I loved you for a whole time and forgot that you spent the rest of your life. The following is the exquisite love prose I shared. Welcome to read it! Selected Works of Exquisite Love Prose (1):
I wish you a spring blossom
There is a kind of meeting, but I am not invited, but I have a heart; There is a kind of vision, not far away, but always watching; Meet mountains and rivers, meet strangers, and your bright smiling face is the warmth of the whole city in my heart. You are there, I am there, and the most perfect understanding is there, that is, witnessing the whole spring with a beautiful flower.
—— Inscription
Slim spring breeze lifted the skirt of the season. I watched the tiny dust particles falling slowly in the sunshine in front of the window, wrote shallow feelings with lonely words, let the wings of missing play up the long time, and make my heart full of tenderness, which is like a river.
I miss someone's taste, and I have a longing for it, a thrill of joy, a thousand turns of melancholy, a soulmate aftertaste, and more happiness, such as the warm sunshine in March, bright and warm, and a trace of sweetness.
it's good to meet you among thousands of people. With your days, I hold a joy, engrave the bright and beautiful, and let the happiness shine. Because of you, the plain days have color, and the sunrise and sunset have a warm aftertaste. Thank you for meeting you in this life, and my heart is no longer lonely; Thanks to such a you, I have enriched my years.
The moon is a poem, and the full moon is a painting. I hold a book in my hand. Your heart is full of fragrance, your eyes are tender and affectionate, and fireworks and earthly happiness are flowing in your heart. The distance between heart and heart is knowing each other; The distance between love and love is understanding; The distance between love and affection is appreciation, and the warmest love is companionship. Even though there are hundreds of flatteries and three thousand weak waters in the world, I only take a ladle, and time flies, and you are the most beautiful in my heart.
It's often thought that you are a charming teenager from Tang poetry and Song poetry, and I am the girl in the drizzle in the south of the Yangtze River, holding an oil-paper umbrella and walking out of the water town with a thousand-year dream, just for the moment when I met you. You are dressed in white and dancing with the wind, and my piano sounds are gentle and long. We must have the origin of past lives, and we are doomed to meet each other in this life. Otherwise, why do you know me so well, understand the melancholy in my brow, understand the faint sadness in my words, and understand my innocent smile?
Pick a thin pen, and I can't write enough tenderness. I can't tell you enough about my lovesickness. I like to see your bright smiling face and your poems. Because I like peach blossoms, you are busy and come to see the peach blossoms in March with me. I remember you once said that I am the peach fairy in your heart. In fact, did you ever understand that I just want to be the soft woman in your arms?
The fleeting wind wrinkles the ripples in my heart, thinking of you, in lonely words; Miss you, in the sleepless night, for you, I am willing to be a tree, not for the green and tall, just to be able to stay by the road you must pass; For you, I am willing to bloom into a small flower, not for the moment, but to show you the most beautiful face.
If you like someone, you can be a watchman across the mountain and water. It can also be that we never tire of holding hands and looking at each other, talking in one place and chatting in two places, whose eyes decorate whose dreams and whose love touches whose eyebrows is the eye-to-eye look, the communication between hearts, and the expression of true feelings, which is the deepest touch of years.
Swing a canoe to find the tender heart; Plant a red bean and make it the mark of the years. I will read your shadow carefully with the gentlest kindness, give you a ray of warm fragrance with a bright posture, hold your hand and smile at the years. Even if happiness is only a short stay, I am willing to devote my life to tenderness and sketch what I first saw with you.
on the road of love, I never expect to encounter many miracles, but I just want to be with someone, holding the warmth that will accompany me all the way, and never leaving or giving up in the plain years. After a long journey of gathering and parting, I am glad that there is such a you by my side, accompanying me to cry, laugh, wait, bloom and let the beauty of spring fill my fireworks world.
I really want to spend my whole life writing a poem for you. Take time as a pen, years as a note, love as a rhythm, love as a style, from romance to plainness, from beauty to white hair. In spring, peach blossoms are new, spring blossoms are blooming, I make tea with you in spring, and I make wine with you in childhood. In summer, flowers are red and willow green, singing and dancing, I and you listen to the rain under the eaves, watching the lotus in the pond, and in autumn, falling leaves are flying.
On the day when I am old, I will find a quiet cottage with you, or a courtyard full of meditation. In the warm morning sun, I will teach the breeze to read, and in the evening when I am depressed, I will talk to time about Zen. In fact, the love I want is very simple, that is, you are always there.
I want to write the story of you and me on the plain paper of spring, cutting clouds into paper, folding willows into pens, and clearing dew into ink, so as to write a legend for you and me; How much I want to bring you my thoughts on you, thanks to the breeze and drizzle. The tenderness of the eyebrows written in spring is like water, and when the peach blossom is in full bloom, you will be filled with joy, fill in a blank word and compose a heart song. It is not allowed to last forever, and it will only warm the sun in the heart and warm each other in March.
this spring, I planted a red bean from the south in the far north, and let it grow old forever. Maybe love will always turn a thousand times, maybe life will not be perfect after all. I still use a beautiful style to make you blossom in spring. It is the most beautiful mark of life when I think of it over the years. In the white years, we have never failed each other.
there is a kind of meeting, but there is no invitation, but there is a heart; There is a kind of vision, not far away, but always watching; There is a kind of love, which does not talk about getting together, but never leaves; There is a touch of feelings, like a shadow, and I am happy. Who crossed the world of mortals, played a song of mountain water, lingering sound, invited the breeze and drizzle, and urged a tree to bloom and time to flow? Who met strangers, left a corner to miss, and hid the affection of a spring river in the rhythm of green manure and red
across the mountains and high waters, I was the blank in your poem, and you were my element. A touch of heartfelt words is the feeling of ink and wash. You are here, I am here, and the most perfect understanding is also there, that is, with a beautiful flower, witnessing the whole spring. Selected Works of Exquisite Love Prose (2):
Because of you, love is called love
I am your most lovely girl. With you, I don't have to wait for other people. Because it is you, love is called love.
there are different opinions about what love is, so there is no need to talk about it.
I have expected a lot about love before. Without Me Before You, I've always fantasized about what my prince charming would look like. Will he ride a handsome white horse, like in fairy tales, and take my hand in everyone's envious eyes and run to our happy life? < P > I've fantasized for a long time, but I've never met any prince charming, and I haven't even seen a white horse. So I can't help but sigh that fairy tales are fairy tales, which are used to deceive children. Pat yourself on the head again and tell yourself softly, let's be realistic, son. There is no Prince Charming in the world. Even if there is, he will come to you after experiencing many hardships. Think like this, it seems that my heart is much calmer, so I continue to live, as usual, calmly, go to work, get off work, cook, sleep, and occasionally be in a daze, and imagine the unreachable love ... < P > Your appearance is completely unexpected, and it is completely different from the plot I imagined before. Neither in an afternoon when the sun sets, nor in a rainy town in the south of the Yangtze River, nor did the wind blow my hair that day, because I tied it up that day. Our meeting had nothing to do with romance. More, we are the passers-by who passed by, just because we looked at each other at the moment of passing by, so that thing called missing began to take root and sprout in our hearts.
we met and then fell in love.
the days of falling in love are always so happy. Like all lovers in the world, we go shopping hand in hand, hug and kiss, give each other small gifts, eat roadside barbecues and go home together. When nothing happens, we snuggle up to each other and start thinking about our future. I said, I want to be your little lady and cook for you; Give you laundry; When you work, silently accompany you; Waiting for you quietly in the night when you come home late; When you are sick, I wait for you anxiously, put an apple in your car, and sneak some snacks into your bag ... I said, I want you to be the happiest person in the world, and I want your friends to envy you. Every time I say this, your mouth goes up and you don't speak. Do you believe it?
You never promise me anything, because you know that men can't promise easily. The promises they make are all debts owed in their previous lives. You said that you can't pay them off in this life, and you will be tired if you have to pay them back later in the next life, so you simply don't make them, lest you always let them go and delay your happiness. What you say most is that I will do it with my heart, because I met you. In fact, I understand very well that you won't say anything sweet, but you will say when I have nightmares, be good, don't be afraid, I'm here;
You don't have any grandiose feats, but you will take me home after work, even if you are busy; You won't be romantic, but you will send me a blessing message on my birthday. You don't have any petty bourgeoisie, but you will wrap me in your coat when I am shivering with cold, and then tell me to put on more clothes. Be good, I have a cold, and I need to take medicine. It's very bitter and you don't like it ... So I nodded, as if I had smelled the medicine. With you, life is always sunny, you accompany me crazy and let me be naughty. You just smile, look at me, and occasionally say, will you be good and obedient?
Without Me Before You, the love in my mind is vigorous, and it will make the gods cry. After meeting you, I realized that all vigorous love will eventually be dull. If it is not dull, it is not surprising that the love that has been vowed again is just a flash in the pan. Because I love you, I want to live a dull life with you. I'm willing to grow old with you in those daily necessities. When I'm white-haired, you still call me good, but I'm still unscrupulous and naughty, and you can only shake your head and say, good, obedient, ok? < P > I often say I'm content. Without Me Before You, like all girls, I am looking forward to my Prince Charming, but now I understand that I am not looking for a Prince Charming, but someone who is willing to treat us as his princess. And you have done it, so I am very happy. Let us always cling to each other and count the spring, summer, autumn and winter in daily necessities. When the youth is exhausted, we will still hold hands. Selected Works of Exquisite Love Prose (3):
Life is like a dream, a dream is like a thousand dreams.
Whose dream is a thousand dreams, and whose books and slips are as vast as the sea, telling the vicissitudes of history and the love and hate of many infatuated children through the ages. Who is it that the crescent moon is like a hook in the autumn night, standing alone in a tall building, looking at the end of the world just to solve the loneliness of this Millennium?
I wonder why my inlaid harp has fifty strings, each with its flower-like fret an interval of youth. The waterside pavilion, burning a column of sandalwood, bowing down and tuning the piano, has a long melody and is drunk. The breeze is slightly swaying, sunny and sunny, and I have a good dream in the warm sunshine. Forgetting the geometry of the world, the right and wrong of the world of mortals, the appearance, and even forgetting who you are, is a dream that has nothing to do with the years.
Clouds are pale and the sky is high, and there are a few lines of geese. Who is that endless yearning? Chrysanthemum is yellow, the west wind is bleak, petals are falling in pieces, and it is raining like rain, but the rain is like red tears, wetting the eyes and penetrating the screen window. A season of autumn frost, the vicissitudes of life, the ripples of autumn water, the wild swimming, the fragrance of rice, and the most red leaves break people's intestines. Affectionate autumn water is a thousand-year-old eye, ethereal and melancholy, which is the opposite side of Sansheng Stone.
I don't regret the widening of my belt, which makes people haggard for Iraq. The world is full of dust, just for a drunken dream. The rain fell in Xiaoxiang, dripping and dripping, dripping with some sadness. The misty rain is hazy, the corridor is quiet and there is no trace. In the courtyard, who is reciting poems, every sentence echoes in the rain. Leaving the residual lotus to listen to the sound of rain, that is sentimental singing, maybe it has been too long, and you have forgotten me in another street and forgotten to look back. And I still look long in the dark, only for you to lose weight, loneliness has become a ruin.
Affectionate feelings have hurt parting since ancient times, which is even worse than snubbing the clear autumn festival. Where will you wake up after drinking tonight? There is a breeze in Yang Liuan. Reunion again and again, parting again and again, fate is hard to cut, love is hard to determine. In the clear autumn night, who lit a few fishing fires and brought a little starlight to this long night. Snuggle up and look at the moon, where is the hometown of dreams, where is no longer bleak. When the wine wakes up, the willow is damaged, but your dress is not seen.
Flowers drift from place to place, one kind of lovesickness, two places of leisure. Another season of melancholy, flowers bloom for a season, just to set each other off with you. It is the ruthless years like water, which takes away the years and drowns your figure. At one time, the watch in front of Taoyuan was a watch on the upstairs of Baipin Island. Perhaps this kind of lovesickness is also your leisure in the dim light. Vague eyes, holding red beans picked in the south, studying in the moonlight like gauze and fog, accompanied by red candles tossing and turning until dawn.
I live at the head of the Yangtze River, and you live at the end of the Yangtze River. I miss you every day and drink a river. The world of mortals has a long way to go. Who knows where this road leads, and at which intersection I will meet you unexpectedly and tell you my heart. Although I didn't see your flowery figure, I knew that there was always someone not far away from me. A river is full of water, and that's my missing. Do you carry a pot and drink a cup, and taste it quietly before and after the flowers, turning this lovesickness into a dream swan song and giving it to the years, don't forget it.
earth endures, heaven endures; some time both shall end, while this unending sorrow goes on and on for ever. Time has changed, the sea can be turned into a mulberry field, but this situation is still long and still intact. It's just that eternal oath, which has been kept for thousands of years, still hasn't forgotten you. Entangled and tied together, I robbed a million times. I once thought of sitting under a bodhi tree, meditated and realized, and let go of this worrying melancholy. Who knows that everything became vain, and a person wandered the streets of Lhasa and became the most beautiful lover.
Take a lazy look back at the flowers, and you are half-qualified to cultivate and half-qualified. The strings are slowly picked, the flowers are blooming, the bees are flying and dancing, and the winding path is secluded. Who left this picturesque scene and silently walked into the meditation room? Since then, the world of mortals has forgotten each other and meditated in the wind and rain. I either left or put it down. On the night when the flowers are fragrant and the moon is like a plate, the lake in that bay is rippling. Maybe the love is not over, maybe the kung fu hasn't arrived, maybe you really can't give up, maybe you really see through it, and then you really put it down.
Peacock flies southeast, wandering for five miles, which is a reluctant feeling, a promise of life and death, and a dream of genkai. Asking what love is in the world teaches people to be committed to life and death. How many infatuated children, for love, turned into pairs of colorful butterflies flying in the sky.
a dream is searched for thousands of times, and love goes deep.