The spring breeze was gone yesterday, and the drizzle brought me home. The water was green, the clouds were white, and the fallen flowers remained in the white places. The breeze gently spreads the green on both sides of the bank, causing ripples in my heart, a boat with misty clouds, and a line of disconnected thoughts.
A petal playing tricks on misty rain, dancing lightly and fragrant. A few green buds and a cup of fragrant tea are warm, clear and full of deep light.
The colors of flowers exaggerate the seasons, and who plays and sings in this tone, singing the melancholy of the seasons abandoning us. The mood is uneasy, the color changes from green to green, and the tenderness of the vegetation breaks my heart.
The past appears clear and disturbing at first, but gradually becomes blurred and forgotten after passing through the seasons. The panic when I lift up the pen to write is brought to the sea of ??my heart.
When spring comes, the wind is warm and the insects know it, and the rain falls silently, making fun of the world. In spring, the flowers are fragrant, the butterflies are fluttering, and the clouds are lingering, hiding feelings. When spring comes, the small building was sleepless last night, and love rises and time falls.
Time passes without a trace, everything in the world is fleeting, and the fallen flowers that blinded the eyelids write down the beauty of a certain period of time. The fragrance of flowers is filled with the melody of the years, but fickle people have no long-lasting love for plants and trees, which can be remembered Every time I sway.
The light and shadow of the grass and trees in the Grain Rain are all poetic. A sudden breeze makes the grass and trees greener, and the colors of the fallen flowers are about to be exhausted. My heart is far away with the spring, and the spring warms the world.
Spring returns to the old age, don’t be too sentimental, the sun is still bright and eager, the flowers are fragrant all season long, and the green waves are swaying. Time gently buries the spring scenery, forming a passionate love.
Looking at the boat of time with a soft heart, it goes slowly away, and a few tunes sing the endless beauty of spring.
With a soft heart, count the fleeting years and wait for those who rush to make promises in the years.
With a soft heart, I write the reason of the season and the sultry spring scenery on the unfinished petals.
Longing for leisure, but able to walk in the poetry of the seasons, spring rain makes tea, lotuses sway, frost condenses the leaves, and wintersweet grows in rows.
The soft drizzle drops from the throbbing clouds in the wind, swaying, blending into the river of lovesickness, with a glance, the ups and downs of emotions, and the endless melancholy in the heart.
A flower blooms, coming from the small courtyard of human fireworks, withering and colorful, with the calmness of light and shadow, and how much sadness is hidden in the dancing figure.
A little rain falls on the plantains, a few spring flowers bloom, and the shadows of lotuses are seen in the light and shadow of the season. In the passing scenery, every place is like a return journey. When you place your feelings on the vegetation, you will have the gentleness of the vegetation in your heart. All your thoughts are entrusted to the ink made from fallen flowers. The faint fragrance of the flowers writes summer in every pen.
In the changing seasons, there is a mixture of joy and sorrow, and all the thoughts are written on the clouds and drift away. Then it was blown away by a wind in a certain season.
The spring scenery is gradually fading away, the colorful fallen flowers are full of fatigue, and it is difficult to pay attention to the gurgling stream. This is a practice. The Sanskrit sounds sung in bursts are all natural and plain. If there is sadness in the heart, everything will be peaceful if the wind comes and forgets it.
Drink a glass of wine with the fragrance of flowers, half drunk and half awake and sing the sorrow of lovesickness. Lingering thoughts, forgetting worries, hard to find, hard to possess, it is also difficult to wake up in the world.
Life is like a dream that has been wasted. How many years have been lost, leaving only half a cup of thin wine in this life, a drink, a song, sadness for the past, and sadness of nostalgia, just like the mist and rain in the world of mortals.
The ink dipped in the fragrance of flowers outlines the appearance of the years one by one, and the long time is written line by line. After thousands of twists and turns, it can be quiet and peaceful, and return home peacefully. The time spent writing each word is short, and seeing the flowers blooming and falling, it is as dull as water in the end.
Among the scenery of the four seasons in the world, the most eye-catching one is spring. The fragrance of petals floats in the water, a drop of smoke condenses on the tip of the pen, the small building listens to the rain, the red umbrella rains in the alley, the green moss is green, the vegetation is full, and the fishing fire turns into smoke. The scenery is picturesque.
I always like to look at time with a soft heart. It will naturally give us tenderness. We don’t have to be overly happy because of the colorful flowers, and we don’t have to be too sad because of the ruthless falling flowers. Everything in our hearts is beautiful. The clouds can go away with the wind, lingering in the mist and rain, pouring more green.
At the end of the prosperity, there is still the sound of flowers in my heart, and the sound echoes gently in the silent valley.
The drizzle brings about a hundred grains, the season is still beautiful, the spring breeze can fill your eyes after a temporary farewell, and the fragrance of flowers on the sleeves is the best.
The pictures in this article are all from the Internet.