1, love is a constant topic, poetry is eternal elegance, love always flies in words, love always swims in poems, a river is quiet, a book is exhausted, a piano dream is scattered, love between words, discrete words, and the ink sorrow of word love.
2, purple notes, and flowers. Some tears, quietly left, gently placed on the case in the moonlight, with half a poem on it. Do you remember who is the blue case and the ink is blue? Who writes lyrics like crazy, poetry shows romantic, and writes spring and autumn. Leaning against the window, thinking as before, leaving only half a poem for you in the moonlight.
I stumbled all the way, my head was broken, my clothes were getting wider and wider, and it was difficult for you to send them, and there was not a letter. Cut candles at the west window with who? Are you complaining with empty eyes and pretending to be happy with tears? I don't know. I can only secretly bury acacia in a sad poem and see a thick stack of broken sentences and chapters through a thin time.
4. I don't pursue poetry, literature, success and sex, but only talk about realm and essence. Since the Tang Dynasty, I have been filled with the eccentric poet Lang Ke. Natural poetry articles are more difficult than the ancients. (Baskerville literature)
I wish you all the best and have a nice trip. These words must be hidden among the branches and leaves of wicker, and the message it conveys will certainly warm travelers all the way. The farewell poem at the end of Sui Dynasty said, "The wicker is broken and the flowers have all flown away. I asked the pedestrians if they would come back." Willow frequently appears in scenes and poems about parting, on the one hand, because of its special nature, and more importantly, willow is homophonic with "staying", which means staying.
6, writing love poems, singing lonely fleeting time, there is always a moment, love germinates, always in the warm eyes, put a feeling. No reason, no ending. A feeling, warm and practical. A feeling, soothing. A feeling that we understand each other. Love is beautiful, and peace has no regrets.
7, love, falling on paper is poetry; Painting is a beautiful scenery; Twisted into life, it is a picture of human fireworks, faint, leisurely, approachable, simple but gorgeous, gorgeous but not simple.
8, happiness is very simple, the left hand holding you, the right hand writing love. Our happiness is in the eyes gazing at each other, in the thoughts of meeting and leaving, in the moonlight watching outside the window, in the fragrant poems, in the silent concern, in the hand-holding place where the world of mortals is rolling, in the days when you and I embrace each other. ...
9. Planting grass, flowers and trees, poetry and painting are all spiritual and beautiful. Use words to plant flowers all the way, and write an ancient meaning with flowers. The beauty of human beings lies in the fact that time flies like a red-maned horse, while pedestrians slowly return to the world when flowers bloom. Those stories and poems are like strangers, one after another.
10, standing at the ferry in spring, walking in the world of mortals as a flower. In the shallow years, peace and tranquility, love in the heart, lotus heart crossing the world of mortals. With a ray of warm sunshine and a green flower, my life is not prosperous. Use a lamp of ink to make the traces of years graceful into simple poems, with emotion as paper, emotion as ink and heart as pen. In this spring season, I will give you some ink and incense, and the poems will be scattered in rows.
1 1, you don't have to sleep, poetry can't be blank, and when the moonlight fades, are you intoxicated with the elegance of the shallow moon? In the ancient rhyme of dreams and love poems, there is still you, and then you will accompany me to listen to the piano under the moon, and you and I will never leave under the moon.
12, I don't know, can the plum in my heart bypass the world of mortals forever? I don't know, can the moonlight fascinate your feelings tonight? Jiangnan acacia plum, who can sober up, sleeps in my night song. I don't know if moonlight is softer than your pen. All dreams, like plum blossoms, will drink in your poems.
13, my favorite is Mei in Wang Anshi's poems. "There are some plums in the corner, and hanling opens them alone. I know from a distance that it is not snow, because it has a faint fragrance. " By appreciating the noble character of plum blossom, the poet of this poem describes the purity of plum blossom with snow.
14, the winding stream is separated by the night, carrying a wave of tree shadows and a sound of water moon, slowly passing through the Pokan Tianba, shallow depression: passing through the village bridge and passing through the bamboo pavilion in the forest; It also spread through court tunes, poems and songs. Just like a painter's flowing painter, painter, painter, painter, painter, painter, painter, painter, painter, painter, painter.
15. Surfing, spitting out green flowers, cherry blossoms and blooming clouds, a lake rippled gently from the starting point, with dark green mountains and warm Asahi in the background. Walking around the West Lake, every scene has a story. The lake is smokeless and dizzy. Holding a handful of this Linghu in his hand, his fingertips are stained with poems and songs, and thrilling allusions and legends leak through his fingers.
16, searching and searching, deserted and sad. It's the hardest to stop breathing when it's warm and cold. Three cups and two glasses of wine, how can you beat him? The wind is rushing at dawn. Guo Yan is very sad, but this is an old acquaintance. Yellow flowers are piled all over the floor. Who can break it now? Looking out the window, how can you be black alone! Indus is raining in Mao Mao, dripping at dusk. This time, what a sad sentence!
17 Whether it's the flying snow in Yanmen in poetry, the snow in Hanqi, or the beautiful jade snow in reality, it will subtly convey to the soul, warm the emotional world, and reduce a lot of cold depression and depression in the long winter.
18, put the wine on the floor, wrote beautifully, and scribbled thousands of poems on Chengtian Street. Take a book and a sword and rest when you are drunk. If you have time, you can go fishing with the tide and fill the bamboo basket. Brocade sleeves turned, folding fans turned back, and asked how many years my lover was thin. Walking along the flower path, Mulan took a boat and drank Qingyun.