As the earth recovers and everything shines, I am tempted by the coldness of the winter solstice. In the March season, I spent my time alone watching a lonely flower flying and watching the landscapes of the Jiangnan silent. It was a rainy day and it locked the city. The time was also moist. The heart, a touch of emotion, leaving a persistent and innocent. This spring traveler, once again embarked on graceful steps, reminding me of a trace of darkness in the dream. –Inscription
Years of fireworks flow like nightmares. At the moment, on the letterhead of the years, it was painted green and flowing. The sky is a thin layer of dark clouds. It is a rainy, wet and wet one that looks like some long-standing past. The carved windows are green, and the words under the tiles are falling one by one. The courtyard in front of the door is deep, and the branches of the trees are branches. The branches of the cemetery are buds and sprouts. Spring came in this way, eyes full of green, that spring, carrying the flowers, was rushed by a sentimental bird, named one, can it read the meaning of spring?
On the street, the willows were green and filigree. The spring breeze combed these green eyelashes, adorned with a crystal of tears, and dampened the verses on my paper. The soul is hidden in the depths of March. Seeing the mountains and the mountains, the water is clear and beautiful. It is like a beautiful landscape that is lightly inked. The snow and ice melted and the soil thaws. I heard the heartbeat of spring. It was as if the cold winter and the snowy winter drifted overnight. The water was ice-breaking, ambiguous and transparent; the cheerful music broke the silence of the mountains and broke the quiet dream of the years.
Always like the days of sunny farming and rain reading, with a simple heart, with indifferent ink, how many black and white sun and moon, quietly written for the fleeting year. The breath of spring rhyme is a fragrant fragrance, fresh grass, but also a beautiful natural, poetic. In the four seasons of reincarnation, I found a starting point here again. I wrote shallowly and I would save my heart for a winter and drunk it into a paper tenderness.
A rainy day was used to dampen the background of the spring; a city, a hint of emotion, spread out.
In the spring, how bright the word, from ancient to modern times, was dotted with countless Tang poetry and poetry. Its charming, aura, more like a picture of the rhyme flowing, framed with many lively stories. I grew up in spring, loved it, and loved the prosperous Jiangnan Water Town, the white wall and the clear water. I was always so calm and quiet. The grass grows and fly, the lane willow piles, the familiar and long rain lane, with a damp paper umbrella, distributes a fragrance, and it turns out to be a lilac girl in a long-cherished dream.
Recalling the old days, I was like a wandering leaf. I walked from spring to autumn, concentrating the wind and rain of the four seasons on the surface, wandering all the way, swaying, and woven each thought into a white dream. Each one is alone and packed into heavy bags for tomorrow. Spring dyed the forest, look back on the past that met the warmth, bit by bit, has long been woven into memory. There are too many intricate countenances in the red dust, let us be thankful for this dull time, and give us an extraordinary life, a beautiful encounter.
Some people say that life is like a blooming flower, a loneliness of loneliness, and finally, it is lonely and belongs to dust. This moment of time flashed past and played with joy and sorrow, gathered and dispersed. How many are too late to wait for the story, people go to the void; how much is the moon and mirror, passing smoke. In the dream years, Huaihua Yi Lao, we all just hurry to pass the guests, in this aspect of ambiguity, wind and rain, thousands of busy figures, like a group of unruly horses, rush east, but also gently in the middle of the night Take a break.
After a rainy day and a misty skies, a city and a spring traveler set foot on graceful steps and stayed in the dream–deep print.
The dusty road is long, and the wandering ships always have a returning heart. Many want to find a side of the situation, to retain the glory of years. Sitting on the edge of the stream, listening to the shepherd boy blowing a lyre, watching Xiao He's sharp point, the fisherman busy put spring figure. Play with the mountain wind, will be the world's grudges, leisurely. In the heart, we will cultivate the hedge chrysanthemum and look at the fate of the edge.
The water is green, the mountains are green, and the spring is very pro. After a curtain of misty rain, the product was sent to the heart with a few tea leaves, and the delicate fragrance rushed to the dust. In the light of time, read a book and pick up a warmth; or watch an old opera and savor the demise of the end of the song. Spring dreams without traces, easy to meet. Appreciate the flowers for those who wish to be happy. The month is the Zen of hearts and minds. When faced with the turmoil of the world, it is a blatant smile. Even if you live in the light of red wine, such as Yunshan ink and wash, behold the light and enjoy yourself.
In the misty rain, a city, who was enjoying the joy of life in the light meal? Who pays attention to the poetic evening?
Things shift to the stars, winter is coming to spring. This attack of rain and rain, but also a season of sorrow washing, floating filter. The distant mountain, spit out a few embarrassing smoke rings. The tired homecoming posture is the most vivid annotation of the evening. The birds were silent and picked up a line of spring poetry and flew to the warm nest.
Yunxia drunk dream, Xiaowu smoke. Maybe it will dawn tomorrow, the rain will stop and the sun will be more delicious.
– Wen / Zengmaer