Time has dyed the fragrance of the passing years

Mondo Culture Updated on 2024-02-03

The world I walked through, looking back, has suddenly blossomed.

In the lines of poetry I have read, there are stories one after another, those stories of love and hatred, I have read them, I am happy and sad, and I can't help but sigh fate.

Time, dyed with the fragrance of the passing years, Mo on the flowers blooming, people come and go, but I can't find a paradise with you, some love, withered, can't go back to the past, those past, long gone.

Life is dancing, my heart, that powerful heart, I don't know when it will jump for whom, and what a beautiful rhythm when it beats, like divine music, like a song of lightness.

Those who walk alone will quietly sprout, those who chase the sea alone, will be like the vast universe, those lotus flowers blooming in the pure land, how beautiful, and my hand touches your incense, it dyes incense, with my slender hands, willing to hold an umbrella for you.

The rain has fallen, the ground has a little wet, the raindrops are dripping in the heart, becoming a refreshing injury, I think, time can ** everything, including your emotional injury, the rain is drenched in bamboo, sighing in vain, time, can it really change everything? Is it possible to heal the wounds of the past?

The years have dyed the fragrance of the years, who will hold my hand in the red dust, and then, grow old with me, just like that, look at you affectionately, until the sky is old, I think the most beautiful look of love is probably like this.

In the poems and distances that my eyes can't reach, how much sadness and helplessness are hidden, how much past is hidden in my melancholy, if my heart can have wings, will it fly to you, if there is a cruise ship in my dreams, will it swim to you resolutely?

Time is quietly flowing, the season of snow flying, your warmth is enough to melt that piece of white snow, I guard a heart of ice, I don't know who to give, I think, the end of time, I will wait for you as scheduled?

Are you really, really, waiting for me at my next intersection, waiting for that extremely warm embrace, there is fate, even if you cross the ditch and the bump, you will always meet you, this is fate.

Related Pages