Snowflakes are flying and the ground is cold.
The plain incense core can't hide the elegance of classical dispersion. The dream washed by the wind and snow is full of faint fragrance, graceful and full of rendering.
Those branches that project to help the wind are immersed in the snow that cultivates the soul, revealing the pure and vigorous lines.
Vertical mountains and horizontal waters, solo and quiet. The rhyme of mountain gods and water is called smooth and dignified.
If bees don't fly, who will look for a faint fragrance in the snow?
Butterflies don't dance, who will pick up a touch of loneliness in the years of fear?
Abandoned in time, whose lips will it hang on and smile gently?
Those blossoming bones, swaying in poetic rhyme, gradually replaced the heartstrings of spring flowers and autumn moons?
Sparrows who don't know how to be sad stand on the branches and sing.
With a flick of her finger, the girl in green scattered the image of a dream all over the world, leaving lines of impressions on the snow, but forgot to connect them.
Xie Niang leans on the column in colorful clothes, looks at the roof and sings the homesickness of time.
A wet heart soaks the agility of flying.
Who's fine footsteps, so clear, every light up and down, will step on the loneliness of hurting Mei?
Who is floating in casual thoughts, so gentle, in the time and space without the other shore and crossing; In a calm and peaceful heart; Turn around in the fragrant and dreamy scenery?
Whoever holds hands and looks at the figure misses her cold and clean face, even if it is scattered into mud, it will remember her indisputable elegance; Even if it is crushed to dust, it will leave her fragrance forever?
"The thin shadow is oblique and shallow, and the thin fragrance floats at dusk." "Scattered into mud and ground into dust, only the fragrance remains." "Far knowledge is not snow, only faint fragrance comes." Whose pen and ink is drunk after drinking the last drop of wine in the gourd?
The exquisiteness of inspiring people, inserted into the marrow of the soul, will be more vivid than the lyrical spirituality of poetry and the brilliant charm of thought?
I don't have to ask, and you don't have to answer. Suzhong's serious appearance is an answer.
A totem in winter, shallow singing, deep to touch the heartstrings, issued a magnificent and immortal poem, vigorous and majestic.
Perhaps, after thousands of years of flowing water, the tune of "Three Lanes of Plum Blossoms" has already changed its original rhythm, but no one knows it. Perhaps, everyone knows, just can't bear to say it!
Rain shy flowers, thin branches, through the wind, waves, snow; Cross the cliff; Crossing the yiyi ancient road; Crossing the mysterious wind of Wei and Jin dynasties; Through the water of Tang, Yue and Song Dynasties; In the game of painstaking efforts and snow, there is an unyielding swan song.