"Seize the Day".
The have returned to the forest.
Temples in the distance. The bell for the evening repair did not ring.
There were wild cats barking outside the window.
The tea in the house is boiling.
Little nun. A pair of slender hands.
Grab a cup of tea.
Big brother please. Amitabha.
Put your hands together. Sins, sins, sins.
You and I are both cultivators.
So many years. The practice is not very far.
Morning and twilight. God is connected, and the mind is connected.
I only hate the sea and the water ......
I'm snuggling up to you.
You snuggle up to me.
is still cultivated into a stunner in the world.
The joy of Fuxi Nuwa.
*There are also precepts.
"Seize the Day".
"About a Century of Love".
Two magpies are the same.
Twittering. Build.
A small nest of love.
The moon is like a silver hook. Hang high.
Flew into the red sorghum.
Flew into the Golden Sands Tent.
The stubble of youthful madness.
Pierce into plump red lips.
Half female. Half of the subwords.
White skin.
The red drapery ......
Two abnormal hearts ......
Good together. About a century.
Swinging a hoe.
Ploughing the land, a gift from God.
The woman opened her heart.
Men sow seeds.
Carrying the sun on one side.
Carrying the moon on one side.
Beauty forgets time.
About a century.
The sun is still rising and setting.
The moon is still waning.
Women and men are still fine.
Love nest is still ......
A month like a silver hook in the night.
The man reached out.
The white skin ......
The towering breast peak ......
Still in love with ...... in my dreams
About a century.
"Let Life Enter a Game".
When the wind blows.
To live like a balloon.
Wings are not needed.
By the power of the wind.
Tiannan Haibei. Fly like yourself.
When a rainstorm is pouring.
Let yourself be a green leaf.
I don't look out hanging in the treetops.
With the falling rain. Follow the river.
Tumbling and jumping on the crest of the waves.
Flow to the top of the canyon.
Flowing to the sea. Flow.
It's a different world.
Loneliness and loneliness.
It's a little emotion that weighs on my heart.
Being alive is the most beautiful thing that can be.
What has passed will not be repeated.
Just get out of the way.
Flesh and blood, and thinking.
Put life into a game.
Focus. Challenging.
It's a lot of fun.
"Dragonfly Dots the Water".
Harvest season.
A dragonfly. Fly over the ripe waves of wheat.
Stop on the piled wheat straw.
Fly into the grains of the flax.
Stop at the tall sorghum head.
Fly to the Yellow River. Stop on the crest of the rising wave.
Fly over the banks of the Yangtze River.
Flapping his wings.
Roaring with radar.
Along the rapids. Gentle wind, gentle rain.
Fly and fly.
Fly to the top of the canyon.
Fly to the converging sea.
Blue sky and white clouds.
A dragonfly. Fly to.
An inexhaustible source.
"Gaze".
One....Two ......One two three.
After the initial recovery from a serious illness.
Centenarians. Keep your eyes on your feet.
Step out of life.
One step two steps of your own.
One step at a time, two steps ......
One step at a time, two steps ......Old man.
Walk to the recliner in front of the window.
Some dull gaze.
Look into the distance. Wide, still crowded streets.
Some confusion ......Confused.
After a while. As if looking for something.
He poked his head out.
The sun is shining. The winter snow on the floor has not yet melted.
There are games of skiing with parents and children.
There are children supporting the elderly for a walk.
His gaze was much more energetic.
There was a smile in his eyes.........
"Back".
That moment. Her black hair is full of youth.
Sun, snow ......
Red skirt. It is set against the bewitching and beautiful appearance.
Behind your back. It is an inexhaustible image.
Transfiguration into a variety of **.
Fold into memory.
Treasure in the small heart, in the eyes.
A sad parting.
A wonderful memory.
Again and again in the heart of the ripples.
There was a clear sparkle in his eyes.
One day. In front of a mirror.
An old man with a face full of vicissitudes.
Lie calmly on the rocking chaise longue.
A beautiful past.
In his cloudy eyes.
Transform into vivid soap bubbles.
Slowly growing, cracking, disappearing, ......
"Snowflake".
Snowflakes fall on the apricot grove.
Cold winter. Spring flowers bloom.
Snowflakes fall on high-rise buildings.
See. Heaven's Qionglou Yuyu.
Snowflakes fall on a garbage heap on the edge of the city.
It is like a stupa that has been cultivated one by one.
Flat land next to the tower.
It is the Pure Land of the Buddha Kingdom.
Snowflakes fall into the world.
Purified every inch of the mind.
"Beginning of Spring".
Wind. Shook the Joan tree.
Flowers flutter diagonally.
Fall into the mortal dust. Fold out.
The Pure Land of the Buddha Kingdom.
Look for the tallest camphor tree.
Flower magpie walking among snowflakes.
With a fairy grass branch in his mouth.
It should be in time before the beginning of spring.
Build a home. Shepherd's messenger.
Jiro God's hound.
A flock of sheep. Rush to the meadow on the edge of the sky.
"When to walk in reincarnation".
I don't know. When.
The wind. Gently blow through the tight roof.
Influx from all directions.
Unscrupulously into the body.
Taking away memories imprisons life.
When. In the cry of the baby.
A new life is born.
Stand, walk, run-
Hold a hoe in your hand and hoe away the excess weeds of nature.
Vegetables and grains are harvested at sunrise and sunset.
In the cold winter and heat, a square house was built.
Use white paint as the base color.
Dress up in a riot of colours.
Hang the word blessing high.
When. The wind.
Come gently. Gently took away all of this.
When. Evolved life is born and awakened again.
There is no limit to the electronic.
Put the human mind.
Implant the robot's brain.
Let the soul spin in the ** of the Buddha kingdom.
Walk freely through the vast universe.
"Colorful Butterflies".
Colorful butterflies. Fly to the flowers.
Fly into the distance. **Settled.
* It is the way home. The wind is gentle. Gently.
Blowing up the waist-length hair of the spring girl.
Colorful butterflies. Elegant.
Fall in a bun. The pace of the year is near.
The voice of the year was louder.
Greetings. Blessings.
in the eyes. "Colorful Butterflies".
Gently, gently.
fluttering on the window grille.
About the author: Han Liqiang, a native of Inner Mongolia, is a writer and poet, a member of the Chinese Poets and Writers Network, and his representative works include: Chu's Economy, "Destruction", "Love Robbery", "Apricot Blossom", etc.