In the dream, autumn goes and spring comes, and flowers fall and bloom; Time has bounced away the years mercilessly, and the world of mortals has wasted its prosperity devoutly. You are the fallen flower of a thousand years, and I am the running water of a thousand years. Thousands of years of hard search, thousands of years of day and night expectations, are just waiting for your wordless wonderful. For the true love in our hearts, we sincerely bow down before the Buddha; The encounter in the rain after a thousand years will meet your grace again.
The rain in the dream is your spoony tears. It is like the sentimental broken jade in your eyes, sprinkled on my dry heart affectionately, blooming with the fragrance of flowers and the affection of rain, and I sincerely wait for you in my dream.
Holding an oil-paper umbrella, I wander alone in a long, lonely rain lane, hoping to meet a girl who is as sad as a lilac. I am looking forward to searching hard, searching hard, but I haven't met a girl like lilac. The rainy lane is long and quiet, and I am walking slowly with an oil-paper umbrella. Whose scenery lit up my eyes, blurred the familiar figure, and whose imprint was it? The misty rain has blinded my eyes. Where are you? Where are you? The affection in my dream has gone with you.
it's drizzling, and the rain lane is long and silent. I'm still searching for you. I don't know whether it is the tears of the spring rain or the affection of the east wind. You came from afar with an oil-paper umbrella and quietly left. That touch of blue is beautiful with the breeze, which seems to gather the aura of heaven and earth, precipitate the hustle and bustle, and go away from me with a gentle fragrance. The graceful and beautiful beauty fascinated my eyes, extended my memory, and my heart went away with that orchid.
Everything is so random, and the dream rewrites the poetry of the oil-paper umbrella. The thoughts of the past turn into your true beauty, and the silent sadness is swept away by your lightness. I turned into a drizzle to pursue your beauty thousands of years ago.
on that day, when the sky was clear and the flowers turned into rain, you sat alone by the lake and cried secretly. Your sadness and your memories are full of my new wordless sadness. Broken memories break the prison of washing, like a sad butterfly hiding in a corner and crying softly. I only want to attract your attention. Soft willows and clear waves hold up your injured ruby, and light ripples open the petals in your heart. My obsession and my expectation make you smile gently. Unintentionally, you threw away a stone, but it aroused the long-lost ripples in my heart. After thousands of years of recollection, I met the beauty of this life. Your bright eyes, your beautiful image, have deeply reflected in my eyes.
When the gentle breeze pushes open your window, your face infects the sky, and the afterglow of the sunset shines out the beauty of heaven because of you. When the boundless night kissed the earth lightly, your elegance bewitched the flowering period, and the silver light of the bright moon bloomed for you. You are always so beautiful that I forget myself.
Perhaps it is the long-lost beauty that renders the spring. The drizzle is full of poetry and painting, and it is secretly hung in front of your window, just to give you a sudden surprise. The crisp beat pours out my love, and the Rainbow Bridge becomes our gathering.
I sincerely paid for your beauty, lingering tenderness, warm jasper, warm words, and getting together every night. I quietly picked up your past beauty again, and set it up page by page, hidden deep in the silence of my heart.
Imaginary thoughts, such as galloping to reminisce, your remoteness and your beauty have become a beautiful past like yesterday's meteor. The gorgeous fragrance of flowers does not mean that you continue to be speechless, sweet youth, high-pitched bun, and overlapping yesterday. Ask if the flowers have a return date? There is always separation in life. Don't be disappointed, forget and miss your sadness. Everything makes it go away with the wind, and I will see you as beautiful as ever on the other side.
The wind and rain withered your flowering period, and your tears moistened my memory; Silent crying broke the silence in my dream. I wrote your beauty over and over again, carefully collecting it in my heart, just waiting for the silent flowering period.
You are an orchid for thousands of years, and I am a silent sadness. Every time you are frustrated, I will always hold you in my arms with tolerance and let my dreams entrust you away.
You are a teardrop of tenderness, and I am the running water of infatuation. Loving you has turned into silent tears.