The phoenix is in pairs, flying around in misty rain and autumn. Now, the phoenix is gone, and the phoenix stays empty. The following are 15 ancient style compositions, welcome to read. Antique composition 1
Deep in the misty rain, a pillow of blue dreams is thin alone.
whose brush, dipped in the moonlight, paints the other side of the Mekong River with a touch of blue, which is light and curled, and cages the yard beside the water. It also cages a blue-dyed heart, and the clouds disperse and gather again. Those deep and shallow blues are thick and light, and the light is extremely strong.
However, I remember that year, under the same blue moon, a blue shirt came from Qian Shan, and the wind and dust started, and the bamboo curtain rolled up, which was too late to lift my eyes. On the string of water, a wave of light trembling was drawn, and the water was blue and splashed, and the plain white skirt was put on, and the Zhilan gradually opened.
The moonlight knocks on the window and dances with the candle shadow.
the eyes in the rhombic mirror flow, blushing for a graceful gesture, but Diane's eyebrows look back, smiling and asking about the depth.
Under the mahogany comb, the long hair is like a waterfall, the wrist is lightly lifted, the clouds are piled up on the green temples, and a jade hairpin is thrown, and the soft words are whispered all over the floor.
the sound of the flute comes from the depths of the dragon's back, with a long, clear sound. It weaves a simple note around the color of the moon, and the book is warm and full of joy.
I thought this was my life, but I don't know how many degrees the full moon is missing. The time in my palm is like an hourglass. When autumn is deep, my blue shirt is already standing.
When the years run over the rhyme of Song Ci over and over again, it hurts more than expectation.
under the erosion of bitterness, the pale blue dream language fades day by day. Whenever the new moon rises, the choked piano sound can't call back the passing years, and the sadness condenses into frost flowers, climbing up the moss inch by inch and getting old.
The moonlight is light and cold, which cools the parting feelings in the book slips. Silent words can't describe the desolation of a city. Fold the brocade book layer by layer, pay the smoke and dust, and wash away the old year with tears only after the bluebird sleeps.
In the past years, when the sunshine and drizzle pulled the last trace of blue away, the pure white dream soothed the dull pain that appeared and disappeared.
There are thin shadows escaping into the window, reflecting the idle scrolls, and between the lonely lines, a little warmth is circled, and the skirts are finely touched.
Only when I opened the dusty door did I realize that the long-lost morning light had quenched the sky into light gold. With a sigh of relief, when the eyelashes are moving, the dream has landed lightly and calmly.
The sound of the flute started again, rolling up a pear tree and flying snow, and burying the injury under the moon and the cold at midnight.
Look up, the sky is blue; Low eyebrows, blue sea.
Cut a wisp of jade-like blue to weave a dream in the morning light, compose a few petals of white clouds and the clarity of the waves. On the dream handkerchief with white flowers on the blue background, there is no wind, no moon, no resentment and no anger, and from then on, it is full of earthly safety. Antique composition 2
Looking back lightly, there are always some memories that sneak into my heart in the depths of the fleeting time.
The dust and smoke have passed, and the youth is extremely prosperous. How many misty rains are there in the south of the Yangtze River?-Inscription
The south of the Yangtze River is the hometown of rain, and the rain is the coat of the south of the Yangtze River, while the rain lane is the woman of the south of the Yangtze River, graceful and gentle, like a dream.
The gentle ripples in circles have dizzy a boat full of misty rain in the depths of the south of the Yangtze River. I still remember that I accidentally found this ink painting in that mottled afternoon, and I forgot the way when I came. Several people, blue bricks and tiles, painted doors and copper rings, gently and shallowly evoke the long-cherished dream of Jiangnan and the rainy lane in my heart.
As soon as I bowed my head, I outlined Nong's appearance, a wet slate with moss and naughty feet. The eaves and corners of the temple doors with ancient rhyme are still winding with the beautiful face of the world-famous glass; In the small attic where scarlet fades, a touch of Leng Xiang blooms in the window lattice. I recalled the radian of the corner of my mouth and secretly stared at Nong's smile, for fear of breaking the rare silence in this world. The distant fragments of time, dripping, clear and ethereal, this rain, a pool of clear water, are gradually clear in the soft language of Wu Nong, and the laughter of women slapping each other is still so clear and loud. Five years' time has been taken away by running water, with cherries turning red and plantains turning green. How many stories are flowing in words, and how many dreams are looking back? Are we still the original appearance? < P > On that day, we were wandering alone in this long and lonely rain lane, wearing a blue cheongsam and holding an oil-paper umbrella. That should be the unique charm of oriental women, slender and delicate, as if it were a water. Turn your eyes lightly, Nong's deep and clear pupil will drop the fairy on earth if you don't pay attention to it, but you can't hide the elegant temperament of Nong's heart, a snowflake, and fall off Nong's skirt. At the end of the rainy lane, you will tell your autumn heart. The breeze accompanied by drizzle brought a trace of lilac sorrow, as if seeing the lilac flowers, one after another frowning in the rain, so affectionate, perhaps contaminated with her unique fragrance, floating in this long alley, and the sad Nong added a ray of tranquility.
The moonlight hangs over the quaint alley like a diamond gauze, and a guzheng song floats in the air, with a long and tactful tone, looking at the end of the world, full of acacia, only to whom every note goes, drifting thousands of miles away. I wonder, has he ever heard this song played with his soul? When asked what the evening is, Nong knows who is the flower in her heart. It turned red all night, and it was like a dream. The drunken shadow passed by and caught a glimpse. In this light and rainy alley in the south of the Yangtze River, it was a flower affair, but it was finally scattered and far away. A drop of clear tears upset the strings. After many years, I only remember that Nong's white clothes are like snow, rich and fragrant, as intoxicating as a hundred years of aging, but it has always blurred Nong's face and can only be a sad sigh.
pick up your emotions, salvage the bits and pieces left behind in the depths of the fleeting time, and dream back to Jiangnan between reincarnation. How deep is the rain lane? I walked across the south of the Yangtze River, staring at Nong's eyes, not asking about the time, not complaining about parting. Never forget, never leave. Meet in the depths of the fleeting time, and talk about the rainy situation in the Millennium. Antique composition 3
A period of red dust, a long-cherished wish of silence, a period of sadness, a period of desolation, a period of meeting, a period of injury, a period of separation, a period of encounter, a lot of helplessness. The attachment in this life has become the most beautiful opportunity in my life, and the pity in this life has also become the most painful scar in my life.
the old scene suddenly disappears. In the reflection of the past, the face of the wind has disappeared, and all the fragments of the story have been buried in the abyss of time. The vague outline in the dream moistens the memory, and the hatred left by the sentimental emptiness is so disappointing.
The cold wind blows off the lovesick maple leaves, and the lonely thoughts have a mottled taste, which adds a little bitterness and sadness to the heartache of parting. The world of mortals is boundless, and my heart is raining. I don't know who else will brush away the wind, frost and coolness for the vicissitudes of my brow.
it's a hazy night, and it's cold everywhere. In the snowy night, the lonely lonely shadows are scattered all over the ground, and the lingering thoughts are entangled in the songs, which has crushed the passers-by season after season. The lingering dream of this life is hard to tell the sadness of parting, which endows Nong with a long poetic rhyme, and endows him with love and dependence, and for Nong ... Perhaps, everything is just his own wishful thinking.
Looking back on my life for one night, I will meet you for a lifetime, meet you for an instant, and cherish you forever. The bitter sweetness of sharing happiness with others, the whispers and laughter in my ears, all turned into parting sacrifices in a sigh.
keep your eyes on the sky. There is no Nong in this life's dust and rain. I am from He Huan. Gently flick away the dusty sleeves, bid farewell to the clouds of acacia, and throw your full worries into the surging river, but I wonder if there is still waiting at the end of the vicissitudes of life. Several times of wind and rain, several times of tears, persistent thoughts left eternal desolation.
Affectionate and empty, leaving behind hatred, leaving each other after injury since ancient times. Everything before has become a life-long memory, searching and searching, cold and clear, passionate and always hurt mercilessly, parting and hating.
since ancient times, I've been full of affection and hate, and I want to sing acacia to the moon.
Good dreams wake up at the beginning, and if the tears drop, they will be cleared. Antique Composition 4
Summer is not far away, and autumn in Qiu Lai is not over;
in the world of mortals, love lasts for a long time.
brooding is a thousand feet long, and the rain falls on the flowers;
remembering yesterday's feelings is a dream.
the sadness of falling flowers is exhausted after the autumn rain, and every piece is sad and withered.
Only the injured can read the sigh of falling flowers.
fallen flowers can write their sadness in their dreams heartily, because the rotation of seasons can make them re-interpret the beauty of life, while life's youth, ideals, happiness and fleeting time ... are a one-way ticket, and live broadcasts are being staged every day. No matter right or wrong, happiness and pain, ownership or loss, they will never return, so I think the perfect life will be a little lonely.
everyone's life is flawed, and they all expected the ideal of this life to be perfect, and they tried to be perfect, and the ending will eventually be unsatisfactory.
The bitterness of youth is a kind of tempering of people's will by life, and it has become a lot of wealth when it grows up. When Nong had ownership, happiness, caring for each other, being in the same boat through thick and thin, holding hands sincerely, and meeting each other for a long time. But suddenly one day Nong lost these things, and then Nong found that it was much easier to lose than to get them.
If you lose it, let it be lost, no more memories, no more interpretations, no more sadness, no more bitterness ... That is to understand the real benefits of life; It would be a bit futile for Nong to blindly immerse himself in painful sadness, winding around, floating and sinking, knowing that fate and feelings are an unsolvable equation, but struggling to find the answer.
The melancholy of the world of mortals has left me confused and confused. I have blurred my former appearance by wading through the water, only to find that my heart is thinner than yellow flowers, but the answer is a boring excuse.
Love is broken when it is broken.-Don't deliberately step on the broken bridge again.
if the flowers fall, they will fall, so don't miss the colorful flowers.
if you forget something, forget it, so don't tear the wound with memories.
Daiyu, who buried flowers, did not bury her loneliness, sadness and melancholy together.
Life is like a dream, just like catkins falling in the air. No matter how short it is, it should show the prosperity of a season. If it is always lonely, how can we see the perfection of life? Life should be perfect.
Flowers bloom every day, and the coming year will be more beautiful! Antique composition 5
In a detour, I stroked a trace of acacia in the world of mortals, turned into clear tears in the corner of my eye, injected into the cool pen tip, and flowed between the cool lines. In a hurry, I made a plain pen for Nong, and the ink was filled with the warm spring flowers that Nong gave me, which warmed my life. In my mind, in my eyes and on my lips, I mumbled a white lotus that bloomed for me before. The lotus heart is sunny, the lotus leaves are blooming and the lotus is like a dream. In the past, I was used to remembering Nong, remembering the luxuriant and green that Nong gave me, his gentle arms and his company in the world of mortals. Now, I would like to make myself prosperous all my life, sing to the moon and dress up the flowers.
in the fireworks, I picked a lump of plain soil, shoveled the soil with my hands around the fence, buried the flower embryo in the soil, and placed my plain heart in the elegant moment. I look forward to the fragrance of the garden when the flowers are in full bloom, and I also wait for the coolness and elegance when I return to the earth. Holding the fragrant soil in my hand, I pour my feelings into it, hoping that I can achieve a prosperity there in the coming year, and this prosperity is created by myself, and I don't need to entrust anything else, and I don't need to wait for anything else. A person can also interpret a bustling scene in the world of mortals to the fullest, and can also release his overflowing emotions in a sloppy way.
I like to be alone more and more, watching the sunset glow like a drunk, blushing face and sleeping quietly in the distance of the bamboo building. I don't care about the strangeness of the world, I just want to release my true self. I feel the whole orange sky, covering myself tightly, just like a blooming flower, blooming only for me, surrounding my heart and softening my feelings.
I wandered around the floating world just to pursue the light after the first touch of snow. I searched during that time just to move my heart placed on Nong away from the depths of the world of mortals and lock a quiet one. With a blazing heart, I walked under the vast sky, imagining that Sanmao was with me and Lin Huiyin was with me, so my heart was no longer lonely.
in the rhyme of the past fleeting years, I can't forget the sadness. I used to be a woman who threw herself into the fire for loving moths. I was also a sentimental woman who felt when the spring flowers and the autumn moon came and how much I knew about the past. It's just that all this, clearly understand that passing away is like water, and still wait foolishly, waiting for the yellow thoughts, waiting for the thin persistence. Looking back now, I find that I am waiting for others to give me a prosperous life, and finally I only get the end of burying flowers alone. Then, slowly understand that some things, lost, let it fall like flying catkins, the heart has nothing to send, and the heart is drifting in the vast sky. There are some things that I don't have to ask others for, just like weak water of 3 thousand, and I don't need to take a gourd ladle, so I can go away safely and calmly.
I'm just a tiny little girl in the world of mortals. But even so, I can still twist a lotus flower to fill my color, take the stars all over the sky as my bright eyes, and pick violets all over the ground to make my skirt. I can do it without arguing or grabbing, but I can't survive in a unkempt way. I only hope that I can perform my own wonderful performance on a three-inch stage in the sunshine of one meter, without cheering, but my heart can be full.
If you don't expect others to give you a prosperous feast, you can give yourself a prosperous life. When the prosperity is exhausted, you don't have to lose it. Because, the next prosperity is still opened by Nong at any time. Antique composition 6
Late autumn leaves fall and fall like a guest.
The flowing water has passed several times, and it has gone through many vicissitudes with the wind.
last night, it was drizzling, and my dream was broken.
The lush trees are blue, dark and yellow in the evening light. Occasionally, a few pieces of dead leaves that can't stand erosion are scattered on the bluestone platform, like the last thoughts of nostalgia for life. The air is filled with the unique charm of autumn, mixed with rustling autumn wind, which is thought-provoking.
It's getting colder and colder after a rain. The rain drips and flows like ink, like paint and ink. There are still clouds in the sky after the rain. The distant sky is dyed with a little red dress, which reflects each other with the earth like an ink painting.
the sadness is getting farther and farther, and my heart is tender, and my eyes are full of tears. Does growing up mean parting and missing? If every gathering can make us feel the long-lost love and care, then why do we love it well when we love it, and there will be no regrets when we leave? Perhaps this is growth, the end of the world that belongs to one person alone, the hoarseness of one person ...
The autumn wind is rustling, and people are also astringent. The years flow from your fingertips, and a wave of misty rain rises. The fallen leaves are mixed with tears and fall with the autumn rain. The leaves that are yellow and green are mottled with time, and you are reluctant to leave and miss it.
time flies, local accent, and the moon is around.
in the golden autumn, the flute is long and the dream comes back to the beginning. 7
After all, life is full of prosperity, like a dream, and there are always too many sorrows to let go ...
The night wind is cold, and the past is always like smoke in water under the bridge, which is beyond recognition. Now, there is only one lonely heart, and I feel sorry for myself ...
I am a humble room, but I am virtuous. Looking inside and outside the fence, only the red makeup is very enchanting, and the endless crowd is always struggling. There are too many people who want to go in.