Smoke, like fog, lingers.
The breeze blew and the rain slanted into a bead curtain.
Dance music accompanied by raindrops,
The past touched a chord.
The rain gently caressed the flowers and plants,
This poetic painting,
Reminds me of a thousand unforgettable attachments.
I wanted to walk in the rain that year.
The intimate heart becomes extremely soft under the moisture of rain and dew.
The pounding heart, drunk the already dried-up heart.
That tenderness lingers in time. .
Hold your hand,
Through this storm, let love run aground in this year.
Embrace each other's years, drunk peach blossom, drunk your eyebrows and mine.
Standing on the ferry of time,
Describe your infatuation with your heart.
Looking at your distant back,
I picked up the warmth in despair,
Cherish it carefully, in every dead of night,
Indulge in it and let love fill the book.
The wind is light and the clouds are light, and the autumn moon is curved.
The bleak past was folded into frost.
The dream is falling, and the love-hate complex is in the brow.
Looking like the past,
Open the stationery of memory,
There is a trace of regret in the wind of memory,
Residual thoughts, flooding in this autumn.
Who will miss the gently elongated figure?
Who is heartbroken for love?
Let thoughts drift away in the moonlight
Tossing and turning in the night breeze.
Flowers bloom and fall several times,
Through a thousand years of infatuation.
Think about the depths of the misty rain,
A thousand promises we made in the gentle breeze and drizzle.
Still vaguely echoing in my ears.
Old dreams when I was young, romantic things.
I have buried my former happiness.
Tears blurred the remaining notes.
Big sleep, shallow thoughts,
Through the gap of time,
Fall on your gentle forehead.
I seem to hear your beating heart,
Ah! You in the world of mortals are also looking forward to it.
The once wet heart is still so soft,
Mixed heart, moist obsession,
Still full of foreheads.
Drunk, wet heart.
Entangled with each other,
Always tangled!