The clouds and smoke are like a dream, and the flowers are faintly inked

Fanghua is like flowing water, and the dream is almost gone. Wait quietly and silently, let the days pass in silence, listen to the rhythm of the rain in a dream, and turn a wisp of sadness into the shallow coolness of the wind. The heart foreshadows the affectionate breath of spring, fluttering and going away in the staggered fall of the water and the wind...

The bright scenery of spring, the soft scenery is beautiful. The willow curtain hangs down the silk, the blue water Qionghua turns into a thousand words and integrates into every beating note of the pen, the slanting sun is slightly warm, the clouds are outside the clouds, the dark covers the Shaohua, a wisp of Xiaoxiang clouds in the depths of the dream, picking up a string of past events, and forming a poem full of conjecture...

The blue sky is warm, the branches and leaves, the clouds are fluttering, the light smoke and dust are wrapped in the breath of the wind on the willow bank wantonly, and the natural lake is soaked in a pale yellow and beautiful sunset.

I have no intention of appreciating this ethereal twilight leisurely, for a long time I have been cold-hearted and cold-hearted, I have no intention of interacting with others, and I do not desire to be elegant and refined, I hope that I am a person whose heart is like water, not happy with things, not sad with myself. And the so-called forgetting joys and sorrows is just spurring oneself again and again those long-cherished wishes that are entangled in dreams and dreams...

After years of past, it is like a white horse passing through the gap, when the sky is wide and the clouds are light, it turns into light smoke and is nowhere to be found! Lonely listening to the sound of the faint piano, after the twilight years, who and I can mourn silently in the passing of smoke and clouds? The rhythm of Yunshui Zen heart has long been restrained by the mixed heart, and the feelings of the heart and Lin Qi have also been gently stranded in the bottom of the heart in the years of wind and rain.

The smoke and clouds of the floating world are all joys and sorrows, like dreams and illusions, smoke and rain like melancholy wind and wine, and several gatherings and scattering are old and old. Drifting in the years, embracing the spring and getting drunk, who should wake up to the ethereal feelings hidden in the clouds and water? The wind sings the rain and sings the farewell endowment, and the ink is full of questions. The wine period is coming, regardless of the evening day, following the afterglow of Yaoqin, studying ink and leaving fragrance, drunk with spring flowers.

The idle wind blows away the refreshing heart, stepping through the Fangfei all the way, and letting the bright eyes wander outside the floating mountain! The spring is bright, the mountains and rivers are beautiful, the rainy Jiangnan is like an ink, the lake is melting, and the sunset is reflected. The branches of March, the peach and willow green, the tenderness... Acacia buckles the dark knot, touching the scene and tears.

Shaohua is light, a period of wind and moon, locked heart, it is impossible to have no story, and finally because one person left, only a poignant memory was left... The wind ripples, looking at the red eyes, quietly guarding the loneliness, melancholy in the heart of a moment of colic, suddenly a sense of sadness that the face of the person does not know where to go, at this time you will still have a sense of "spring breeze does not feel cold"? ... Past years, this spring...

The twilight is in the sky, the pen and ink are gone, the day is depressed, leaving behind, and entering a glass of wine, don't ask about hatred and sorrow... A pot of turbid wine is full of joy, don't dream cold tonight; Drunk, just chasing the dream, the yellowed night, dedicated to the loneliest moon...

The night is divided into half a moon, and it hurts the soul. In the middle of the night after three years, the bright moon illuminates the world, and you can see a prosperous scene alone! Tears accompany the moon, the night follows the wind, pouring down!

In the middle of the night, the wind and rain cover it, and the bridge crosses the depths of the water, Jun; Living in the shadows, blurring the shadows, weird the scenery, driving away the sadness, attacking at night, drunk to see the glimmer of the lonely moon, sighing with both hands in the southwest, thinking lightly, one life away from sorrow, three generations of eyebrows. Looking forward to her return, standing alone in the middle of the night, looking at the southwest, there is a wisp of concern, holding hope and infatuation: purple clothes and green shirts, hugging each other and tears raining, obsessively looking at the red face, never to return!

The night is cool and windy, sad, breaking the cocoon into a butterfly, spreading its wings around him, burying three years of thoughts, sorrow between the eyebrows, lonely willows, the singing of the nightingale, skimming the water of Weilan Lake, describing the sorrow, the year of parting, the moon before the flower, the number of volleys of thoughts, and the reincarnation of a leaf. The nightingale licked the wounds gloomily, and fell in love alone. A simple song, describing a lifetime of sorrow, condensing a thousand words, it is difficult to say goodbye. The moon is in the sky, and the royal step is halfway through the night, and the eyebrows cover the moon sorrow.

Four minutes into the night, quiet and drunk butterfly pool, fold the ink spread, close to the end of the world, but can not find her, the night is colder, the thoughts are gone, weathered, empty looking back, lonely prosperity, memories around people, lingering. The reflection of the courtyard of the hidden road is in the flowing water, enjoying a round of bright moon, sighing through the ages, a place of lovesickness and two sorrows, falling flowers drifting into the butterfly pond, cutting and missing, countless sorrows, pouring down! The night of parting is quiet and cold, greeting alone, waiting for the taste to be sour and bitter, and there is no complaint.

First acquaintance, that year, drizzle season, stepping on a place of spring mud, three miles outside the township, you, sitting alone in the flower pavilion, index finger around the red line, coated with rouge aroma, eyebrows and wisps of sadness, in the hand, the mandarin duck picture is broken, dripping tears, to the face and fall, you, sad in the heart, record the book of poetry, obsessive thoughts, cover a line of silence, hide a poignant volume, open the book in the coming year, and add sadness!

The winter wind resists the frost, and the night is only the purple flower stream. That is, the song fell short, and the spring rain hit the green shirt. Fantasy, for you to pull the bun, purple hair, letter fingers, it, the remaining fragrance, for the sleeve to add thought. Remember, drunk under the moon before the flower, not as good as your shallow eyes, green rain and fine tears, a stroke, go to winter, a painting, return to spring!

At half a minute and five o'clock in the night, the moonset warbler has gone away, Xiao Xiao is sad and sad, who is in the middle of the night? Gloomy soul, thoughts flying, a hundred turns and a thousand times, who is in the middle of the night? Standing alone, counting the reverie of several lifetimes, there is no lack of infatuation in the world, and the rest is guarded in the middle of the night! Let's stop time, in the middle of the night, I am sad!

In June, in the middle of summer, the sun is blazing. Youth is over, everything is over, and the price of growth is the passing of years.

Walking on the edge of time, quietly listening to the feeling of the wind blowing, in the distance, there was an inexplicable sound. Looking up at the sky, it seems that I have come here after a thousand years. The flow of red dust, the singing of youth, the stories we haven't had time to tell, the strength that we haven't talked about yet. And just like that, they will leave forever. Child, we can only say goodbye to that proper noun forever, child, we have become children who will grow up. I opened the window and found those familiar feelings, always like to wake up on rainy mornings, always like to sleep on a night when the moon is very bright.

A name about youth. It is always full of many new things, which makes people imagine and think, and always reminds me of the stories about life, everyone, and the faces that are often seen. Leaving step by step, leaving step by step, leaving the place where no one found themselves, looking at those strange landscapes, walking those strange roads. The vows of youth are like lies, and it seems that we force ourselves to do many, many things, but they are all unexpected by us, and we lose our way and cannot find our true selves.

In a lifetime, I can't talk about how many pursuits, and I can't tell how many stories there are. The flowers on the playground that year, have not yet opened, we have all left there, we have always thought that as long as we believe in love, we can love, the journey of youth, is the bright sunshine, at least we have gone through those times, summer, can always make people fantasize about a lot of the past, used to the air in that weather, but also like the memories of midsummer. The past has been spreading on my body and I can't shake it away. We also want to escape, we also want to leave, we look forward to the passing of the days, looking forward to the end of the year, the summer is like youth, giving people warmth, giving people hope.

When we are young, is it because we are too young to understand anything, we can not understand anything? We just flowed along the way, along the crowded places, looking and looking up endlessly, and we were all used to those movements. Always standing on the balcony, quietly looking at the sky, thinking about a person's life, a person's future, in a word, you can live for a lifetime, a song, you can sing for a lifetime, in a blink of an eye, there is not much youth left, all the years, all the light and shadow, disappear in front of our eyes in an instant.

The love in youth can be loved without force, I don't know how far the so-called eternity is, I don't understand, don't let go if you hold hands. Love in youth, just because we don't understand anything, don't have to think about anything, don't have to think about it, ignorant age, slowly we all bid farewell to simplicity, ushered in maturity, we no longer believe in those myths, no longer fantasize about the top of the mountain, whether there are immortals living on the mountain. We have all dreamed of the stars in the sky, the possession of the vicissitudes of the sea, and the lost wind, blowing the heart of this young man.

The friendship in youth, we know that only cherishing will we have, on this road, not just ourselves. We are faced with the passers-by who walk by, looking at the smiling old people and children, lonely and distant waiting, forgetting when, some people. Crying for happiness, forgetting when, sending away friends around you, one day, will you still remember the stories that belong to us, the songs that belong to us. The days of waiting are not just a person's waiting, in the process of waiting, not only oneself, life is singing, our life is rotating repeatedly, year after year, time has taken away all the youth and scenery.

When I woke up one day, I found that the people around me had already gone, leaving me alone, looking at the various states of life, feeling the changes of the sunset and stars, and looking at the waves in the sea. At that time, maybe we are no longer young, we left the origin of our own, walking our only road, the scenery along the way, not beautiful, just want to look up, we can see the sunset. On this earth, we all wish that many things would not change, and we all hope that reality does not conflict with our own ideas, but what we see is that plans can never catch up with changes. Turn around and leave, maybe for a lifetime.

At that time, we were not afraid of anything,

Bright, happy smile,

We're all good kids, whimsical good kids,

We hold happiness in our hands, close our eyes, listen to the voice of the heart, the beating melody, that is happiness singing, we don't need too many reasons to ask why? We don't need too many excuses to avoid too many problems. Youth is gone, light and shadow are gone, years are buried, and the story is too late to tell, so forget it!

Happiness, so far away but also very close, youth, just a bright landscape, all the young and frivolous will grow old, all the personality smiles, will be buried, there is no reason. Carry your luggage, walk on the road, be a happy traveler, the young are gone, and the old are the years.