How far is the end of the world?

Far more than missing you. （）

How wide is the cape?

No wider than your arms and shoulders.

A thousand years is too illusory,

I'm afraid I'll break my promise.

A life is too short,

I'm afraid you'll turn around and disappear.

Allow me to pass a few years,

Ride with you.

The figure of the man enters the dusk,

Evening mountain sunset.

《1》

You said that Shuangyan plays with flowers, Jinping Painting Hall, and later the spring sky and rain are broken, and the plain clothes are sparse and the windows are sparse.

You say that Hualien is dark and fragrant, folding fans and clothes, and later the river is full of fireflies, and the moonlight is sprinkled with frost.

You said that Qianmo Gui bloomed and sneaked into the city, and then the residual red Ding was zero, and his hands were slightly cold.

You say that the snow sprinkles the cold river, and then the bell rings in the distant mountains, and the shallow tears are given.

You said that the mountains and rivers are flowing and the pianos are interdependent, and then the seven strings are cut off, and the figures are blank.

You say that the chessboard is relatively watchful, and then the tea is cold, and black and white are impermanent.

You said that you were full of burdens and engraved hearts, and then you entered her compartment and wrote Shaoguang.

You said that the picture scroll is full of rivers and mountains, and you are alone, and then Lan Zhou is light-haired, and he misses Weiyang.

2

A drizzle of the academy wet the dust,

A yellowed folding fan knocked on the passing year.

A stroke of amorous ink incense drunk karma,

A dream of yellow sorghum hurt his face.

A hundred years in the world, but in the blink of a finger.

In the still water years, there are a few joys and sorrows in marriage.

Fanghua is forever silent, and the sheng songs are scattered and lonely.

Acacia into the sea, who is the shore of the red dust.

Remember that time, when you were wearing new makeup, you were embarrassed.

Remember that time, you smiled lightly and danced with your sleeves.

What can I do, the shock is gone.

What can I do, the nightmare is impermanent and the years are added.

Life is like a play, a few sighs and sighs?

Drama is like life, joys and sorrows are instantaneous.

Looking forward to the first meeting, the hearts are on each side, and the old dreams are revisited far away.

《Three》

The cinnabar of your eyebrows has overturned the prosperous Chang'an, and when I look back, the history of the previous dynasty was written. Once accompanied by a hand, just because you turned around, the end of the world was scattered. The figure of the colorful butterfly dancing in the breeze gradually diffused in the sound of the warm jade smoke. Leave me Hua withered, hidden in this red dust picture. It's just that in this burned mottled years, he never refused to stop the ink, and finally turned his thoughts into petals on the other side, and fell on the years like water.

《Four》

Last night, it rained at the beginning of Chang'an, and the night was red. Go to the head of the boat alone, listen to the pastoral flute and Tianye Village, and look at the smoke and waves tens of thousands of times. I still remember the beginning, the catkins circled half the city, and fireworks flew all over the sky. You hit me with a folding fan, and your eyebrows poured into my heart. The quiet and quiet meeting, the covenant under the moon before the flower, and the oath to be carried together for a hundred years. Poor side affairs, you turned around and went from Rong, the bookish man of the prosperous years. Leave me looking forward to returning to the sail of the ferry, such as Jin Shaohua barren and added. The years are fluttering, and the bronze mirror sacrifice is red in the south of the Yangtze River for a few degrees. I know that the land you are looking forward to is not the watery year I want.

5

As I ask,

Missing is more bitter than having a crush.

As you say,

Waiting is happier than being disappointed.

Blame you for being as picturesque as ever,

It's hard to give up and lose when you complain about me,

Only then did love fall into a dilemma.

But time is gone,

What to make up for it?

Maybe I once loved too much,

Now I hate it to the bone.

《Six》

Xiucai: Alone, five scripture cars. Since you are like a catastrophe in my life, I stopped writing and ink, and I fell into the dust by mistake.

Scholar: Graceful, lonely and self-appreciative. Since you are like a robbery in my life, I have burned books and broken inkstones, and I have become famous.

Shangjia: Rich and rival the country, and his waist is full of money. Since you are like a catastrophe in my life, I scatter all the gold brocade and enlighten Zen.

Doctor: Hanging the pot helps the world, saving the dead and helping the wounded. Since you are like a catastrophe blooming in my life, I have tasted a hundred herbs alone, and my life is like going to soup.

Monarch: Thousands of miles of dust, picturesque rivers and mountains. Since you are like a catastrophe in my life, I flick my sleeves, and the wolf smoke burns all over the place.

General: Horse leather shroud, famous in a hundred battles. Since you are like a robbery in my life, I have unloaded my armor and returned to the field, and there is no edge in the sheath.

Painter: Red dust painting scroll, re-adding ink. Since you are like a catastrophe in my life, I go to the cloud mountain alone, hidden in the world.

Fisherman: The water bends, and the boat travels on the mo. Since you are like a catastrophe blooming in my life, I add to the fishing fire, and the cold river is warm.

Champion: One word is a thousand gold, nominated for the emperor's list. Since you are like a catastrophe in my life, my writing is beautiful, and there is no good biography.

Swordsman: Dressed in white and black-haired, with blades falling from blade to blade. Since you are like a robbery in my life, I boil my sword with turbid wine, and my fame is like smoke.

"Seven"

Parting is the end of the bowel,

I miss it when we meet.

I love you

The heart is so soft.

Speechless is better than sweet,

Plain is better than romance.

I've got you,

to live up to the full moon.

"Eight"

You sit under the Bodhi tree with a smile and look at the vast night sky and row down lonely. How many times has I walked through the five aggregates, but the sorrow cannot survive the years. You say that love is inherent, and mundane things are impermanent and impermanent. If you are deeply involved, this life will be miserable. Why is it that my face has changed in life, but I can't let go of your old appearance? It's another year of colorful flowers, smoke and rain, and the bells of the wild temple are ringing in the distance, and the shepherd's flute is blowing melodiously. I hugged the pipa back, played the worries and worries, and threw away the years, and clung to the quicksand and missed the pampa leaves. If you forget the bowl of Meng Po soup in front of the stage and drink it, and then rub it with you when you come, will you turn a blind eye or tears will rain down?

《Ten》

Chun: You came from the riverside where the willows are like smoke, and the appearance of celadon like water ripples my mirror-like years. I lightly buttoned the paper fan and watched you walk into the purple and red Mo Shangyu Alley, until the flowers fell and the shoulders began to wake up. Xia: The light rain is added, the small lotus is turned, you hold a small boat into the depths of the hibiscus. Looking back, there are thousands of tenderness. The pond is full of clear water, reflecting the green lotus like a painting, and the lotus incense is condensed. I engrave my thoughts on your nostalgia. Autumn: Alone in the old alleys, looking at each other across the river. The other shore is now shattered, and there is only one season of frost left. Who are you cutting candles with at night, composing the years together? Leaving me to look at each other near the water, like across Yinchuan, there is nowhere to talk to my heart. Winter: The wind and snow are full of rivers and mountains, and the personnel are mottled. I am a stranger, full of affection, but self-pity. You are a red dust guest, amazing, and in an instant. The last one was ruthless snow, how much infatuation was frostbite?

《Eleven》

It was not late at night, and he was gone, ignoring her tears in the moonlight. Two years in a blink of an eye, on both sides of the world. Her heartbreak healed, and he reappeared, rippling her years like water. The tenderness is still there, and the throbbing gradually calms down. She said to give her a season, she wants to be warm and cold. His heart is like a mirror, but he is perfunctory. She said that the parting after the reunion was too heartbreaking, and it was better not to see it. He said he couldn't sleep at night and just wanted to see a good face. The love silk in two places messed up Meiyu Xintian. He and her decision is to test whether to be tired or want a piece of freedom. In the end, he stood in the rain, bowed his head and was silent, holding an umbrella and stepping into the rain and smoke.

《Twelve》

Fishing fires are scattered, leaning on the side of the bridge, looking at the falling flowers dyed with the wind all over the river, sighing for the years of the water. You said that this song is sent to the king, do not ask for mercy, and the glitz and glamour of the world are difficult to break. Once the spring is gone, how many hearts are exchanged for tears?

On that day, you went up to Loulan alone, wore a Luo shirt, and danced to extinguish the smoke of the troubled times. And I'm over there, looking at the city and dyed with blood, and the king flag at the head of the building is changing. The rivers and mountains are picturesque, and finally a finger of quicksand, and the people of Iraq are like flowers, but the years are fluttering. Seeing each other, the white bones of the exchange are piled up like a mountain, and once the emperor becomes an emperor, he regains the old rivers and mountains. It's just that you have burned like smoke, leaving me to wait for a fruitless thought.

《Thirteen》

The difference between a thought is a red face, and the beacon fire is pouring all over the world, and in the end, it is only exchanged for staying close to each other like the end of the world. He has been injured, and Qingfeng has been blunted. Her eyebrows are frozen, and her heart is locked. He was poor, pierced the curtain of memory, and listened to the red pavilion on the bank of the rainy river. Wanglan Zhou into the painting smoke and misty, Yiren boat head clothes fluttering. Obsessed with the note, affectionate weaving acacia. Unexpectedly, he was involved in honor, and so far he went to the dangerous building alone, and Luoyang looked at it. The red dust is three thousand east and the water is gone, and the yellow sorghum is intoxicating in the world. Several times sinking, a few souls, and the sword and iron hooves trample on the rivers and mountains. The temples have been spotted, the face has been disabled, and finally the blood is in the hands of the country, but the hearts of the people are far away.

《14》

A pot of wind and snow, laughing and raising a glass. He opened his clenched hands and looked at her carved phoenix and jade hairpin, which had been worn down by the years. Then he bowed his head and groaned, and walked into the Qiong Tower. Outside the imperial palace, the snow fell one after another, and the battle was clear. He doesn't listen to the noise, and lets his thoughts spin to the beginning. On the day in the curtain, her flowery appearance of Qiluo's beaded clothes and fragrant sideburns bloomed on Loulan. Looking back, this thought amazed the years, and the blood stained the rivers and mountains. Now the wind is raging and ruffling his white hair, like the feeling of time passing by. Suddenly, an arrow struck, and he clearly heard the sound of the arrow, like mockery, as if regretful. His trembling hands looked at the phoenix hairpin falling, like a marriage, like a Yiren. He closed his eyes and fell. The snow is still falling like crazy, covering up the devastated rivers and mountains, and burying a period of the past.

《Fifteen》

He made her a picturesque country. Under the green window and red candles, holding a thrush to comb her hair. She is like a garment, and she has no regrets. Ten years of harmony, I only wish that the lover will be crowned. The wind blows the flowers all over the building, the green silk surrounds the brows, and the loneliness blooms and the thoughts are thin. For a long time, the glass shines on the white head, how much is gentle like alcohol? Qingzuka to the desolation of dusk, gloomy the night three watches. In the past, Qingqing was happy, before the moon fell, and now the ink splashed plain paper, choked and speechless. He leaned on his solitary back, closed his eyes and sighed softly, letting the past enter the curtain of memory. It's just that the years have not passed away, and the tenderness has been indulging in a thousand ways, and it will eventually be famous. Wow, if you meet Yiru for the first time, you will abandon the emperor, do not give up the dust, and hold your hands for years.

《Sixteen》

The rain hits the plum blossom buckle firewood, lightly twist the floating stamen, and is slightly drunk. Personnel are not ruthless, the wind sends dusk, and the railing alone. How can you fall asleep when the night is dry and the wine is dry? I only tell my heart about the cup of mellow, burn it gently, and there is no gossip in the music book. The end of the world is goodbye, the spring sky is thin, and the new lotus is blooming. The bridgehead is full of strange passers-by, living up to a pool of clear water and blue sky. Gently collect the bamboo sails, drunk and lie on the head of the boat, and the eyes reflect the passing years. Now your natal chart, who accompanies your old face?

《Seventeen》

That year, I rode into the bluestone slab bridge in the light rain. When the umbrella is first opened, your eyes are like water, and you slowly step into the rain and smoke. The apricot blossoms are sparse and the years are fluttering, and the red dust is a dream in the snap of a finger. Therefore, it is difficult to find, leaving only picturesque rivers and mountains. The promise of a long stream of water fell in Ruosu's years, and his heart was as silent as an orchid. My red sleeves add fragrance, and I explain the first glimpse of it. But it is difficult to write new words in the middle of the ink, and he sighs at the moon. That's it, since you are already a stranger to the end of the world, why do you need to get drunk and drunk. It's just that the land you owe me is desolate, and I don't know when I will be able to pay it back?

《Eighteen》

The moon lacks a full moon, the flowers bloom, and the heart moves gently. The shallow flute flows, the curling language is thin at night, and the dream is cold and the heart is knotted. Long remember the first meeting of Mo, the heart of the promise, and swear to carry it with you. The flowers faded red, and there was a little tenderness, and they choked in vain. He slashed his sword, was silent, and choked with tears as he stared at him. Her clothes are stained with blood, with a body of vicissitudes, and she crushes the catastrophe. Sigh. This time Xiao Xiao relied on the rain, he drank the wine alone, drunk the old time. A dream like water, she wrote a note with a grudge, and the end of the world is endless.

《Nineteen》

You say that you will pour out your life, and your white head will not leave, and the fine water will flow for years, and you will be accompanied by clothes. You said that the cold window is ten years, and the group of books is exposition, if you add fame, you will live up to your reputation. But you have been going for eighteen years, and the spring moon boils autumn frost. Waiting for the willow bank of the embankment, Hongyu misses the sadness. Now the red medicine is full of ferries, the boat is in the rain and smoke, the green umbrella is opened two or three, and the eaves are connected to the hills. I walked alone, looking at the spring color full of curtains, and cut my old face. Sigh your promise, hollowing out my years.

《Twenty》

Let's start with these few. Slow hair later.