The mountains sank.
A spoiled and neglected life
All samsaras intersect.
The world beyond time
Dewdrops in the morning and butterflies stranded at noon.
The golden age of life should add night.
Plus old age.
On the edge of the cliff
I'm just a container in the Jianghu.
Draw tiny parts of things.
What else can I do?
Who can stop the pain before it comes?
get rid of
So many people are hanging around (including me)
No one prepared a ladder for them.
Living, not like myself every day.
The world is too shallow to be careful.
You'll show your thorns.
Jiang Hushui is too deep.
If you fall in, nobody will save you.
Why not?
Polishing a blx in the Wandering.
Wipe the dust of the season warmly.
See something more mysterious than love.
Run quietly
Leave the hug to the world.
Praise god.
Modern poetry hangs low in the rivers and lakes, and the rivers meander.
That spring evening, a sad season,
Holding an oil-paper umbrella alone,
Walking in a quiet and ancient rain lane;
Green slate, red lanterns on the shore,
Who knocked down my troubles?
Who plucked my strings?
We already knew each other when we met.
I have missed each other;
Smoke fills the air, rain drops,
You, an inexperienced person,
An ignorant woman,
For the pleasure of rivers and lakes,
Often at a loss,
You hold my hand gently,
Look at me affectionately,
Whispered:
"How about taking me away from the world of mortals and building a river and lake of piano and poetry together?"
In the spring of March, swift flies,
Willows fly and flowers are full of skirts.
Sword shadow, just a prosperous and withered;
It's raining in Mao Mao outside the window.
In the gentle wind,
A peach blossom is swaying,
Into Fangfei's land,
When did it start?
Your long eyebrows are no longer stretched,
You look me in the eye and you're not tired anymore?
Happiness is higher than weak water,
Gently rippling a few times,
He went straight into the clear water in the south of the Yangtze River.
Eventually turned into a vigilant violet,
Love is like water, gathering elegance;
On a foggy morning,
I sail a boat,
Leave the glory once planted,
Leave your world,
From then on, I flew away, and you were far away.
The past of the world of mortals is lost in thousands of miles of smoke,
Cheng tomb;
"Spring drought, fish in the land. It is better to forget each other in the rivers and lakes. "
A leaf boat, a season of fragrance,
Lonely lights on the cold, Qin poetry Jianghu.
Modern Jianghu Poem 3 "Jianghu Forgetting"
I met you that year.
The highland barley wine made Gesanghua drunk.
A song "No matter how high the mountain is, there is a problem"
Sing crazy for me
//
That night, the snowy mountain was no longer lonely.
The grassland is no longer barren.
The wolf stopped howling.
Clear fire makes doomed love.
Jump into the morning in the Mongolian pot village.
//
I met you again ten years ago.
Graceful, unlike Zhuo Ma Jr.
The wool coat is rounded and smooth with silk beads.
The pointed Tibetan boots are replaced by high heels, and the black is dazzling.
//
I saw you again today.
The revolving door in the hotel makes me dizzy.
You are still you, and I am still me.
French red wine can't taste highland barley.
//
We met in the snowy area.
We forgot each other in the Jianghu.
We met in poverty.
We broke up with Fu Gui.
No matter how high the mountain is, there is also a roof.
Jinsha River is active again.
Gesang flowers bloom in the wilderness.
Camellia oleifera xiangpiao felt house
The fire went out and the pot dance stopped.
Black boy hangs quietly on the wall.
When the moon rises, the snow-capped mountains are still lonely.
Sunset points and ancient faults are only blood red.
//
I built a pile with my thoughts.
I turned the curved pipe in frustration.
Kowtow and stop meditating.
In order to forget the pain, I have been climbing mountains and mountains all my life.
The bad feelings of the past flew over Zabulun Temple with the wind.
The lonely figure on the bank of Bangu Lake sings prayers for you.