Spring, as a flower, quietly blooms in my dream, so gentle and soothing. There is a faint fragrance, accompanied by graceful and bleak songs, occasionally mixed with a few crisp bird songs, the green hills are faint and the green waters are far away. All this is so real and beautiful.
————— Inscription
Let the dream fly, my dream is the most beautiful.
Make a cup of fragrant tea, show a book and express a state of mind.
Sit by the window and let your expectant eyes spread out the dull notes you expect.
At the end of April, the fragrance of ink spilled gently in the faint moonlight. Dark green mountains, gurgling rivers, dotted with lights, dotted with hazy and blurred night.
who is it? Stroking the strings, ten thousand turns.
who is it? Sending a flute is ethereal and euphemistic.
That tender and lingering bleak, with the wings of the breeze, swings away the misty fog, steals my eyes, and gently knocks on my empty city with a indifferent attitude. Knock on the wind chime I hung on the tower, crisp and moist, ringing in my heart, shocking people, and having a deep dream in my heart. In my mind, an antique picture of Danqing unfolds.
For whom, even if you light the lamp and plan ahead,
For whom, pen and ink, the west wing looks at the moon,
You are the deep affection of pen and ink, the tenderness of thought, and a ray of sunshine in ink, like the moon and stars. Pass through this charming wheat straw in Gree Kang Paradise, twist a yearning into this soothing wind, let it wrinkle and make a pool of clear water in the heart of the sea.
My heart is immersed in this fragrant realm, and the ink is curled up. That kind of deep affection is mixed with the blood in the bones, and the cool wind in the sleeve is like a gasp, lingering in the world of the heart, like a shadow. Send a beautiful and ethereal bleak song to wake up the fallen flowers on the ground. Let the fragrance embrace the spring breeze, let the petals shed rain all over the sky, the grass is like flowers, the eyebrows are focused, and even the sky is blue. Since then, the mind has merged, and heaven and man are one!
Life is like a dream, dreams are like life.
Red dust, red dust.
Turn over a roll of Tang poetry and Song poetry to show a clear rhythm of Yuan music. Those graceful poems, those graceful voiceless sounds, those graceful words are constantly intertwined with countless emotions. As the eyes keep turning on the yellow pages of the palm of your hand, a series of classical ink painting scrolls full of vicissitudes are presented in front of you.
The fence hides green hills and bamboos, and the humble room hides thousands of books.
The mountains are beautiful and the water is blue, and the grass in the thatched cottage hides the desert.
Smoke is light, green fields are thick, and several egrets are stationed in Jinsong.
In Wan Li, Xia Guang, the morning sunshine curled up the sad voice of young people.
This kind of seclusion lives by the mountain and by the water. Smell the birds in the morning, smell the flowers at night, build a fence around the fence, catch the wind and listen to the warmth. The realm is deeply rooted in my romantic life, and I am full of pen and ink with a simple heart. On the simple notes of life, the horse is on the reins, the soul dreams of flying and meeting the world.
I only hope that when you are lonely and empty about wine and loneliness, you can sweep away the misty fog in front of my eyes like a ray of sunshine and wash away my gloomy lead.
What is my heart without you in this life?
I have you in my life, so I am afraid of death.