Butterfly - "Liang Zhu" after reading

Encounter: Dark incense floats

Hands up, strings move.

In March, when the grass grew and the warbler flew, and the apricot blossoms and smoke rained, she took off the beaded jade pendant and Qirasu skirt, and put on the breeze sleeves and Confucian scarf. Away from the high wall and deep courtyard, the smoke lock is light. Ying Ying smiled, thousands of miles, just to appear in front of your eyes, warm tears that have not been seen for a long time.

Three years of classmates reading, countless breezes and bright moons, flowers before the moon. He and you play with the piano to paint and play landscapes. The love that has long been engraved on the Sansheng Stone seems to have never been separated, and the clear water lying flat between the pillows reflects your innocent heart and her delicate face.

Before burning incense, she had already betrayed you and made a vow in this life: "Shanbo, I don't want to be your sworn brother." I want to be your wife for the rest of your life!"

This ancient love pierces the sky, passes through the years, and passes through time and space. Like a peerless woman, Ling Bo walked slightly and floated away.

There's nothing quite like the beauty of this stumbling encounter. Accustomed to the hideous face in this reinforced concrete world, numb to the hypocrisy of this mask of hypocrisy, indifferent to the crime of cannibalism in the face of the public, people get along with money very awkwardly. Everything in this concrete, materialistic forest seems so virtual and contrived in comparison!

Never give up

The wind howls, the rain cries.

The white horse passes through the gap, and spring goes to autumn. You look out from the railing, and you wear the autumn water, and you have never seen him. What awaits you is only the marriage set by your parents.

You are powerless to resist marriage, just as he is powerless to elope with you. Poverty stripped away his dignity and his countenance. You are guarding the tower, and you can see the paper-wrapped stones flying outside the wall, shooting down the concern and lovesick promise in your heart.

The flowers bloom in the dream, the flowers fall in the dream, and only the snow and frost are left. You and I are not gods, as soon as you splash it, the water will spill out, and when you fall, your dreams will be shattered, and as soon as you leave, her soul will be scattered.

We who don't know how to express love still think that love is like the fickleness of the storm. Do you want to verify the oath of this bright moon pavilion? Summer rain and snow, the mountains are edgeless, the heaven and the earth are together, but you dare to be with the king. This undying love is better than your life and mine, and it is better than the glory and wealth of smoke clouds.

A heavy thunder, with the darkness of Zhufu and feudal etiquette, forcibly tore off a sweet dream, and bruised the resentment and scattered all over the body. Born, these two rancid mountains ruthlessly crushed the acacia. In that cannibalistic society, the existence of anything with a sense of pure beauty is a serious obstacle to its survival, and tragedy is born.

The "Liang Zhu" style of love has not appeared in refrigerated plastic wrap for sale, not that there is no true love in our time, but that we have soaked love in desire, spoiled and expired.

Parting, three lives shallow

Heartbreak, strings break.

The wait is so long, your lovesickness bends into an emaciated waning moon, and the cold shines on the haggard future, in this lonely and cold building. You insert your future and lovesickness into the incense burner of prayer, and exchange your life for half a lifetime of keeping.

The rain hates the clouds, and the lovesick winter clothes. What you are looking forward to is the sad news that he has died in a depressed state. The ten-mile long pavilion is long, and you can't change his distant figure by waiting blankly.

You have tears but no sorrow, and the eternal love is like a numb mountain........

You put on a red veil, crush your tears, and marry to the riches in the eyes of the world.

So, let the tears gurgle into a spring, roll into a river, and surging into a sea.........

The walls of China's 5,000-year-old splendid culture will not be shaken by a few insignificant cries or tragedies. There is no love, no family affection, no lovesickness, as if everything in the world has abandoned Zhu Yingtai and locked her in a cage on the cliff. We will also have a similar situation, when we are alone and helpless, fear and submission will climb into our hearts, but we can still move forward without applause, we can still sing religiously without applause, like you, bravely say to the world: "No!"

Wounded City, Heaven and Earth

Frown, don't worry.

It rained coldly, for three days and three nights. Butterflies with wet wings hover sadly in the fragrance of decadence.

The gorgeous colorful glow can't hide your thin body, the dazzling pearls can't hide your gray face, and the noisy gongs, drums and fireworks can't save your determination to return. You are fragile, and you can't escape this sad and sad melancholy. The bleak green mound, isolated on the bleak roadside, tore out a long thought. Take off the phoenix crown, take off the wedding dress, you are dressed in white, and you run to the cold tomb, tears dripping, condensing into your broken love intestines, a word of lovesickness, has exhausted the energy of your life.......

The blood in my heart pours out the tenderness of my life. You waved your sleeves and turned around, and the blood was like red lips, kissing gently on your body, dragging the green smoke, and dispersed......

The long-lasting promises, the companionship of thousands of lifetimes, and the hollow vows and alliances have all turned into clouds and smoke and dispersed in the air. The sky washed with tears will be brighter. You will see him coming, with a blue bird leading the way, a magpie as a companion, and a pair of butterflies dancing lightly among the bright moon and flowers.

That day, I closed my eyes in the incense mist of the prayer hall, and suddenly heard your lovesick mantra.

That month I shook all the prayer cylinders, not for excess, but to touch your fingertips.

That year, I kowtowed on the mountain road, not to see you, but to stick to your chest.

In that life, I turned mountains and rivers to the world, and I didn't cultivate the next life, just to meet you on the way.

We who don't know how to express love still think that martyrdom is just an old rumor. The heart is broken, only the aftermath lingers, people wake up, dreams also wake up, and when they wake up, they are beautiful for a thousand years. This poignant love is still waiting in the memory of China, weaving an eternal lingering for us who are unbearable, and leaving the most moving page in the history of love......

Life is different, death is the same hole/Turning into a pair of fluttering butterflies/Soul is dependent on each other/Soul is together/Clothes Cave/Fragrant rain in the world-[Butterfly]