Feeling of love of broken bridge

If love can be explained, the oath can be modified. If you meet me, we can reschedule. Then life will be easier. If one day, I can finally forget you. However, this is not a random story. Not tomorrow's play. I couldn't find the manuscript, and then I erased you.

It is full of simple poems, broken words, deep feelings and shallow fate. From then on, you waved your sword on the battlefield, waiting for your thoughts. Warm wine in the porch window and fiddle with the strings alone. Who whispers in a dream and meets fallen leaves in autumn? The water flows by itself, and the lingering flowers rain at night, and Hou Jun returns to acacia. The sword on the battlefield tries the throat, but the tears on the red paper are not collected. Zhu Yan was thin and empty, and he was worried when he heard the news. Music breaks the hook of the moon, darkens the night sky, and the rhyme of the piano makes people feel wrinkled and sad. Who is staring endlessly in the ocean of flowers?

At that time, your long sword wailed, the horizon was heartbroken, the ancient road was barren, and you whipped on the battlefield. That year, I burned incense in front of the temple, closed my eyes and prayed in a low voice. Don't forget. The smoke in the city is speechless, and the broken bridge is full of flowers. For many years, I have been waiting for your pleasure. There has been no first month, no February, no snowy month. The white clothes in front of the mirror are stained with frost, and you are worried after leaving. The east wind is painted on the bridge, and the piano rhyme is elegant like a dream, with clear eyes and always welcoming the gentleman.

On the cold smoke, the late autumn is drifting away, and I am leaning against the castle and enjoying a ray of leisure. The wind swept away the yellow leaves, raised the dust, and removed the romantic past of China. I can't remember how many times, a person leaned lightly on the pavilion and quietly looked down at the leaden sky, which made people depressed. However, at that moment, sadness was faintly revealed, with a ray of loneliness and leisure, wandering in the drifting countryside.

The smoke and sand are boundless, the temples are stained with frost, and the night rain at the porch window is longer. The embroidered couch is bleak, lonely and melancholy, and the dream is flowing. Singing in the dream, the fog covers the silver light, and the fragrance falls. Beside the ancient road, you hold a sword and stare with tears in your eyes. Autumn is red, the dust is boundless, the sword is pale, and the thin horse is heartbroken. I still remember you once said that the red makeup will never be forgotten, and the cold rain has not stopped, but Huasan is very cold. Hate drunk eyes, lost soul, dry stream, Meng Han flower curtain.

When the spring rain crosses the Green Bridge, my heart is melancholy. I play a lute and think about the past like smoke, lingering around and listening to the heartbreaking whisper. A wisp of dream, fragrance. Alone by the bar, the sound of the wind, alone, rhyme, mountains and rivers. In the quiet music of ancient times, there is always something hidden in a pipa without entering the world. In this way, I only locked my sadness in the world of mortals and let go of the bound feelings in my life.

The missed scenery is like a broken glass bottle. No matter how hard you try, it can't be undone. Some people say that waiting is only for a heart-to-heart meeting. You and I met, without prior agreement or waiting, but inadvertently appeared in each other's lives. Perhaps, we will eventually become passers-by and have our own happiness, but I still thank you.

There are twists and turns, ups and downs. It's better not to see each other, and it's harder to leave. You should know how to beat loneliness and cherish flowers. Since autumn, my heart ached, even though I was speechless. Cross-strait, multi-meaning, cuckoo sound bitter. Tears ran out in the pavilion, and I watched the sunset. Banana meets drizzle again, duckweed meets duckweed, and it is sour and clear. More of a sigh, how many things went wrong and failed!

Once upon a time, on such a summer day, our acquaintance was so beautiful. Once upon a time, on such a small road, you took my hand and vowed to accompany me through the difficult road of life. Once upon a time, right next to such a tree, you kissed my lips and said you would give me happiness. Once upon a time, in such a late night, you said you would never leave me.

I walked into your eyes and glanced at you. You absorbed the face of youth. Originally, there was a kind of love called parting, but the loving heart could never depend on each other; -It turns out that there is a kind of yearning called faraway, which can only precipitate with the passage of time; It turns out that there is a kind of love called no regrets, but it has been engraved in each other's hearts. My pen and ink will always be engraved with passers-by in my life. Once met, but passed by.

It was a fleeting time, who was still looking forward to it? Time passed, and it was still singing without regrets. Looking at the tears in the ice, copying a love answer sheet for thousands of years, is it concise enough? Maybe in this life, you are my unforgettable fate. Perhaps, in this life, I am only lingering for you. The north of the northland and the south of the southland, even though and heaven remains our neighbourhood, the proverbs I wrote for you will not increase or decrease, and I have already entrusted the sun and the moon with my thoughts about you.

You are not who you used to be, and he is not who he used to be. Time has taken us away, and every second is the past. Don't go to the barber shop to cut your hair, and don't promise the person who tramples on your feelings. There is no feeling to go back in this world, and there is no you and me to go back. I drank 3,000 games with you and laughed 3,000 games. There is no hope for the frontier to continue.

Those who think they have lost; What you think you care about is ignored; Think intimate, strange; Thought it was permanently withered. Those people you can't let go, some disappear in front of your eyes, some disappear in your mind, and some never even appear. We laugh at the absurdity of life, but life laughs at our sadness.

As I grow older, I gradually become deep, no longer laughing at a childish joke, no longer complaining at will, and no longer telling others my innermost secrets easily. No one can tell whether this is maturity or depression. There is still a long way to go. We must live no matter what, whether it is pain or happiness, we must face it. After all, we can't escape if we want to.

Some love doesn't help even if you give everything. Not loving is not loving. No matter how much effort and waiting, it's all in vain, and the rest is just humility. So turn around smartly and give yourself a strong reason to find the next exit. In the face of cruel reality, love has too much helplessness. Even in the face of a rare true love, I can only endure the pain and let go, dispelling the regrets that have fallen, and the memory has become the only warmth left.

All the endings have been written, all the tears have started, but suddenly I forget what a beginning this is. No matter how I pursue it, young you just pass by like a cloud, and your smiling face is extremely shallow and light, gradually disappearing into the haze after sunset. Then I opened the yellow title page, and fate bound it badly. I read it again and again, and my eyes filled with tears, but I have to admit that Youth is a sloppy book.