For example:
Haruka
Yuanxi
On the Lantern Festival, thousands of lights and trees, thousands of fireworks danced with the bright light and shadow of the night sky, and stars like rain fell one after another. The first spring breeze swayed like this, blowing up the quiet dream of the lake and combing the oblique willows in the light smoke. I vaguely remember the past when I was a child, the snowy night in the mountain village, and the childlike interest in competing for fireworks, bit by bit, as if it were only yesterday. When I woke up, it was already a tall building in the city, and the back was far away. The poet's glass dripped with inspiration from the past, and once again had a long and affectionate talk with the elegant soul.
BMW cars, who are alone looking for the scenery in the far west, lost thousands of searches in the beautiful snuff Huo Ying, just an unintentional turn back, and they found traces of spring. The looming moon on the roof has become a riddle that can't be read through the ages. The moon is the profit and loss of the cloud, which covers the eyes of the moon watcher. Liu Xia's canoe, through the long rainy season, will recall the past over and over again. Through the lights all night and the bright moon in the water, I secretly promised the news of spring.
Lanterns hang far away, dancing gently in the wind, coming from distant streets and lanes, echoing the jubilation of human festivals. Knowing the future of spring, there is Qiao Mei Xiuzhu's inquiry and the elegance of snow knocking on the window. Knowing the future of spring, there is a dream that pears will replace Joan's beauty and lilacs will replace snow. Suddenly, let the elegant blue eyes of ancestors look back at the dim light again. Laughing and laughing, singing heartily with Shiyu's ci style, the rhythm of spring.
Spring snow
The pure and pure spirit, riding the feathers flying in spring, floats through the shadow of clouds, crosses the picture scroll of crows in the cold forest and blends into melodious poetry. I am a woman looking at the snow on the threshold, thinking of lilacs in my heart and frowning slightly. Because of Ying Ge Yu Yan's frolicking, I turned anger into joy.
Snowflakes made a ladder with dreams. I took her skirt and floated lightly in the clouds. I saw willows sprouting, plums in full bloom, streams gurgling and swallows busy going home. Who lingers on the edge of dreams and awakenings and refuses to turn around for a long time? Who broke the world of mortals, but witnessed the hoary head to the castle peak? The snowflake with smart attitude, coupled with a tube of sheep hair, exudes a semi-ancient elegance.
Snow-white elves searched back and forth in the winding cloister, gently opening the story of the carved window left unlocked. She can awaken the memory of the mountain breeze, she can't stop breathing, she remembers every clear meeting and parting. Snowflakes, like dust, dust off the world, indicating the cycle of life.
The bright moon is whispering in the branches, and the spring breeze lives in the flowing clouds. A few twittering birds stepped on the white deserted path, leaving shallow traces. How many flowers are scattered, how many cigarettes are blown, who is injured by snowflakes, who has a hundred knots of tenderness, this moonlight, this plum fragrance, gently washing the yellow pages of the past years.
The earth held the cold tightly, and I began to miss the thin ridge of a snowflake, adjust my mood alone, and recall it repeatedly in a clean corner. I have forgotten, I have been blurred. When spring gradually becomes clear, I am still dissolved in her soft heart.
I hope I can help you. Thank you. I hope it will be adopted.