The snow and the moon reflect the icy sky.
The rivers are five plains.
The north and the south are far away.
Mountains and rivers are more lingering.
The warbler cries old.
The old drunken gentleman in front.
Lovers think of themselves.
Dynasty and year after year.
The ancients did not recover the east of Luocheng, and today's people are still interested in falling flowers. The flowers are similar every year, but the people are different every year. Send a message to the full glory of the face, and should pity the half-dead pulsatilla. This Weng is so pitiful, Yixi is a beautiful young man....But looking at the ancient singing and dancing place, only the birds and birds are sad at dusk. "The sun and the moon push each other, the four seasons change, the day and night change, and life is year by year. Whether we realize it or not, the course of life begins day after day, from the childhood of thoughtlessness, to the fantasy of childhood, to the dream of youth, to the ideal youth, to the middle age of not confused, to the year of destiny, and then to the twilight of thoughtless thought, life has completed a cycle of life and death in such ups and downs.
If life is only as first seen, what is the autumn wind and sad fan. Waiting for idle changes but old people's hearts, but old people's hearts are changeable. "If life is only as it first seems, it is beautiful and bleak. Perhaps in that warm spring day, we planted the seeds of tomorrow for each other, and always thought that when the leaves fell in autumn, we would take it for granted that we would harvest the fruits of the branches. The vicissitudes of the world, the changes of human feelings, in the ocean of life, we do not follow the flow, in the joys and sorrows, we do not do flying flowers. Every year, the flowers are like flowers, and people are of the same mind every year!Life is like a piece of stone bricks paving for future generations, maybe we will never see the Great Wall, but the glorious shore of the Great Wall was born in this insignificant brick and tile.
Thinking about the past, I feel sad. Nostalgic for the homeland, empty traces". Year after year, the flowers are similar every year, year after year, year after year, year after year, year after year. We move randomly in our existence, and we do not deviate from our roots in the midst of change. The spring breeze walks, the earth awakens, the sky is warm and the flowers are blooming, the flowers in the green garden are similar every year, the north wind is approaching, everything is withering, and the ice and snow are ruthless. The sky is long, and I sigh that life is like a meteor in the sky, the earth is barren, and the world is helpless. Maybe the flowers bloom and fall, only for the mountains, rivers and fields are full of fragrance, and the years go to the year, only for the sun, moon and stars to split the earth and open the sky. People grow old in time, and people are as small as they are in space. Perhaps, the merciless time and space don't care about the dusty life passers-by at all, why should we beg for this ruthless time of clouds and lightning to stop and linger?