The first lyrical sketch describing romantic love: romantic love is deep and cool, the sky is sad and sunny, the dream is broken, Redmi makeup, the south branch is broken, the piano sound contains snow, the moonlight is cold, frosty ink, the stars and rain are soft, the next time, loneliness, starry sky, drunken dreams, the winter wind whistling, the dream is clear, the moonlight shines, butterflies are cold, and the west wind blows leaves.
Leaning against the railing, the stars sing lovesick songs alone, the flowers are melancholy, the wine invites dreams to drink, the clouds are about to drip, the ice moon bay is cold, the ink beads are dripping, the sun is gone, the pink tears are raining, the pen and ink are singing, and the beauty is fascinated by the peach blossom dream, but it is empty. I only want to admire Yuanyang, but I don't envy immortals. It's raining to my heart, and it's faint.
A plum blossom blooms in the courtyard, birds fall on the branches and listen to the broken rain, mottled stars are fascinated by Kazuki Watanabe musician Mo, and the enchanting violin sound is monopolized. If it is difficult for snow to have a pair of shadows, snow powder notes send a feeling of thinking, lotus flowers are sleepless after dreams, the flute is cold and foggy in winter, the little red book is full of soft tears, the half-moon piano flowers are drunk, the fine pen crosses Tianshan Mountain, and the pale waves roll ink.
Pear blossoms and tears, who is graceful? One ink landscape, one ink sky, one ink troubled times, one ink finely divided, one ink flower rain, one ink dew, one ink caring, the last night, the ink rain was condensed, and a clear dream was buried. Dusk and dusk became words, and the dream soul was broken and lonely, how many soft flowers were exhausted, and how many lovesickness.
Empty, lonely, helpless, dancing all the ink, playing all the mountains and rivers, singing all the wind, flowers and snow, you know that a round of Leng Yue shines on my heart, you know that homesickness and rain fall on lonely dreams, the monument is clear, broken, cold, snow, haggard and thick ink, you are thinking one after another, you die under Xia Sui's pen, singing sword dance, hating fate, why not?
The palace is deep, the golden hairpin is in the hair, the cold smoke is shrouded, the winter wind is blowing gently, the piano is falling with snow, the heart is stained with stains, the yellow sand is swept away, the wind and rain in the city, the black jade tears, the beauty solo, and the surging river is unabated. I once remembered that yesterday the peach blossoms were full, but today I am trapped in the pear garden. I was originally a disappointed guest, but because of the beautiful lotus water, I once remembered that talking and laughing made me intoxicated, He Nai.
The flowers are heartbroken, cold and warm, with brocade sleeves dancing in ink, a butterfly in the painting, ink in the sky, red rain in the world of mortals, snow fragrance in ink, mysterious words, words containing ice, mountains are not mountains, water is not water, feelings are unclear, plum blossoms are in the snow, fingers are sand, thoughts are full, moss is on the table, lanterns are dreaming, and Confucian women elaborate on lotus flowers.
Cloudy flower ballads, flowing water feelings, the vast sea, sunny forever, no print, no news, distant, distant, peach blossom broken petals, who spends boudoir, wind chaos, Chanjuan shadow, eyebrows locked in autumn, snuggling up to the sea, Nanshan not singing, obsessed, He Nai, first painting, soft green and dark red, when geese return, when Taoyuan looks for the old.
Looking for flowers in the fog, rhyming songs in the clouds, playing magnificent chapters, flutes, Qian Shan's myriad waters, moss like waterfalls, stumbling, drawing a round of central angle, lighting a pole of autumn water, composing a faint pink song, emitting a trace of love and hate. If time goes by, I am willing to stay with you for a long time. If the moon knows my heart, I will be full of love and love.
Blue flowers in winter, yellow leaves in autumn, only the road is ordinary, drinking all the ink and dew, singing all the songs and rains, the long winter days, the rustling rain, putting on red makeup, covering up the tears, Iraqis singing alone in the moonlight, drunk in the moonlight, drinking the west wind with soft heart, walking with lotus flowers, rippling snow shadows, snuggling up, watching the stars and rain, singing lightly, taking pictures and stranding powder.
Lyric Prose Describing Romantic Scenery Part II: Drink all the romantic sceneries, but never return home. Author: clear water without fish
This is often the case, sleeping in prosperity and dreaming of desolation. The picture scroll that lives in memory is, after all, a misty and illusory distant mountain. Flowers bloom and fall, flowers fall and shadows fall, ups and downs, joys and sorrows, year after year. A wave of running water, a peach blossom. Thinking about the cause, thinking about the result. The poem says: there is no romantic love in ancient and modern times, and the feelings are shallow and deep. Who sees that the west wind is cool alone, and it is still full after brushing? No longer: Acacia goes deep into the bone, and there is nowhere to hide the injury.
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I met you in the depths of the lotus root where the blue boat went astray. It was a peach blossom that I didn't want to explore. Meet in an instant and leave in an instant. I am an impenetrable part of your palm, complaining that the time is too short, sighing and meeting each other late, and we have no time to meet each other forever. Look at you through the flowers, as if you were there, not far or not. Want to open my hand, I miss your arms and your warmth. I think so, because I hear the sound of wind and rain. The wind said: it is a flower in the mirror, and the rain said: it is a moon in the water. The story of Shuihua already knows the ending.
The world of mortals, a hundred years of romance, will always be just repeated encounters and departures. The so-called eternal life is just a fleeting moment in time, and the warmth is always filled with nostalgia over and over again, even if it has already melted into flying snow and turned into spring mud. Keeping warm is just a kind of self-comfort. In every cycle, the Camellia event ends by crossing the forgotten river to the other side. Always believe that there is such an emotion: once the sea is difficult for water, it will always be amber. Although, although there is always another voice whispering in my ear: everything in the world will eventually become empty. Season after season, flowers bloom and fall, but they cannot be gathered and smoothed by the years.
Love at first sight years ago, heartbreak years later. Meet and finally miss. What will it be like to meet again one day, perhaps at an unexpected moment? Will you forget to say how you met and left, only those warm memories, one is the bright moon in your palm, the other is the haze on your cheek. If you still have time, talk about rivers, landscapes and blessings, and then sigh gently when you are silent occasionally. Just, gently, will a river full of springs overflow from your eyes?
Someone asked me, do I always have such dreams? About peach blossom, about running water, about your story and ending, neither she nor I know how to answer. You are my misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River and the spring I must bloom for you. As for the withering after flowering and tossing and turning after withering, it is autumn and autumn wind. Yes, you are just my spring, you are only responsible for prosperity, and I am only responsible for blooming. A flower affair will eventually ruin it. When I finally woke up in a few drunken nights, my old dreams, like feathers on the strings of time, just opened my eyelids and died. As for where to go and where to land, I have no idea; You don't need to know. Outside the noisy lights, watching the long flowing water alone, looking back: the small building was cold in the autumn wind all night, and the dream of falling flowers in the idle pool gradually faded. Looking back at my love with you, it is destined to be a dream. No matter how beautiful the dream is, I can't find it when I wake up.
Too sudden to refuse, too beautiful to be strong in love, so you can't afford it, I can't hold it, and those beautiful moments shining in the light will eventually live up to it. Walking independently in the rivers and lakes, I once longed to be with each other. However, this world was originally a forgotten river and lake. Where can anything be immortal and what can last forever? Life is always just an opportunity to bloom. Some people know that a season is full of flowers, but no one knows that a place is full of rain
The sky is misty, and you are a place in my blank life, fading in and out. And that colorful part has already penetrated the back of the paper and stained the pale days of the rest of my life. How can you understand the pain of a piece of rice paper being scratched, no matter how slender and soft the pen is? The bright moon shines on the moss again, and the clear spring and flowing water remain the same. Looking back, I think of a woman named An Yiru who said: Love is a drop in the ocean.
From a pile of old clothes, I dug up some lost time that I never had time to change. At that time, it was stained with my joy and beautiful dreams. At this point, it seems like a dream outside the world, but it has nothing to do with me. Old clothes, old scenery, those clothes are as bright as ever. I, on the other hand, have walked out of that pile of splendor and entered deeper and deeper white alleys, feeling at ease in your fleeting time.
How can you blame me for missing my youth? How to complain, failed to live up to the good times? Read a sentence:? New thin, no wine, no sorrow for autumn? Sigh once:? I'm afraid to leave my arms. How much do you want to say? . Who can say that there is not a person in your life who has not had time to cherish, and there is not a dream that has not been fulfilled? Who dares to say that he has given and owned in time all his life and never missed or regretted it? Will it? Who will have such a complete life?
This meeting coincides with its meeting. The warmth and warmth of thousands of feet can't compare with the softness of fingertips. So, you sealed with a kiss, I feel sad. How much vanity, how much prosperity, will pay the dust, when you are in full bloom in the morning dew, how can I collect you, which pen should I use to describe you? I don't know how many years ago, you escaped from my pen and fell alone. It is said that it is better to meet than to meet, and it is better to miss it. There are thousands of roads in the world of mortals. It's a glimpse of love, and it's this scene that doomed the desolation of this life. If it weren't for this meeting, the story wouldn't be so tortuous, and there wouldn't be so much parting pain at the beginning and end of life.
From a love that consumes everything to a stranger, from the rising sun to the setting moon, from beauty to gray hair, from the past to the future, like falling flowers in autumn, flowers will not fall and fruits will not bear fruit. Qiu Lai is in a hurry, and winter has disappeared. Some people come and go. Some people come and stay. Time has no end, so I just want to wait for a fragment, a season of blooming or falling, so that we can meet and leave, and enjoy those wonderful China years with tears in our eyes. You can hold my hand and walk slowly through the deep and quiet path, snuggling up to each other at night, without disturbing any butterfly or waking anyone who is sleeping.
The flower called the other side actually has a better name As white as the bright moonlight, it is called Datura flower; Red as fire in a furnace, it is called Shuman Shahua. As everyone knows, such a beautiful flower is full of sadness and memories. ? Flowers bloom for a thousand years and fall for a thousand years, and leaves and flowers will never meet. Love is not a cause and effect, but a life and death doomed by fate. ? When the flowers bloom, only one mass is red; Flowers bloom without leaves, and leaves grow without flowers; Miss each other but can't meet each other, alone on the other side. In fact, you love me so much that you and I will eventually be lonely, tired and cherished on the other side.
Still willing to for you, after experiencing all kinds of joys and sorrows, use a riverside to splash ink on the world, and use the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River to drown our experiences, your stories and mine. Be merciful, thank you for meeting. After a turn, everyone went to maintain an independent posture. It was the sound of nesting in the old days, singing behind it: If you teach your eyes no hatred, you won't believe there are hoary heads in the world.
Turn around with fireworks and makeup and go to a flower smashing activity. On a lonely night, I picked up my old dreams and your shadow scattered in the ribbon. The breeze is as good as ever, and the moon is still there. Peaceful and quiet, gorgeous and flashy, has already messed up a pool of spring scenery and drunk half of the country. The world is big, the heart is small, the mind is strong, and the fate is shallow. You caught a glimpse of my world, and my life stopped at the moment you passed.
Lyric prose about romantic love: Your romantic love is destined to meet me. Author: The fog is singing and the wind is whistling.
Fish swimming in the opposite direction from Xiahe Bridge
I talked to myself alone.
It once saw you at Reed Ferry.
Mufeng is carrying a flute.
Who planted the foreshadowing of reincarnation by the forgotten river, and who carved the oath of reunion on the Sansheng stone. Smart me, I should interpret your loneliness in the Millennium Covenant. How many paragraphs never leave, the more you feel, the more you will ripple.
At that time, you waited on the other side for thousands of years. The long river in the twilight glows with cold light, reflecting your delicate face. You are waiting for a flute in Mufeng. Qian Fan is gone, but Lanzhou is gone. Only night, from the other side of the running water. The wind follows the running water, just like a silent voice, afraid of losing its distance. Play a song "On the Water Side" lightly, penetrate your chest, and fill up love and memories one by one. Who is it, the world of mortals ferry, to stir up a lonely lamp, reflecting the gathering and scattering of this world?
The night wind lingers in silence. Who is listening to the flute in the apricot blossom rain on Xiahe Bridge? Quiet blue river, slightly rising waves, like your countless loneliness, invade your heart. In the fleeting time of plain colors, I sit in the world of mortals and count my own shadows. Every time I am alone, I look at a short-lived promise. Who sees you, the moonlight interweaves your face at the bottom of the water, caring about your brow, but caring about your heart, and your fingertips linger in the world, you must feel extremely distressed. Only one tree is in bloom. It blooms in spring, melting the loneliness of the years, making you smile, and finally relaxing your heart as light as a butterfly.
It is not easy to talk about love in our secular world. Flowers in the mirror, the moon in the water and sadness in the past are all heavy topics. In this non-poetic age, a love is worth a few words. We whizzed through the vicissitudes of this world, there was always an invisible bodhi and an impenetrable smile. A flower, a butterfly, a ray of rain, this is my life savings, previous life expectations, this life is written at your fingertips, can you still be moved?
In this life, you are a flower and I am a butterfly. I think you are Chihiro. Find a peach blossom and be my ten-mile red brocade. Before shangbeizi, it was a thousand years late. Fortunately, there is still time, and the feast continues. All the flowers bloom together in the hypothesis, or deep, or plain, or shy, or lush, infatuated. Don't ask, don't complain, and don't waste time when this bustling China person meets.
The flowers are hanging on the branches in the corner, so you are only here to get into my eyes. At that time, the flowers were good and the flowers were fragrant, so they snuggled together. How good it is, no matter how times change. I was stupid, stupid and smiled. This is my feeling, so I splurge. Collect all the flowers, collect all the bird songs, collect the whole spring, state your name, our story and so on with your life.
No one can stop the love in this world. What kind of desolation is needed to survive a romantic disaster? In the deepest world of mortals where I met you, I held the oath of a thousand years ago and turned my heart all my life. I don't regret every word I say, and I will never forget it. Maybe on a dull day, I will know you, stay with you, watch a drizzle, listen to a flute and say a thousand words. Sing with you safely, listen to the blue wind crossing the border, and every petal is spent in the wind, turning into joy that never falls to the ground. Even if you can't stay with me for a lifetime, cut off the fireworks on the other side and let the world see your flicker and your beauty. The enchanting peach blossom, full of desire to drip, accompanied by provocative peach blossom, seems to squeeze into a perfect story under the door.
Time passes at the moment when flowers bloom and fall, and turns to the moment when dreams start and flowers fall. When the flowers bloom, you will be happy; If the flowers wither, you will give up. In this way, close your eyes, fight for the world of mortals, and be silent and desolate. Whether you are drunk or awake, you don't know that you are a dream guest. You are greedy in the morning, don't wake up at sunset, and don't roll the curtains at dusk.
Butterfly lazy warbler has no intention of spring, a shower, a gust of wind, and the yard is full of residual red! It turns out that in silence, the flowers have already opened. Time goes by, time goes by, and I have no power to turn back. Flocculation flying, crashing to the ground, the latter's eyes are full of pain. You must turn around and unload all your worries and joys. Going back on the road and leaving is like a lamp on the river at night, and another lamp disappears.