sitting alone in a familiar position in the teahouse, holding a thin cup and looking at the gray horizon in the distance.
A song of blue and white porcelain, affectionate and melancholy, sings in my ear like tea smoke: "It's raining in Lan Yu, I'm waiting for you." Smoke billows from the kitchen, and a thousand miles across the river. Moonlight salvage has a dizzy ending, such as blue and white porcelain handed down from generation to generation. In splash-ink landscape painting, you hide in the depths of ink ... "
Inexplicably, there is a surge of sadness that covers my sad eyes.
Friends who have talked about tea, at this moment, in your brightly lit world, which face are you smiling at? At this moment, which delicate and enchanting petal blooms gently between your fragrant lips and teeth?
Through the dense fragrance of tea and cigarettes, I filled a cup of quiet thoughts, opened a book with threads of the past, stroked it gently with soft strings, crossed the fragrance of tea and read books from Jiangnan.
Old friends giggled and the yard was full of roses and apricots. For the time being, making tea is my home.
Chest, tea, intoxicating. Fundus, the past is vivid, and the past is like a dream.
Dear friend, I miss you today, watching the rain, listening to music and making tea, do you know?
Dear friends, even if Jiangnan in the dream disappears, will Jiangnan outside the dream remain the same?
Friends are speechless, and a drop of tea tears falls heavily …