Land; A drop, at night, the night is longer.
I am at this end of the mainland, and you are at the other end of the mainland. We look at it from a distance across Eurasia and think about it from a distance. I don't know when it will end.
Living is meeting by chance. Past lives, with a quick glance and a falling eye, tells the story from birth to death through the dust of the soul. Meet a moment, freeze a moment, and last forever. Red beans are born in island countries, and peas send acacia.
It's not my fault that I met you. A sea of people, we didn't know each other when we met. But you and I, who never agreed, met unexpectedly and met each other late. Just a glimpse of the crowd, God knows the moment, let people where will you go. The heart is tangled, and it hurts more than eternity. Who can know my sadness? I can't say it, it's hard to say it, just for those who can't figure it out.
This life is only for meeting, and Wan Li has gone through many hardships. The suffering of fate has blossomed and accumulated its own unique aura, and its stubbornness, wildness and mysterious temperament that disdains the secular reveal its unique personality. The source of the soul in the depths of life, the shimmer of the empty valley and the blue sky flickering, faintly pointing to the unknown. In the distance, Peach Blossom Spring, Peach Blossom Creek ..., stumbling and wandering around, the loess slopes and gullies are flat and faint, shouting the roughness of life.
That year, Na Yue, that day, that moment, that place, met that you. The love of past lives, the fate of this life, and the hope of the afterlife are all telling a fate adventure. An unspeakable pain, "thinking", always haunts the apex of my heart, deep, heavy and heartbreaking. Wood-eye-heart, but tangled. That year, that day, that moment, that place, I met you. That look, that feeling, that want to cry, but I can't cry.
In late spring, Lin Hong was in a hurry and wanted to stay. When the wind blew, she drew a small circle in the air and wanted to stay. The wind is falling, the cold white light and the falling English are intertwined and dancing up and down, depending on each other, always flying forward, trying to fly, trying to fly, and finally disappearing into the distant unknown sky.
The first night, dark, not even a star? Quiet, cold, dark, desolate and boundless. How are you tonight? Outside the window, rain drops on the leaves, ticking, dripping, for a long time; A drop, empty; A drop, confused, the heart is also facing the distance.
In the dream at night, butterflies fly away one after another, to the boundless land of the night. The building of the heart has been deserted for a long time, and the heart blooms after the rain. Some people call it "the flower of spirit". Unusual flowers, butterflies around flowers, lingering for a long time, flowers reflecting butterflies, butterflies reflecting flowers, or disappearing into the distant sky ... Maybe they will never see each other again, maybe they will come back tomorrow.