The water in the dream, the distant mountains contain Dai, and the smoke condenses near the water. A small canoe with a leaf goes back thousands of years, and Wu Peng passed by, with blue oars drawing freehand brushwork, red scarf flying over the vast ink lotus, suona blowing Wu Wa double dance, a pot of drunken hibiscus, fish books sent thousands of miles, and Hongyan can send brocade books. Someone on the dressing floor leaned against the west window and missed the boat several times.
The rhyme and floating melody in the bones are deeply hidden in the ancient culture. The stories are unfolding one by one. I want to beat the horse, but I am afraid to face up in the season. The partridge in the deep lane of flowing water, the thin fish dressed as the lightest moth eyebrow, looked down at the eaves and lingered a little, touching broken walls. Legend has it that it never peeled off, and the flat steps were cleared with bluestone, and the artist's sheng pipe was cleaned up, and the empty flute was blown over; A woman with a tulle makes herself feel sorry for herself, but the sunset shines into the depths of the courtyard; Far away from picking mulberry leaves in the wrong way, looking forward to it, beautiful eyes and smart smile. It suddenly occurred to me that in the deep alley, there was a smell of wine leaking out, but someone was holding an oil-paper umbrella silently, and lilacs were blooming and sad, but I never walked by. ...
Under the long scroll of the Green Lantern, there will be an elegant mood of watching the red candle shed tears and silently knocking on snuff. In the loneliest late autumn, Chinese parasol trees sway to bid farewell to the cycle of one year. Green vines are crawling all over the courtyard, and the heart is lush. I will want to learn the bright moon in the pavilion, go through a lonely journey, have a shallow drink with people, get drunk, and lie in the clouds. Heart ink holds candle, inkstone cannot be lost, and it is difficult to fall. In such a night, someone always stays up all night, only a lonely moon is waiting before dawn, the sound of machines pestle, the sound of sewing, the sound of a levy and the sound of thousands of families smashing clothes. Let's be sad in the autumn wind tomorrow. Someone will lean on Chai Fei to smell the plum fragrance of Qin people, someone will open the porch window to cut off the running water in front of the door, and someone will slim down the wine. This kind of sadness is cool, I have never tasted it. ...
Take a few places. There must be others. Take advantage of my leisure time, take mango shoes and bamboo sticks, and a few quiet streamers are running in the mountains, and a few wisps of dust are coming out. Orchestral music, the ethereal Shan Ye rises in Yue Xian, and the thirteen strings of the plain hand are exciting. Sheng tube spit out sorrow, so there is oblique wind and drizzle, which is also like a romantic trip, only misty rain. Road and bridge west, pavilions turn, eaves are low and small, grass is green by the stream, and Wu Nong's soft words are endless. Busy is the business of farmers, it seems that golden hope grows in the south of the spring breeze. Even in Shuang Yan, I won't miss Wang Xietang. I only cut wicker in the spring breeze in March. I have never lived this life in Taoyuan. ...
When I open my eyes again, when the pollution of modern civilization has clouded the sky, when cars, water and horses have swallowed up the flowing water of small bridges, and when reinforced concrete has turned into blood, I know that the bright moon has become farther and farther away. There is a bright moon, and I'm afraid to go upstairs. Now I no longer look forward to cicada's dream, and I no longer dream of Jade Rabbit and Moon. All I can reach is a devastated and dead planet, sinking in the dark day after day. Lantern Festival is still full of flowers and trees, but she has drifted away with the Millennium.
All I ask is a clear spring, a bottle of moon on credit, a snowstorm and a glass of wine in this life. Now my dream is over.
On the other side, the light smoke covered the stage, and the east wind secretly distributed the flying flowers of thousands of families, but I was afraid that the world of mortals could not find the boat that could hold my dusty heart and carry my heavy luggage.