Bixuan window, red embroidery pavilion. Gently pull the curtain and lean on the railing.
The willows are green and the shore is low, and the mirror lake is full of sorrow.
Bright pink and delicate red fell all over the ground, and the song of the horizontal flute and the geese cried.
If Fang Fei is gone, when will the smoke and rain stop?
In the shallow place, the shadow of the flowers. On the rice paper, the water is like the heart, splashing ink and danqing, and the pen is depicted. The title is written out of chapter, the red note is a sentence, a word scroll is smoky, and a page is dusty like a dream. I still remember the years, the fog is horizontal, and the soft fragrance is full of paths. Green white shirt, sparse and handsome. The outline is deep, the phoenix eyes are rippling, the sword eyebrows are in the sideburns, and the nose is like a knife.
Humble gentleman, well-dressed. Awe-inspiring as the wind blowing the jade tree, the snow wrapping the buds; Out of the dust is like a fairy coming to the world, reckless and slow. The flow of eye waves, the expectation of a lifetime; The dark fragrance is pervasive, lingering in a lifetime of marriage. Obsessively staring, inch by inch soft intestines, the fragrance of the next world, on the water side. The breeze swept across the lake, and the autumn pond rippled. The watch stationed for thousands of years has moistened the heart and exaggerated the love. Sky fire meteors, through the eternal wind and snow moon, charming and romantic water-like tenderness.
Twenty-three silk gonghou, an ethereal promise of the previous life, playing the Xiao Yin of the three dynasties twisted the strings of the five generations. Yi'an Xiaoling, Yan Bang Qingsi stepped on the moon and sang, and the flying flowers in the dream were infinite. Don't sing the songs, don't recite the poems, don't read the Chu Ci, The eternal fragrance soaks the skin, the fiery feelings flow through the veins, happiness, endure! The red of the peach blossoms, the faint fragrance of the light pink lotus, the soft man of picking the catkins, the ethereal of the wilderness, the beauty of the lake, the smoothness of the green silk, the beauty of the face, the elegance of the light feathers, I only hope that my swaying figure will flood beautifully in your eyes.
Aesthetic artistic conception, graceful vision. The wind passes, the flowers are rainy, fragrant, and the moonlight is faint. Allow me to look back, let me meet once, let me fall in love for a lifetime, let me stay together for a lifetime, Wash away the lead, and wash away the dust. Waiting, in the obsession without regrets, the heart is bent, weaving one curtain after another of graceful and beautiful dreams; Love, in the clear plain paper, dripping tears, splashing volume after volume of ancient and elegant ink.
Twisting Yaoqin's green cloud water Zen heart, the sound is clear, Xu Sansheng's love is tied to the fate of this life, and he is sorrowful and lightly locked, untying a knot of a hundred turns of soft intestines. Thousands of strands of green silk are rolled up like a waterfall, and the clouds and temples are pulled, so that the charm of the hairpin ring lights up the gloom of the world. Under the ten thousand kinds of style, laugh at the loss of color of a 3,000 fandel.
Depicting the thin willow of the moth eyebrows, the double pupils of the water, the Shaohua who crushed the face of the flickering years, the lonely fang admired himself, and sighed the sorrow of the years like water. The smiling and looking for the bright eyes of the Lingxi Wisdom, the autumn rain of the sycamore, the butterfly that leads Zhuang Sheng at the beginning of the fall of Fangfei, drunk and dreaming of death, take a scoop of cold and warm self-aware tears.
Stroll through the pavilions and water pavilions under the willows of the flower steps, the falling flowers are colorful, the fragrance of the incense is full of feelings, and the soft and gentle Huanhuan is expressive, expressing a quiet and clear state of mind. Standing by the deep boudoir window in the night, painting the moon by the railing, watching the journey of the prosperity of the world and the annihilation of the vicissitudes of life, in the wind and rain, drink a cup of aging from the bottom of your heart. Collect crystal clear midnight dewdrops, boil water to cook tea, taste the crisp tea and taste the sweet life, and enjoy a volume of poetic and eternal fragrance in the fireworks year.
The wind blows and the water wrinkles, and the waves are quiet. The clouds are rainy, and the man dance is ethereal. The ripples were speechless, rippling, and gradually spreading. A little sorrow, a little confusion, a little hesitation, a little hesitation. The tears of the red candle poured down, the cold sandbar west wind thinned away, the smoke and waves flowed, a pear tree flew like snow all over the sky, and a curtain of smoke and rain was like a thousand years of melancholy. The tiredness of the bluebird left the colored paper on the mountainside; The fatigue of the voyage stranded the white sails on the ferry. The water of the Mae is full of loneliness, and the fire of fishing shines alone tonight. Traveling thousands of miles and crossing thousands of mountains by boat. Stop, look back, only the deep bridge remains, the gurgling water is still there; Flowers, bursts of fragrant fragrance are still there.
Through the light wind and rain, through the deep sky, through the dusty fireworks, through the reincarnation of fate, through the millennium reflection, through the wind and frost of 10,000 years, freeze a dust-free heart, an open-minded feeling, an indifferent thought, a wisp of ......
I only hope that in this life, spring will come together, the summer solstice will sleep in the same shade, the autumn will be high and the moon will be accompanied, and the cold will be hidden in the sky. A drop of dew, a glittering rose; A cool breeze opens a lake of spring water; A paddle of fireworks, stirring up a pool of affection; Wearing a green shirt, he is in a state of mind.
With his thoughts and memories, he raised his eyebrows. The courtyard is deep, and the sun shines at night; Qionglou Yuyu, a few flowers before the moon; embroidered pavilion window, several affectionate gazes; The smoke and rain are haunting dreams. The breeze and waning moon on the other side, blowing through the quiet dream, the willow tops dancing alone, the fluttering flocculents, swinging away the loneliness. The fingers twisted the flute, ignited boundless affection, tore the heart, and kneaded the intestines. The curtain half-covers the bleak wind, brewing a kind of lovesickness and two sorrows, only to frown, but on the heart.
Time and space, weaving cobwebs, leaking all thoughts. The distance is immeasurable, and the end of the world is broken. Waiting for an immortal legend, the evening drum and morning bell, the green lantern ancient Buddha, gathered and scattered like a shadow, looking back on the millennium. In the tears of the sea, the clouds of Wushan, and the prosperity of Zimo Hongchen, I suddenly looked back, the face like a flower, the tenderness like the sea, will shine with the yellowing of light and shadow, and engrave the eternal beautiful moment on the test paper.
Tonight, I went to Lanzhou, and I went to Fangcao; I don't want to dance willows, I don't remember the flowers. The clouds are broken, and the shadows are sparse and oblique; The geese passed, and the roost was silent. At this time, with you, Chanjuan. In the turmoil, the heart that has been drunk for thousands of years has never woken up, and it is intoxicated and leisurely. Dusty and strange, kiss a flower, and the face is clear; Listen to a tide, the vicissitudes of life; Stop a building, the wind is full of sleeves; Taste a word, acacia thin. Crape myrtle is sparse, hibiscus is sparse, and Mo is first smoked; The window of Yunyingxuan, the quiet alley is clear, and the whispering is soft. The traces of the Lingge printing and dyeing years are scattered into the wind, holding the dream of Xiantan at one end, and the Acacia Mingyue Building at the other. The mood is curling, and the painting is leisurely.
Su Xin is like snow, and he writes slowly to sign the Yu Palace; The fragrance of books makes wine, and the words are clear; Red note message, delivery tossing and turning; Splash ink, condense the rhyme and danqing painting. Fireworks flow for years, silently count the cold in the loneliness and pain, enjoy the Shaohua quietly in the light song and dance, wait for the flowers to fall under the eaves in front of the court, and sit and watch the clouds rise under the canopy. The peach blossoms are dyed red, and the flowers are lightly smeared with fragrance. In the depths of the red dust, one side of the mandarin duck brocade, one branch and Tilian, stepping on the moon and singing, holding the spring and autumn, the soul and dream of this life are connected.
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