2. The night is as cool as water, and I sit in the moonlight like silver. I feel like a stream, and I want to sing the songs of a lonely city like exile. I am at a loss and look around, and there is nothing. Suddenly, my voice is lost.
3, and so on, this month's fireworks burned out, will I still keep my heart in the city, letting the fleeting time boil the past that has long since disappeared, so that those feelings flying alone will no longer be ferocious, such as white jade in the breeze.
4. I've read the end of the world, and I'm so sad. There is nothing to say at the end of the flower, and the green window is spring. I'll tell you under the acacia lamp that I have a new love and an old hatred for Qian Qian. The most important thing is that the world can't stay, and Zhu Yan's words are reflected in the mirror.
5. Flowers bloom on the other side, flowers bloom on the other side, flowers bloom without leaves, leaves grow without flowers, and flowers and leaves cherish each other, and there is no time to meet each other forever. It's like the world of mortals. Sometimes, it's as beautiful as a flower and as fleeting as water. You can go back to the past, but you can't go back to the beginning.
6. Walking in the misty rain and the red dust, silently perceiving the warmth and coldness of life, how much heaviness becomes light in the flowing years, how much joy becomes ethereal like a dream in the long time, and how much grandeur becomes quietly lonely in the end.
7. Because it is dull, our love sometimes drifts away from the original warm harbor; Because of curiosity, our journey will turn at a crossroads inadvertently. Just as you want to turn around, you will hear love crying in a low voice behind you.
8. Will the general come back when my hair is waist-length? This gentleman is free and unfettered, how can he expect the mountains and rivers to be rustling. At first, the sky breaks, and at dusk, the head is white and old. The cold sword silently listened to the thunder, and the pike stood alone in the empty trench. Drunk lying on the battlefield, you don't laugh, and you blow your horns all night. Late visitors from the south of the Yangtze River, red rope knotted hair tip
9. Lonely ecstasy, put out the lonely lamp, and go with the shadow of the hate lamp. Full of sadness, I still remember, but it is an old acquaintance. Tears in my heart alone, whispering farewell hate. It's a thing of the past. It's hard to be attached to the lost god when the chair is empty. Heart with Qian Shan, is the setting sun.
1. Listen to the agility of the breeze and the softness of the lotus. I am expressing my heart word by word. Is your figure thinner than lotus? When there is no dragonfly hovering, your mood is not as good as a low lotus language, and it fades more slowly than a lotus flower that has lost its fragrance.
11. The sunshine is bright and stained with the dust of the years. The city is too lonely to live up to its beauty. When the wind blows and the clouds disperse, it ends with an imperfect interpretation, devouring too demanding gentleness, and finally leaving this no suspense bet, which outshines others.
12. Take a copy of the past events in the south of the city, insert it into the pages of memory, and leave a line of fine print on the title page of your heart. At that time, watching a pear blossom moon, lying on a pillow of begonia wind against a wisp of green poplar smoke, the four seasons seemed to be interpreted in a queque poem chapter, full of romance, and singing all the flat and graceful in the morning.
13. He is her heart and she is his heart. I can't help feeling deep but shallow. Give me three thousand pen and ink to paint you beautiful. Listen to the string break, break the 3 thousand infatuation. Falling flowers, oblivion, once the wind ripples. If the flower is pitiful, it will fall on whose fingertips. Who scattered the smoke and scattered the vertical and horizontal ties.
14, the night is so light; So gentle, rolling up layers of soft thoughts. Streams rise with the wind, trampling on thoughts all the way with parting. The snowflake dances softly, and the leaf that falls on the willow tip is light; There is a surge of sadness in your heart that you can't imagine