One,
The new moon is curved and round. Just like I miss you, I am full and short, and I am full and short. My injured city is full of melancholy rain. It can't burn. They are tall again in the spring wind. Why are my poems always rejected by you, thinking hard? Your gate is very strong. If I am willing to drink wine bottles for one night, can I be reborn with you after parting?
Obsessed with the scenery of the afterlife, I can't catch the moon in this life. However, a cold rain that was silent in previous lives blurred my bright eyes and moistened your sunny day. On the plain of memory, you never need to carry a pen. Those poems saturated with emotion, scattered and orderly, linger on Acacia Lake, touching your signature. I would like to be the woman who sings poetry and sow the spring breeze for you under the peach blossom. Would you like to be the man who has spoiled me thousands of times and draw a picture of my return to spring on the shore of Acacia Lake?
Your other shore is my eternal destination. My poem is the remnant of your love. My tears and your sadness are like shadows, nesting in the back of previous lives. Let me open the bags of past lives and dry them. Then, plant the flower bone of love in the scenery of the afterlife and accompany you for a lifetime. Please allow me to fold the love of this life into a poem, which will take root in each other's souls and accompany you forever.
Second,
The poetry of fishing is rediscovered, projecting your ice heart. I saw you drunk with a thousand cups of acacia, but you were playing wooden fish in front of the Buddha with tears in your eyes. Under your eaves, there are still dusk wind chimes and the lost moon. In the vast acacia forest, the scattered notes are drunk and hurt, dripping on your strings, meditating on the love for the frontier and this life. Whose song is flowing in the lonely valley, trying on clothes and feathers?
The fate of dust overturning, which can't bear much sadness, has gone away. Except for the occasional poem and the spring water to Hedong, I will never see your blue boat ferry my blue waves again, with a lotus-like heart. I sit quietly in the corner of the sea, sink the sun and night on the other side, fill my wedding dress with bright or dark stars, pour my love and wait for you. Whether you come or not, I will laugh like a flower in your four seasons.
My love grows wild in your days and nights. But the past is blowing in the wind, leaving only memories. Your past life turned my present life into wine. When I was drunk, I asked romantic questions, not love. Picking a lotus flower in bud will breed thousands of acacia flowers, and your heart is like a lotus flower. At night, I wake up at dawn, and my promise in the wind is only to be remembered. If you want to go, please say goodbye to me and let me cash the most beautiful things with you in a happy look back.
Third,
The misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, lingering poems, are fine in the wind. You walk in the' sadness' of lilacs, and the last love poem is in full bloom. And I was imprisoned by a flute that wanted to fly. Whose song, immortal, dyed the corner of the lotus pond red. Whose fragrance caresses the south of the Yangtze River, dreaming of three-world love. Whose poem blew away the lovesickness, but could not have a good marriage in this life.
If this life, destined to drift like a lotus for you, or sleep like a lotus. I would like to draw the shallow fate of this life and the fate of the next life on your other side. If this life, destined to wither into a poem for you, or drunk into a curtain of lotus wind. I want to share a dream poem of buried with the dead in the spring rain. If I live this life, I am destined to shed tears for you, and every word is a blessing to you. I would like to dedicate a bodhi in your world and be reborn after leaving you. If you are alive, you are destined to smear your moonlight or blue with light ink. I would like to leave a newborn lotus flower in your lotus pond. If this life is destined to keep a faint lonely poem of fishing and fire. I would like to fly to the beautiful shore on your back.
The shadows at the end of the year are intoxicated with the songs of the night. Fill the cup of loneliness, bid farewell to the old days and step into the abyss of light, where there is your loneliness and my obsession. Residual memories leave fragrant petals. The spring of love belongs to your stranger, drifting away in the shadow of winter. In your spring, my smile is like a flower and my heart is broken. In my flower season, can I have your love words, looking back.
Fourth,
Last night was like a lotus flower. This morning, An Ruli's brain has grown into a flower, and her dream has withered. Perhaps, acacia is the pure tears of rain, smear your night sky and look for those blue eyes. Who endowed a poem with deep affection and long life, lost the delusion of this life, grew the wrinkles of time and formed sadness? Who is it, waiting for a thousand years, just to fulfill a destiny?
After a few years of love, you have a complete life. Let me fill Momoka, draw an eternal sunny day in your spring, light up your farewell troubles and indulge in acacia. Every night you whisper like a shadow. The fragrance of my love is budding, and I am writing with you. I would like to put the light of the world into the lamp of my soul, light the blue lamp of previous lives and set off three fireworks for you. Would you like to sit in a corner of the spring rain and wait for my return, even if it is a thousand years, your love will remain unchanged and your heart will remain unchanged?
I don't know what happened, but it was deep. Who gave me such a rare gift, which made me worry-free all my life and cherish it carefully? Is that you? How can I repay your love in order to tie up this long-lasting love and live with Jun I in Chang 'an? In the long run, the world treats me with misfortune, and you treat me with affection, and I am satisfied. This love, as low as dust, can bloom a flower of love, and the flowers will not fade and life will continue. With your deep love, why should I be afraid of the wind and rain? All of He Wei's things are in cool thin. Your warmth is enough to make me feel like a spring breeze, only admiring Yuanyang but not fairy.
Five,
Winter is not far away, and spring is coming. I sow acacia red beans in your winter snow, I hope you can pick them. Would you like to sow the snow in the north in my fragrance and get drunk with you? Flowers are blooming, petals are blooming, and lovesickness love words will light up every strand of my poetry in your spring, turn it into eternal lovesickness rain, and spend a good time with you? Will those lingering memories, in my spring, light up every frame in your memory and turn it into an eternal petal rain, which is inseparable from the blue and white flowers?
Soak acacia with peach blossom sachet, and send you a love letter in the afterlife to bridge the border in this life. Your love, like the blood of the sunset, as thin as a wound, soaked my tears in this life, and followed closely. I want to lean on your shoulder and brew the broken moonlight into acacia in this life, and I will never wake up in my dream. I think, in your field, gather petals and rain, and brew the heartbroken heart in the wind into a thousand-year-old flower language, clinging to life. I think, in the shadow of your happiness, pick the pure fragrance of the soul, and brew the lovers in the moonlight cup into a fairy couple in this life, and be United forever.
Six,
Stand still and wait for the wind. Let the sobbing poem get drunk and hurt, and don't complain about parting. Let the eaves of acacia take away the joys and sorrows in the wind, leaving only the joys and sorrows. I want to fly again, walk in your spring rain, lose your eyes and take your soul away. I want to listen again, give ear to your rain, bloom for thousands of years, just wait for this life. I want to sing again, standing in the snow with the intoxicating acacia roots of your years, looking forward to your return.
You are spring and I am rain. You have me and I have you. Hold an acacia umbrella, awaken spring and be beaming. I am waiting for you in the purples of spring, and you are looking for me in the misty rain of spring. The wind and rain in the south of the Yangtze River will return to strangers again, and my poems will be fragrant for you, waiting for your pity.
If you are a butterfly, I am a flower. If you are the wind, I am the cloud. If you are my warm sun, I will be the last flower of love on your branch in spring, only for you, blooming for thousands of years. Just for you, miss you for thousands of years. Just for you, convert to the world of mortals. Just for you, as quiet as Bodhi meditation. Just for you, I have a string in my brow and heart. Just for you, the past is far away in the clouds. Just for you, every word is given to you. Just for you, spend a month talking. Just for you, Sansheng entanglements ask Yue Lao. Just for you, waiting for three lives and three loves.