The drizzle was slight, and for several days, the fish operator opened a page of time in this ancient imperial capital, unfolding a place of lovesickness, fragmentary words, and piecing together the old dreams of the past; The sky is cold, the petals are numerous, the mood is more sad, a colorful autumn cool day; A curtain of dreams, a funeral, moistened whose eyes were looking forward to it?

Looking back suddenly, a gorgeous encounter came to an end the moment I turned around. A few seasons of flowers, a few seasons of waiting, who is sad and haggard? There was only a sigh, and the city was desolate. Who will remember, a streamer silhouette, a prosperous flower? Who knows, when you think of it, the end of the world is at hand; A thought is extinguished, and the end of the world is at hand? Happiness is always accompanied by pain, flowers are always accompanied by tears, no one's life will be smooth sailing, and no one's smile is not behind the vicissitudes of life.

Qingqiu is safe, the song is pitiful, and sometimes I can't help but sigh, is Hongchen playing tricks on himself, or is he living up to Hongchen? Faintly hidden in the depths of the smoke and rain, who sang in the middle of the time: "The flying flowers are as light as a dream, the silk rain is as thin as sorrow, the lonely song echoes in the autumn waves and rain, and the graceful figure of the holy mountain is when I am in the place of encounter."

The curtain of the years, the ripples of the strings, do you know that a person pours out thousands of wisps of tenderness, tears in the depths of time, and waits in a daze? However, time rolls on, the joys and sorrows of this life are interpreted, and when everything comes to a standstill, the tribulation dissipates in the long road of rivers and lakes. Life is to walk in the wind and rain, grow up in the ups and downs, and there may be a lot of hardships in life, but it teaches us to be strong; Many trials in life have also sharpened our will, life has made us endure torture, but it will also make us learn to take responsibility.

A window of autumn wind, a clear word, condensed into silence engraved in the broken intestines, make a cup of tea and sit at the table, miss you in the next world, let the spring go to autumn, let the flowers bloom, hide the pain in the depths of the shade, only, put your figure stranded in the memory. In the ancient and elegant scenic area of the Han Garden Stele Forest, collect a piece of freedom, carry a piece of elegance, and show an elegance away from the hustle and bustle; Find the crystal dew on a scoop of petals, wash away the dust, give the sour feeling that has nowhere to be stranded, and find a temporary shelter. I don't want to go about the extravagance of eternity, gains and losses, successes and failures. Fuqin sings a song of cloud water Zen heart, waving his sleeves to sweep away the vulgar thoughts in the fireworks, away from the hustle and bustle of the world; Guarding a pure land, sitting and watching the clouds rise in the wind, the orchid incense splashes ink, and the drips are gentle. In another eternal country, the red dust ferry, dissolve a trace of elegance, enjoy a quiet quiet, and read a lonely life, there will be no regrets and no complaints. The burden of thought is too heavy, take it off and give it to the body indifferently, and if you are too tired to walk, you will stop, give yourself a breathing space, give yourself a room to maneuver, maybe, turn around, and happiness will still wait in the retrospective.

Lonely shadow in the wilderness, alone in the dusk, holding a wisp of flower fragrance through the folds of the years, forgetting the sad past; Look, the autumn shadow is bleak and the lonely goose flies south, when the sun falls on the west mountain, when the path is full of red, listen to the sama dazzle of the fallen leaves; Pick up the wasted time, leave a deep affection, let the time pass away, and write two lines of poetry with shallow words; Tell a piece of the past, frankly say a feeling, get used to the desolation of the night, concentrate on the fingertips, tap out a trace of elegant ink, and sing freely in the heart. The autumn wind is swaying, the osmanthus is fragrant, tonight, the eyes look through the deep alleys of the ancient city, condense the fragments of the sentences, and are in the rhythm of the elegant rhyme of the clear words; In the night after the rain, pick the moonlight silver, persistently howl the sky, the pen is tossing and turning, and dancing a colorful and splendid life. Have a leisurely poetic heart of picking chrysanthemums under the fence, get drunk in the gold season of the sea and sky, be a real strong man, and be a person who runs with tears.

The cold moon floats, a breeze, evokes a faint past, a strong feeling, and a wisp of melancholy; In my spare time, I can't help it, looking across the distance, it is also a heart-to-heart, wandering in the microwave of the sunset, the faint words are the sad wind, the warmth of falling, and complaining about my confused mind. The years have passed, the dream has broken into smoke, Yixuan caresses the shadow of time, and the affection that turns ink into tears pours out his heart. Loneliness is the tear stains left by longing, looking at the end of the world, but unable to get rid of the impermanence of the world, infatuation scattered all over the place, like a withered flower, into the dust, broken thoughts. Wind and rain life, through yourself, write a smile on your face, and leave your sorrow for yesterday; Drive a light boat in the autumn breeze, calmly ferry, taste the red dust in the change of years, and let the years be quiet. When embracing the cool autumn of the year, taste the tranquility and nobility of autumn, and write it into a short line of poetry. Autumn is indifferent, the clouds are light and the wind is light and the autumn water is long, the autumn is introverted and quiet, mature and generous, quiet and elegant, let me be nostalgic, let me forget to return.

Standing in the pavilion, lonely watching, in the lofty years, I am waiting for you, separated from heaven and earth, looking far away, sighing for the past misses, but time is fleeting, the face is easy to age, and the past and light flow between the fingers are still ungraspable, like the moon in the water, only in vain. I am willing to draw the ground as a prison, I am willing to waste the years again and again, bury myself in my memories, and place my life in waiting; Accustomed to looking up at the sky alone, inviting the bright moon to whisper, sighing deeply, I can't leave all this behind, because there is still a trace of concern in my heart. The text ink turns into tears, tears condense into wounds, lovesick rain, rain breaks the intestines, and the intestines become knots; Interlocking, a deduction and a wound, lonely feelings, lingering infinite wounds. Tonight, I look alone by the railing, flick my fingers for a moment, the flowers fall and the water flows, the people go to the building is empty, read the Yaoqin with their hands, the tone is out of tune and difficult to continue, and the past has become a lonely goose, flying alone. Encountered, but now it is gone, the willow-colored fireworks are bright, the small bridge is flowing with purple smoke, but the demons are still waiting, waiting for the flowers to bloom, longing, looking forward to the return of the old man! Surrounded by slightly painful thoughts, waiting in the light and light past, a few traces of vastness, a few times mourning.

Hongchen Ferry, the rain hits the autumn lotus, I wander in Qishengjiao, watch at the end of the Bianhe River system, or wait for a returnee who can join hands in the smoke and dust at dusk, or remember an eternal memory; In an autumn rain and a cold night, the memories rustle, and his daily feelings are all the red dust of the past; In the bell of the drum tower, the memory is engraved, and the old age is sad, who can pick up the old time? In the reincarnation of flowers blooming and falling, will you appear in my eyes; Parting, in the red dust, you are the scenery that I can't lock; In the depths of time in the distance, I buried a thing about waiting, the flowers have not fallen, the autumn has been cool, and there has not been a period of moon before the flowers, the wind has not stopped, the rain is dripping, and a few autumn words are more heartfelt. Glad to be in a quiet time, let half of the life feelings, wandering in the wind and rain, the passing years, who will be whose past? The rain has been falling, and the thoughts are messy, and in the shallow pond of life, I throw myself into infinite sighs, writing about the vicissitudes of the ancient city of Kaifeng.

The drizzle was rippling, and for several days, I opened a page of time in this ancient Song capital, unfolding a place of lovesickness, fragmentary words, and piecing together the old dreams of the past; The sky is cold, the petals are numerous, the mood is more sad, a colorful autumn cool day; A curtain of dreams, a funeral, moistened whose eyes were looking forward to it? Looking back suddenly, a gorgeous encounter came to an end the moment I turned around. A few seasons of flowers, a few seasons of waiting, who is sad and haggard? There was only a sigh, and the city was desolate. Who will remember, a streamer silhouette, a prosperous flower? Who knows, when you think of it, the end of the world is at hand; A thought is extinguished, and the end of the world is at hand? Happiness is always accompanied by pain, flowers are always accompanied by tears, no one's life will be smooth sailing, and no one's smile is not behind the vicissitudes of life.

Qingqiu is safe, the song is pitiful, and sometimes I can't help but sigh, is Hongchen playing tricks on himself, or is he living up to Hongchen? Faintly hidden in the depths of the smoke and rain, who sang in the middle of the time: "The flying flowers are as light as a dream, the silk rain is as thin as sorrow, the lonely song echoes in the autumn waves and rain, and the graceful figure of the holy mountain is when I am in the place of encounter." The curtain of the years, the ripples of the strings, do you know that a person pours out thousands of wisps of tenderness, tears in the depths of time, and waits in a daze? However, time rolls on, the joys and sorrows of this life are interpreted, and when everything comes to a standstill, the tribulation dissipates in the long road of rivers and lakes. Life is to walk in the wind and rain, grow up in the ups and downs, and there may be a lot of hardships in life, but it teaches us to be strong; Many trials in life have also sharpened our will, life has made us endure torture, but it will also make us learn to take responsibility.

A window of autumn wind, a clear word, condensed into silence engraved in the broken intestines, make a cup of tea and sit at the table, miss you in the next world, let the spring go to autumn, let the flowers bloom, hide the pain in the depths of the shade, only, put your figure stranded in the memory. In the ancient and elegant scenic area of the Han Garden Stele Forest, collect a piece of freedom, carry a piece of elegance, and show an elegance away from the hustle and bustle; Find the crystal dew on a scoop of petals, wash away the dust, give the sour feeling that has nowhere to be stranded, and find a temporary shelter. I don't want to go about the extravagance of eternity, gains and losses, successes and failures. Fuqin sings a song of cloud water Zen heart, waving his sleeves to sweep away the vulgar thoughts in the fireworks, away from the hustle and bustle of the world; Guarding a pure land, sitting and watching the clouds rise in the wind, the orchid incense splashes ink, and the drips are gentle. In another eternal country, the red dust ferry, dissolve a trace of elegance, enjoy a quiet quiet, and read a lonely life, there will be no regrets and no complaints. The burden of thought is too heavy, take it off and give it to the body indifferently, and if you are too tired to walk, you will stop, give yourself a breathing space, give yourself a room to maneuver, maybe, turn around, and happiness will still wait in the retrospective.

Lonely shadow in the wilderness, alone in the dusk, holding a wisp of flower fragrance through the folds of the years, forgetting the sad past; Look, the autumn shadow is bleak and the lonely goose flies south, when the sun falls on the west mountain, when the path is full of red, listen to the sama dazzle of the fallen leaves; Pick up the wasted time, leave a deep affection, and let the time pass away