The sky will not grow old, and the ground is still very long.

2020年4月15日   |   by 科姆龙

The rain is so charming that it is hard to hide my love for spring. The Wind Rises Again. Tell me your little things recently. Never separated, never abandoned, always looking for each other in dreams. The sun shines on the balcony, and when you wake up, your dream will disappear. On a cool moonlit night, the white window is full of candles, the grass and trees are all black, the fragrance of flowers in the yard is like a dream cloud, and a white dress is like snow.
In the boundless world, the decoration is changing. Who secretly accepts the love? Who hides love deeply? Who buried the falling snow in the past life? Who is unwilling to look back and forth year after year. Across with how long, Tianya have how long, I hope peace, this is you. I am the most pious wish.
How can the spark that has no intention of hitting be destroyed? I escaped from the depths of prosperity, standing alone in the high-rise building and looking far away. I could no longer wait for anything, but wanted to see through the long clouds when they would come to the end of the world. The unfinished love, the broken line, don’t want to promise the next life, just love this life.
Strangers raise dust, meet by chance, meet by Karma, cross at random, Ren Qingshan like a picture, let the stream flow long, or the flowers everywhere, or weeds, for you, for me, for whom? Sleepless Tonight, who is bothering me, who is eager to be clean, who broke the string, but tearful poetry in two lines? From then on, that little face came and went.
Yesterday’s west window, the sun was like blood, how many eyes lit up? In the past, it was like the wind, swaying at the first sight, and falling in love with both sides. The figure was as bright as a fainty glow, which stirred many crazy intestines. Love, dyed by the lonely fleeting time, how many times in the dream, wake up in the dream, turned into smoke, beautiful Nana, hazy, disappeared in the clouds and fog.
The oath of “Spring Silkworms end to death, and the wax torch turns into ashes and tears begin to dry”, the sentimental people have sung it for thousands of years? How many people are willing to help each other and how many people are helpless to forget each other in the jianghu. So, so, is it fate? Or deep love? Will the enemy but bustling 3,000, make it through four changes. Walking on the deep and shallow footprints, we are still looking for it. It’s just aimless.
In nature, beautiful picture scroll is the favorite stroke of life. Ink poetry is the most affectionate dictionary of life. Su Yue and Qing Tian, Liu Xi looking alone, is there a heaven outside the nine heaven?
The time is silent, changing the flowers and plants all over the world, is to leave people haggard face. Like the waterfall green silk, it becomes an uncured wound. Lonely Ting Xian, but connected with the strange, you smile fresh and elegant, drunk with countless sentiments, in the simple and simple lines of poetry, there is a simple smile to evoke the heart.
The night is boundless and boundless. I can’t see the end of the world. Will you sing in a low voice under the moon with a group of songs? The red face became an unforgettable picture, accompanied by moonlight and breeze. I pray to the heaven devoutly: no matter in the afterlife, not to mention the present and the past, you are proud of the spring light for the bright pear flowers; I am the green grass, and I am happy with the spring; Oh, I know, I only want this life, beautiful years, tongan Tianya!

Leave Your Comment