Outside the window, there is a faint fragrance and the shadows of the trees are dancing. Every time at this time, there will be an inexplicable emotion lingering between my eyebrows. The memories are lingering, the past events are like threads, and they seem to be illusory and yet real. Thoughts, unknowingly, have been lingering in the depths of time for many years. ——Xiangxue Ruolan
The paths are vicissitudes and the years are in a hurry. It's not a bad thing to be alone in the hustle and bustle. I like to sit quietly or lean against the window. Occasionally, I drink a cup of jasmine to clear away the chaos; I think about an old friend and pick up the time; I write a paragraph to cherish my thoughts; I hold a book and read a period of time with a longing.
The fleeting years are deep and the years are shallow. How many emotions have been hidden in the reflection of the passing years, and how many thoughts are buried in the depths of time. Now, when they are revealed, they are warm and sad; beautiful and confused.
When we meet, the most tender softness in my heart, the comfort of wearing a flowered shirt and falling shadows in the pool, cannot compare to this gentleness. Enchantment, the most enchanting intoxication in the world, the kind of infatuated love that is like three thousand pieces of water and only takes a spoonful to drink, is just this kind of intoxication.
On the dusty road, I meet you at the most beautiful time, smelling the fragrance of flowers, refreshing my heart; a touch of breeze, warming my heart. There are always some poems that moisten the lonely feelings; there are always some pasts that decorate the tender time; there are always some melancholy that sway into the fragrance of a tree of flowers in the wind and moon; there are always some thoughts that linger in the fragrance and become a beautiful flower, deep in the time. Here, quietly and peacefully, like a dream.
You are in my dream, and I am in your dream. Those intertwined times are like the colorful reflections of a meter of tassels, which are both bright and gentle. Fortunately, you are the fireworks in my dream; grateful, I am the ebb and flow of your time.
I often look at the moonlight and talk to the stars; I often smell the fragrance of flowers and recite poems with loneliness; I often hold a cup and drink with my soul.
Perhaps, there are too many helplessness, too many joys and sorrows, and too many sorrows in life. Bitter or sweet, thick or light, deep or shallow, we all need to try, resolve, forget, and cover the most poignant poems in the world with warmth.
The days slip by the delicate and graceful fingertips, dancing with words every day, infusing the time of thinking about you with the fragrance of ink, every strand, every strand, is full of enchantment, comfort, and exquisite. Those forgotten thoughts, deep-rooted thoughts are so dark and quiet in the depths of time.
If possible, I would like to be a tree, standing in eternal thoughts; if possible, I would like to be a flower, blooming the title page of time, reading the fragrance of a case, lifting the silhouette of vicissitudes, and watching the beautiful years. , enjoying the silence of the passing years, who is counting, a thought, deep in the time, thick; who is chanting, a poem, echoing on the shore of the world. You are my most profound tenderness and waiting.
Once upon a time, there was a thought that sprouted in spring, bloomed in summer, became abundant in autumn, and turned into a beautiful bloom in winter, deeply buried in the green mottled corners of the wall. Here, waiting for the arrival of next spring.
In the depths of time, watch the passing years quietly; as time goes by, memories will never grow old. Thinking of beauty and youthfulness in the cycle of four seasons. Those unforgettable past events once again leaped to the fingertips in the cool place, blooming with longings. Flowers and leaves with faint fragrance danced in the depths of the years with graceful lines of poetry, performing intoxicating sadness. .
If life is just like the first time we met, how will we place those words that are in our hearts, sad for spring, sad for autumn, melancholy and lonely. In this life, I use thoughts to decorate my dreams, remembrances to fill the loneliness, and words to express my feelings. An encounter that is as gorgeous as fireworks, although it does not last long, can leave a fragrance, which is also a kind of happiness and beauty! < /p>
In August, the mornings and evenings are slightly cool, collecting the last touch of warmth and keeping it in the depths of time, saying goodbye to the end of summer, enjoying the early autumn, and looking at the end of the world. You and I are ultimately the flower on the other side mentioned in the Buddhist scriptures. I am the flower and you are the leaves. They bloom for thousands of years and the flowers fall for thousands of years. The flowers and leaves will never be seen again. Nowadays, it doesn't matter whether we see each other or not, as long as our hearts are dependent on each other, our feelings are with each other, we miss each other, and we never forget each other, that's enough!
Gently push the window lattice, looking at the passing years, the wind blows up my thoughts, thinking, passing through the corridor, still lingering in the depths of time, never far away, stained by the fleeting years, waiting quietly, getting thicker In my heart, as if there are three thousand pieces of water, thinking only of you is happiness.