Hongyan can't wait for you. Half a piece of brocade book
Walking through the glacier
Drinking horses and closing the mountain can't find your tea.
Sitting and watching Yun Qi
I can't see you smiling like a chrysanthemum.
I still remember
you said, You are a blue dandelion
A pile of time is moist and flawless.
You can gently touch a blade of grass with your fingertips.
That futon is holding up all the way from March.
Flowers are accompanied by brocade robes.
I've never been lonely.
My fingertips hold up a wisp of futon chasing the wind.
Where is home < In my life,
I'm walking in a path of time
the grass tip is covered with dew after the rain
I'm clearing my eyes and looking forward to it
. It should be silent.
How much is the infatuation of the world of mortals?
How many gorgeous years are woven?
Whose shadow is passing by the willow corridor of youth?
Picking up a piece of light imagination.
I see the fields in September are still full of beautiful things.
The wind and frost blow down all over the place in any season.
The wings of dreams fly to heaven.
Soak in the dust, and turn around autumn piles.