The stone moon bridge, the awning in the water alley, and the misty rain wash the new green tea. The wind blows the willows on the embankment, ducks play in the pampas grass, and people in the south of the Yangtze River. The bayberry is dark purple, the fragrance of old wine is lingering, and the words are mulberry and hemp.
The lake and water are boundless. There are green radish skirts and pink lotus flowers. The sound of the flute is high and far away, the beautiful girl plays the pipa, and the frogs sing in the rain in the green pond. Bamboo shadows float under the moon. Drunk and lying in the west building, looking at the veil. Tomorrow promises to be a good scenery, go back and ride the clouds.
I sat quietly in the pavilion under the moonlight, with the May wind blowing on my cheeks. There is a faint fragrance of flowers floating in the courtyard, and the white four-cornered petals and yellow stamens nod in the wind. The colorful roses compete for beauty. People enjoying the cool air were walking around, and several pet dogs walked lazily past me, wagging their tails, following the direction in which their owners were leaving. I don't know why, I suddenly felt melancholy. The half-curved moon was glowing dimly, and the story over there came to my mind again.
I always think of Jiangnan unconsciously, it was the most beautiful time of my youth. I like the coconut breeze and the waves hitting the white sand beach. The string of distant footprints are deep and shallow. I looked at the small island in the distance and thought about the clear spring on the island, which made my heart ache. I like the fragrance of gardenia. The fragrance of the garden intoxicates my chest. I always hide in a corner, drinking old wine and sipping spring tea. That kind of comfort, along with the whirling bamboo shadows, enters my pastoral dreamland.
I always think of your flowing hair on drizzling nights. You are my most beautiful beauty, and you are my most intimate lover. But the cold reality has torn apart our youth. of beauty. Whenever the sun sets in the west and the moon rises above the willow branches, I wander aimlessly alone, watching lovers holding arms and loving each other, and the faint sadness of separation creeps into my heart unconsciously. How I want to stand on a high hill and shout into the wind! How I want to abandon the prosperity and fly to your eyes. But the cold reality tells me that hard work and a strong economy are the cornerstones of love. My love is not romantic, my love is half-curved, my love is like the rain thread in the wind, my love is in the hazy night, holding hands and looking into each other's tearful eyes...
I always tap the keyboard gently in the dead of night, and those bloody sentences are my thoughts about you. How I want to write the poetic picture of Jiangnan into your face. How I want to keep your light and elegant dress in my heart forever. How I want to write poems with splashes of ink and keep your freshness and beauty on my letter paper forever. I kept my promise silently, looking at the mountains and rivers of the North in the mesmerized Jiangnan at night, and said to the floating clouds, my love will follow the wind, and my endless love will be with you forever.
I always look at the world with drunken eyes. The ugly faces and the loneliness under the neon lights make me so upset in the dark night. I don't like hypocritical language. In the banquet where cups are exchanged, I am always drunk and everyone is drunk, forgetting the bitter cold of the world outside the wealthy family. I always say that I am a piece of mud that cannot stick to the wall. I touch the strings of the piano with my hands, play the song "Meeting a bosom friend in the mountains and flowing water", and say some nonsensical Buddhist sayings. In this game where EQ is higher than IQ, I always recite the sentence about sleeping in a restaurant on Chang'an Street and being unable to board the ship when the emperor calls. But at this time, I want to see you most in my heart. I want to hold you in my arms and tell you my heart. How I want to lie next to you and feel your delicate hands touching my cheek. I am strong on the outside but weak on the inside, like a child who has not grown up, nestled in your arms. Your unique tenderness and maternal love melted away my drunken gaffe...
I don’t know when, you and your daughter came to me. Looking at me looking up at the moon stupidly, you silently Hold my arm and walk gently with me in front of the flowers and under the moon...
People are not old, but they speak slowly under the moon. When I put it on my beloved wife's forehead, I saw that her eyebrows were not as hairy as before. The years are written in the corners of the eyes.
After meeting each other, Changting dreamed about separation. Stop thinking about your hometown and old friends, and let the new wind bring you a new look. Jiangnan language ends in the world.