It will be sunny tomorrow, I wonder if it will rain.
The moon is hazy, forgetting this elegant festival that is about to wander in the world. Listening to the Qingming rain in Vae, I recall the past and the old dreams of the world of mortals alone.
Many nights ago, I didn't want to crawl in the real world, and then, against the backdrop of moonlight, I tasted Chun Xue with Chinese style and looked forward to the small ancient rhyme that was cached. I don't want to grow up, but year after year, I pay attention to the water, and it is clear year after year.
I like to float my hair in the drizzle, suddenly silent, naturally pluck a few strings and play a human melody. Time flies, the dream of tile house, stone road and moss green mark outside the home is broken in memory. At that time, that time, that time.
The past is like smoke and the night is cool, so an old friend drinks before the bright moon. There is no trace in the window, and my thoughts are broken. Who wants to sleep in the bead curtain with me?
I don't want to completely strangle myself in the so-called reality, but I still fantasize that I am so unconscious, ignoring all eyes and forgetting all the burdens.
During the Qingming Festival, there are many rains, and the ancient rhyme will always be warm in spring and cool in summer, regardless of the impermanence of the universe.
Yesterday, on the Taihang Mountain, the peaks and peaks were overlapping, but they stood still in an empty space, with hundreds of millions of annual rings. They saw through the fierce days of kites, the shallow bottom of fish, the feelings of misty rain, the stars of the sun and the moon, and wood carvings, and buried their feelings deeply between cliffs. So I began to hesitate. I couldn't find what you were hiding. Good thing I found it. Taihang Mountain is clear. You hid the tears of years in the eyes of those mirrors, and the rain wet your eyes. Then you smiled and asked pedestrians to wash their hands with the mountain spring she had worked so hard to beat. Silent hints, graceful stooping and wrinkles of that day brought me to Taihang Mountain. Things are human, people are emotional, and tears have been torn.
Tomorrow will be sunny, sunny and rainy.