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In the heart, there is no pure land, and the monks and nuns are originally heroes.
Dream without a trace, the Buddha is a world, a mortal guest, but the bridge is empty.
The avenue is invisible and empty, and in the laughter and conversation, the three thousand worlds are all in the red dust.
I didn't see the sound of monks and nuns chanting Buddhas, and Mida's words shocked the world, and he saw through the red dust and everything was light.
Buddha has no heart, why bother to search for the red dust, the world is empty and lonely, and the monks and nuns are better than a thousand gold.
As soon as I enter the red dust, everything is light, spend the rest of my life, I don't understand the meaning, and the bright moon shines on me.
Take a photo under the Bodhi tree, the monks and nuns are broken in front of the Buddha, where is the Amitabha top, and there is a lover on the red dust road.
Reciting the Mida, I hope that there is no pure land in the empty door of the red dust, and sing the song of the great wind.
The wine is sad and sleepless at night, tears are pouring down, the flying flowers and fallen leaves go with the wind, and a piece of mourning sends the full moon.
A few times of sad tears, sorrowful hearts and minds, a wisp of mourning goes with the wind, and flying flowers sleep with the moon.
The world is full of love, who has not yet fallen into the house, there is nowhere to sue, and the tears are blurred and the moon is shining.
A song of falling leaves all over the world, sad bowels, blowing away lovesick tears and dyeing the veil.
Looking forward to the return of spring, thousands of tears wet green shirts fly thousands of flowers, hanging to the sky.
The autumn wind is bleak and tearful, the wine is drunk and does not return, a song of mourning is sung through the ages, and the dream of flying flowers and flowing water is vague.
Hurt the past, who can solve the blood knots of mourning and crying, a sad song full of tears.
Don't be confused, the fallen leaves and flowers are sad a few times, and the wine is easy to get drunk, and there are no tears.
There are thousands of knots in the intestines, and there are dreams involved, and the fallen leaves fly and the flowers send Chanjuan.
On the lovesick tears, the sorrowful wisps go with the wind, and fall asleep.
The flying flowers are empty and lonely, and now the fallen leaves are self-inflicted, and no one complains, leaning on the railing alone and crying.
Thousands of miles of mourning, accompany me, wine into the intestines of people are easy to get drunk, Sijun can't stop crying.
The hatred is not gone, the tears are like a tide, and the flying flowers are incomprehensible and cross the Xie Bridge.
Vaguely tears wet the veil, sad knots are the most west window rain, and the flowers fly to thousands of homes overnight.
The flying flowers are full of plackets, a little Fu Yaoqin, and the sad knots are looking for it in a dream.
The mourning has fallen with the flying flowers without a trace, and the sad knots and green shirts remember the old people.
Pouring blocks, sleeves and wet clothes, not dissociating from people's will, falling all over the sky.
Xiaoxiang's tears have not disappeared, for whom to pour, a wisp of mourning flowers fly into a dream.
Falling leaves and flying flowers for another year, dreams are difficult to come true, who can solve a hundred knots, and I feel self-pity for a thousand tears.
A song of mourning to the moon, flying flowers and falling leaves dancing, and the autumn wind is incomprehensible and knocks on the window with more tears.
Broken bowels, wet red makeup, flying flowers, and sorrowful wounds.
Tears wet green shirt dreams can't help it, who is sad and sorrowful, the most sad is the moon in the sky, still shining on the lonely heart of the flying flowers.
A few dreams of mournful love turned into flying flowers, and the sorrowful knots and green shirts hated endlessly.
Win chrysanthemums, talk mulberry hemp, I don't know where to climb today, but there is Chongyang drunk my family.
Drunk lying on the east fence to enjoy the sunset, the chrysanthemum blooms and does not see the climber, who tastes tea today.
Where is it, every time I go to Chongyang, I feel sad, and my eyes are full of chrysanthemums and the wine is desolate.
Near Chongyang, today's chrysanthemums are blooming just right, and the words are bleak.
The garden is full of incense, the east fence admires the moonlight, and it doesn't matter if you climb high today.
Drunk autumn light, full of chrysanthemums Chongyang Festival, where is the day.
Last year, on the September day of Chongyang Festival, the chrysanthemums bloomed just right, and I was intoxicated.
Chrysanthemums bloom all over the garden, pick a wisp of incense in the east fence, climb high and admire the moon today, and he will talk about wine in Chongyang.
A wisp of incense in the east fence, chrysanthemums bloom next to the small building, where are the people during the festival, and today's lovesickness is broken.
The autumn wind is urgent, looking at the hometown, the opening is blooming, and the east fence is desolate about the wine.
When people don't know, the wine asked Tao Gong, looking at the bright moon, and it was winter after the Chongyang Festival.
The autumn color of the east fence is better than the spring light, it is extraordinarily fragrant, the festival is coming, I don't know who is busy today.
Today, I climbed high and thought of my hometown, and the dogwood was full of chrysanthemum wine, and I was drunk and lying on the east fence to enjoy Huanghua.
Send cool and chongyang, today climb high and look at the hometown, chrysanthemums bloom, and the east fence will talk about the vicissitudes of wine.
Chrysanthemums bloom full of fragrance, a wisp of incense, climb high and admire the moon, he talks about wine in the new year.
Today, climb high and look at the hometown, after the double sun and autumn cool, the chrysanthemum is not dissociated, and still send dark fragrance to the east fence.
In the event of Chongyang, today's chrysanthemums are blooming, and the wine talk is vicissitudes.
Chrysanthemums bloom and autumn is cool, the words are short and long, today climb high and think of the hometown, twice a year to meet Chongyang.
Talking about wine and mulberry hemp, drunk and lying in Nanshan to enjoy chrysanthemums, it is the Double Ninth Festival, who is in today's house.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art.