The breeze is rushing, wrinkling a bay of clear water, and the mist is like yarn, wrapped in mountains and rivers, and far away.
A few birdsongs bring the breath of spring. The birds are more and more cheerful, which means that spring is getting closer and closer.
Liu Zhu lifted the veil of the spring girl, and the grass struggled to get up from the soil, spitting out a little green shoots from the roots, and the branches tried to get rid of the yellow leaves in the wind, expecting more thick green in spring.
When spring comes, everything begins to update or make a more vivid gesture than before.
Turquoise cannot be eliminated. Whether it's the autumn killed by Xiao or the winter, no matter how thick the snow is, it can't stop the dazzling turquoise in people's eyes, just like my thoughts.
Second,
Maybe the moon in my memory is too round, the sky is shining everywhere, the crystal at one end is bright, the stream is gurgling and the flat ground is soft.
Perhaps my young growth was too comfortable, full of parties, pavilions and rows of lanterns.
Maybe I'm too nostalgic, a row of square tables, a room full of flowers and ringing bells.
I am affectionate, scooping water and holding the moon, lingering in the sea of flowers. Finally, the hand has a lingering fragrance and is immersed in the flowers.
Maybe I'm a bookworm, and I'm worried about my mind. If you listen less, you will lose your humor and lose your peach color.
Maybe it's obsession. I'm moved bit by bit. Accumulate in memory, let it warm winter snow and bake plum rain.
Third,
You are very gentle. The oriole perched on the branch, singing the song of the morning bell and the evening drum.
You have tenderness, the rain is thin, and the breeze is blowing on your face. The pavilions are elegant and surrounded by bamboo pavilions and flying swallows.
You smell good. Summer and spring are like plums, and the wind is refreshing.
You have real feelings. Mountains and water are waiting, clear and beautiful. A lyric, sung for thousands of years.
You are like a butterfly. Show off your thin feathers, soar in the sky and play with clouds.
Fourth,
You and I met at the ferry in Qiao Feng. Snowflake season. Meeting with beautiful eyes, fate: for you and me, the same is light and distance, and the distance contains light.
There are nights, and it is easy to make people think at night. I started thinking. I didn't write.
Love is the theme of people, and gathering is my theme. I sit at the crossroads of fleeting time, waiting, waiting for your appearance. Waiting for you to bake a winter bonfire together.
Five,
No one can leave the lost years in the palm, only those memories and memories toss in the palm. The years are slowly disappearing, the past is slowly becoming the past, fading and fading in time, and the years will kill people with precipitation and silence. But only the once smile will not be destroyed or forgotten because of the passage of time. People always need to remember some warmth and kindness.
The world is so big and small that we can't see its sides and bottom. Length and depth are only imaginary detection. No one dares to say that the world is limited, that peeing in such a big circle without depth can always meet you or you when you look up. There is infinite warmth and kindness in the infinite world. A warm and lonely figure, like a fire rising in winter snow, will make people forget all the cold and cold. Playing cold is not the ability to be elegant in the frost wasteland, nor the ability to carve wood in the cold night. Imagine, without the warmth of love, who can walk out of loneliness in the long night? Kindness, like the sunshine in summer, can melt the ice in my heart into a pool of clear water, a round of Ming Che's watermark moon, and thousands of soft feelings will fill a lonely person's heart with hopes and dreams.
Love is a Hongqiao. Beautiful and gorgeous, it is not only a necessity for peace, but also food for walking. When you are in love, you will be noticed and explored. Travel all over the world, just looking for love or looking for love doors and windows. When you open the doors and windows of love, you find that those who are sentient and predestined friends will become the creators and conclusions of love. They enjoy the sweetness of love safely in the cave after the merger of love. And I, we, are just the gestation of love, walking in a well in the desert and in a bonfire after heavy rain. Precious things that cannot be missing or lost. Embrace each other on the bridge of fate, and still visit each other with care and memories after hugging.
Are you okay? You won't know much just by looking at it. Maybe your sideburns have turned white under the torture of years, or your beauty has faded under the destruction of disease. As long as there is a heart that understands each other, the ginkgo in front of the door will go straight into the sky, and the world will still overflow with lotus fragrance in the pool of your heart and mine, right? That's why you float from time to time, and that's why I keep flashing. After all, as long as you wait and travel in the open world, you will always get a heartfelt answer, because there is still a bridge in the world, no matter how far or how deep, that is meeting. As long as we don't get stuck in nostalgic paper, you and I will always meet on the bridge. Although tens of millions of people cross the bridge every day, they will be squeezed out of their wallets, but the familiar figure and smile are engraved in your mind and can't be erased.
Because I know, I know. Know that softness is the bond of love and that love is the foundation of existence. Mutual trust, coupled with mutual concern, will also have the motivation to embark on the road of the cloud. No matter you grow old in the years, or I am buried in the yellow sand of rivers and lakes, that understanding will never change, and that softness will always be tied to the threshold of memory.
Love produces understanding and trust, as well as care and worry. It will also make the ink cloud light and let the stars shine in the dark night. And the light in my heart will always shine on that bridge, according to you coming from the bridge, and your thoughts will no longer be piled up and shattered, and my sky will be blue, and the green grass at the bridge will be like jade.
Love is always there. If you are well, it will be sunny.