Jiangnan in front of us is a poem? Is this a painting? Is it the lady in the boudoir? Is it Xiaojiabiyu? Bridges and flowing water are your tenderness, and highways are your strength. The wide road divides the south of the Yangtze River into a huge grid book ―― a masterpiece carefully written by farmers.
A straight road is an infinite staff, and all kinds of vehicles are jumping notes, playing a song of celebration. Flowing with joy, rolling with passion, singing fiery red and expressing prosperity. ...
Jiangnan songs-pastoral music and disco!
Xue pan
Looking forward to snow is looking forward to your mood.
It seldom snows in the south. Who is standing on a cloudy day?
A tree, on a high hill, is waiting for the colorful winter alone.
The wind spreads beautiful lies in the cold rain, and the snow is turned away by the lintel of the season. Every time I lose weight,
The first frost is always remembered as the back of a dream.
It hasn't snowed yet, and my heart is as empty as a bird's whine.
A deciduous tree, its desolate appearance, makes the whole season lonely.
It snows south of the Yangtze River.
Like a flock of frightened birds, white feathers fall with the wind,
My heart fluttered on vilen, and I couldn't utter a moan.
It snows in Jiangnan. A lot of unforgettable pain does not come from cold, when your eyes shrug.
Glaciers, flying thoughts blocked all retreat.
It is a bird that flies south and returns to the north, bringing me the spring rain that turns green quietly.
Snowflakes melted into my tears.
Beautiful songs are floating in the snow.
Beautiful songs are floating in the snow, and these wonderful notes come from far away places.
God, it reached the peak of the season overnight.
Everything silently plays the symphony of the earth and sings in unison for the coming spring.
The germ under the snow is surging in the spring tide.
I'm not an audience in front of the stage. My heart joined in dancing and singing,
Enthusiasm is high and never ends.
Watch the children play with snow.
At this moment, the earth is like a kind mother. Love extends wider than the seasons,
Let the children's footprints write the happiness and joy of childhood in the snow.
Make a snowman. Throw snowballs. Have a snowball fight. Children's innocent eyes and laughter smooth the wrinkles of the soul.
A snowman piled high caught my attention, and I suddenly felt that snowman was myself.
Soon integrated into the children's sunshine world.
Snow is silent.
Snow is silent.
A group of children playing with snow awakened a sleeping dream, and the snow lit up the morning.
Is the sky full of freedom and joy that makes the earth tremble slightly, or is it my heart,
Longing to fly freely like snow.
I saw the earth holding a holy heart, and it was still calm in the face of cheering children.
Walk into the snow
Walking into the snow, am I getting old or young?
If I am getting old, why is my heart as light as snow and my eyes lit up by fairy tales?
If I am getting younger, why are my temples gray?
Thoughts are like falling in love.