A beautiful sentence describes an ancient rhythm that is beautiful to the heart.

It is said that Shuangxi Spring is still good, and it is also planned to make canoes. I'm afraid the boat won't move. I'm worried.

Los Angeles is silent, the pen is broken, the dust is dancing, the quicksand is flying, the Qinhuai drizzle is sad, the ink is warm in Ike, the moon is bright in Qin Dynasty, and it is wonderful to move over the female wall. The window blows late, the waning moon sets, stepping on the shadow shakes the whole city, dreaming brilliantly, falling to the ground, touching the pain you left behind, and unconsciously wetting the tears in the corner of your eyes.

Suddenly looking back, the man was there, dimly lit.

If you have nothing to say, go to the west building alone, the moon is like a hook, and the lonely sycamore deep courtyard locks the clear autumn.

If a beauty has a dream, a gentleman can solve it; If a gentleman has words, then a beauty can listen; When all the prosperity is exhausted, it will turn into misty rain, wither with flowers, bend with the moon, the frost is heavy, and I am lonely as smoke. You sit alone like a lotus, and the evening breeze quietly passes through the window lattice, leaving a clear ice pain and a touch of worry. When can you read those affectionate eyes?

Love hurts, how many people suffer, how many memories are erased, how many feelings are sad, how many cold feelings are cleared, and how many thoughts are lost. Even if a moth puts out the fire, it still doesn't hesitate. They only look at love and hurt themselves, but they can't end their lives. They shed a lot of spoony tears, drank a glass of turbid wine and tasted how much ordinary love! If you are my lotus, let me keep a long-term affection for you in my life.

Lonely boudoir, one inch of sorrow. Cherish the spring to go, when to rush the rain.

Under the sansheng tree, I met you. After meeting you, I was born again.

To be together, it is difficult to look at each other, and everyone is heartbroken; Love is fleeting, but hate is long and the lights are dim. Traveling in Qian Shan, wading through thousands of waters, missing tears on the road; Spring flowers bloom, autumn leaves fall, and fragrance remains after prosperity; The wine is strong, the heart is drunk, and the shirt is lightly sleeved; Thinking of autumn water, thinking of Iraqis, close at hand, close to Yuanyang; The love of past lives, the debt of this life, the dream of reincarnation of the world of mortals.

There is no ending of marriage, and the ending of marriage has become a passer-by.

You are a bead in front of the Buddha. When the dust settles, your love memory will be as bleak as the wind and frost. I am willing to fall in love with you in my last life, perhaps just to exchange my meeting with you in this life. I can't dream because of your lotus nut, I just want to get the flowers in this life and the thousands of years of waiting for you and me in my last life!

Looking for it, it's cold and gloomy.

That life-long love is a long-term yearning, how cold and desolate it is, how much moss overflows, how much misty rain turns into, and how much ordinary love blows away! I am sad, but I can only be a passer-by in my life. I occasionally remind you and forget, so I repeat the plot of our life. Finally, people dispersed, leaving only the past that was blown down by the wind and the past that could not be forgotten. ...

But since the water is still flowing, although we cut it with a sword and raise a cup to drown your sorrow.

If life is just like the first sight, why draw a fan in the autumn wind? It is easy to change, and it is also easy to change. Lishan language is clear at midnight, and the rain bell doesn't complain at night. More importantly, if you are lucky enough, you will be more willing than before. Love doesn't have to die, the fragrance is just right, and ruthlessness doesn't necessarily mean rejection. I just want you to remember: Love at first sight smiles at each other.

Tears in the sea, clouds in the mountains, and the world of mortals suddenly look back, and the beautiful face and tenderness like the sea will shine endless light and shadow, and carve eternal beautiful moments in the history books. Tonight, I stay away from the blue boat and the grass; I don't want to dance on the willow tree, and I don't remember flying flowers. The clouds are broken and the shadows are oblique; The geese passed by and settled quietly. At this point, I just want to be with you, * * * ChanJuan.

Ten years is to keep ten years, and ten years is not in sight.

Walking on the road with headphones on. The noise and silence of the world have nothing to do with me.

Looking back for the last time on Naihe Bridge, I turned my last nostalgia for the world of mortals into two lines of clear tears on my pale cheeks. Tears entered Meng Po Tang and stayed in Sansheng Stone and past lives. Many samsaras came to my eyes, frozen for thousands of years, lonely for thousands of years, and everything was silent at that moment. How can we leave in previous lives, meet in this life, and meet again in the afterlife? Life is like a dream, a thousand times. . .

Flowers bloom and fall, and flowing water gurgles. One kind of lovesickness, two places of leisure. There is no way to eliminate this situation, only frown and mind.

Suffocating Aestheticism and Sad Old China Sentence;

Autumn wind and autumn rain are worrying!

Teenagers don't know what it's like to worry about new words.

Whose youth has been put on white, whose youth is also put on white.

In the dream, whose Yu Di is lingering and whose song is melodious and euphemistic? The sound of the wind is like the sound of nature on the earth. The echo drops from the running water, crosses the mountains and falls in the wind hundreds of times. The slightest tenderness is like a flower falling all over the sky. The petals float across the beauty and fall on the pillow, melting into thousands in the dream. When you listen to forget yourself, three points of water and seven points of spring scenery, and the wine is very sweet.

When your indifference exceeds the load my heart can bear. Then I'll give you my heart and then I'll leave.

It began to rain in my sky, but I felt very hurt without an umbrella. .

Into the world of mortals, only because of the temperament of being separated from misty rain, talking about the world of mortals, only because of loving the ethereal spirit of misty rain, sighing the world of mortals, only because of seeing the sadness of misty rain. I love the world of mortals, but I can't love it like misty rain. I look forward to the world of mortals, but I can't expect the world of mortals to be as cold as misty rain. I hate the world of mortals to be chaotic as misty rain, but I can't bear it to fly like misty rain. . . . Misty rain and red dust, little tears.

Holding hands and looking at each other with tears, I was speechless and choked up. I thought about it. Thousands of miles of smoke and waves, the twilight is heavy.

The wind has stopped the dust and flowers, and I am tired of combing my hair at night. Things are people, not everything, and tears flow first.

On that day, you were the end of the world and I was the cape, looking at each other in pairs, desperate to rely on each other; At that time, you were the bright moon and I was the clear spring, inseparable and entangled; In that life, you were by Qingshui River and I was by Naihe Bridge. Your affectionate call, my affectionate. After all, we are not fairy tales. With you, we are just cartoons that I missed my whole life.

From the day you left, I decided not to shed tears and face the wind without blinking. ...

Once, I remember packing a meal in the canteen at noon, and suddenly it rained heavily. I called my classmate and asked her to give me an umbrella, and then I waited at the door with a lunch box. During the ten minutes, three people asked me which building I lived in and wanted to take me back. I am very touched. It turns out that the students in Normal University are so loving ... (Do you look good, girl ...)

If you can do it without being sad, it doesn't matter what you change

When you are in Sauvignon Blanc, you will remember your appearance.

In this life, you are my confidante who has been forgotten for thousands of years. You are me, dyed red and dispelled my sad thoughts. Origin and fate, passing by, who dumped my city, whose heart I lost, from then on, I forgot the end of the world and never had the face to face it again. With you, missing a season is the season of falling flowers. Dressed in red, the skirt is fluttering, and the smooth sleeves are thrown out, as if throwing out a thousand years of the past.

Who is smiling in your arms when I am crying?

I once met in the purest age, was happy in the flamboyant youth, and separated in the vicissitudes of life, expecting to meet again when the dust settled, just to confirm your happiness, just to see your smile again, and then, left indifferently and never came home again. Only a faint fragrance is left, scattered in the changing spring and autumn, lingering and penetrating the world of mortals. ...

Flowers are still flowing with the passing water, and a spring dream is different from the dawn of the night. I once wrote a book for the residual butterfly, and I was dumbfounded for a long time. The stylus became sad, tears fell with the words, and the crescent moon fell in memory of those childhood friends.

If you see the faults and lengths of all beings every day, you should repent at once. This is an exercise.

Immortal elegance under the green monument, gorgeous lonely years, dead-leaf butterflies of flowers, dancing with their wings folded, whose blood and tears are buried underground, whose stories are changing in troubled times. A thousand years of tears, eternal love, endless, but a person's world. The empty city is shrouded in smoke and dust, and under the ruins, lonely souls are free to learn the next peerless myth.

Pen flowers, light dark, plain ink, makeup on the face, full of tears, a cold smile, a light drink, comfort the vicissitudes of life, rocking the boat, boating on the lake, a wisp of light smoke, fishing alone in the cold river to avoid snow, rippling layer by layer, the light pen is still for you, filling the broken sentences and chapters.

After meeting you, waiting for you, waiting for you to meet you.

The wind has stopped the dust, the fragrant flowers have blossomed, and I am tired of combing my hair at night. Things are people, not everything, and tears flow first. It is said that Shuangxi Spring is still good, and it is also planned to make canoes. I'm afraid the ship can't carry much worry. -Li Qingzhao's Wuling Spring Festival Evening

White hair three thousands of feet, sorrow like a beard.

Heart is like the sea, love is like flowers, infatuation. Have you ever paid someone wrong? Who is to blame for the tears of beautiful women? Who is it, singing in the ear; who is it? Pledge of eternal love Surging, my heart seems to have returned to that year. You and I are holding hands, leaning against each other and strolling on this faint ancient road. Now, the years have passed, dreams are like fog and electricity, and there is no regret in my life. Love is everywhere, and beauty is in an instant.

The wind is bitter, the water is cold, the whole lotus is fragrant, the peony is fragrant, the morning dew is drunk, the kiss xiu is faint, and the drizzle is dusk, just like hanging a curtain and lusting after the lips. Li Xiao sits at his desk, taking pictures of the flower wall, the bamboo forest breeze, sending a piece of paper, singing and dancing like jade, soaking in half a cup of tea fragrance to watch the world drift away, sighing about Yu He's residual dew and complaining about his face dyeing. Drunk tonight, time has passed; Memories of the past, simple notes. The pupa becomes a butterfly, and the butterfly breaks into a flower, but the flower flies with the wind. Sing a few whispers and get drunk and ask what year it is today.

If we are all children, we can stay where time is, sit together and slowly bow our heads, while listening to the story of never getting old.

If life is just like the first sight, why draw a fan in the autumn wind?

Tears ask flowers silently, and red flies over the swing.

When the prosperous time was broken, I saw a sad place in front of the ruined flowers. All vows are not as good as fate, and it is incomplete to transform a prosperous ending. Who sees the world for whom? Who is looking for who to go home, and who is making flowers for whom and scattering them in the rain? I muttered in my mind, afraid to forget. Make one last wish before reincarnation. Has anyone exchanged a minute's waiting for my life's expectation?

I don't cry when I miss a song, but I'm sad, just sad. I've been looking for you for half my life, but I haven't seen you at close range, and I can't forget it. What should I think? Drinking also hurts, but it's sad. Is the most affectionate, but it is parting. I don't know why I fell in love. I have a thin face and a hazy figure. I can't hold it. Once gentleness was in my hands, unfinished, but it ended in a flashy ending. For three thousand years, the two worlds have been out of touch with each other, and only the dusty road is chaotic. ...

The autumn wind is clear and the autumn moon is bright. When the fallen leaves are scattered, the habitat in western Western jackdaw is full of surprises. It's embarrassing to meet each other on blind dates; When you enter my lovesick door, you will know that I am lovesick and bitter. Looking back, I am lovesick and infinite. If I had known this, I wouldn't have known him.

If I can, I can accompany you for a thousand years. I just want to care about you and smile. If you like, I am willing to accompany you forever, I just want to accompany you forever. Your face is like a lotus in my heart. The sunset sprinkles ink and whispers softly, and several fireworks fly all over the sky in an instant. Are you still sitting in a long pavilion, with sandy jade fingers, wrapped in the warmth of the breeze, drawing the horizon and starting from the Mekong River?

Sweet dew is precious, it will be sad when it falls, and flowers will be picked at dusk, sighing and missing. Standing alone under the moon, we were inseparable. A blue lamp looks at flowers, a lonely crescent moon bends, the ground is chaotic, it blooms instantly, and it is lost in the throbbing mood. Years are buried under the rain of phoenix trees, madly in love with your 3,000 hair.

After dusk, Dongli wine is fragrant. Don't say clear autumn is not a person, the west wind rolls the flag and beads curtain, and the person in the curtain is thinner than that Huang Ju.

, first real name, one thousand years, who can match.

I can't have too much, everything is just a fantasy.

I can't bear to be the master of a prosperous time and listen to the songs of a prosperous time. Painful lovesickness has ignited another kind of loneliness, which has frustrated the love of generations and will eventually stop at the picture of parting. The beautiful parting long shadow opened our distance. This shore, you are on the other side of the river, and I can only say hello to you through the fog. You insisted on stepping on my heart and leaving.

Wine turns into acacia tears when it enters sorrow.

Yellow flowers are piled all over the floor. Who can pick it now? Looking out the window, how can a person be dark?

Love in this life pays off acacia, and flowers shake tears. Don't look back. I'm just drunk for the Iraqis. How can you be as cold as ice if you can't control yourself if you are unfathomable? I will miss a pot of warmth and drink the past; Wandering around the world, just smiling for the beautiful scenery, but not missing this drop, it makes people feel deeply grieved! Where we met, the purple smoke was long, the horizon was broken, and the words were still bleak. If true, if false; I'm stupid, I can laugh.

. Xuan paper is dyed with ink, Hanlin narrates thesaurus, holds brocade, acts as a dream, describes a piece of acacia and ink fragrance, and is lingering with calligraphy. The Yuan Song of Han Fu, a farewell song, was stained with Tang Shining's lyrics. During the Jin Dynasty, he wrote a gorgeous farewell song, resting in pain, sleeping in that life, hurting his soul sadly and becoming miserable. Pointing at the fallen flowers, the rain is turning into butterflies, wind and smoke, and dreams. I know a volume of Sanskrit.

Happiness won't miss anyone, it will find you sooner or later. Please wait if you like.

The moon is still silent, and the years have turned several times in the world. It's hard not to talk when you look at the world of mortals and misty rain river! I don't know how to correct my mistakes, just like a frozen picture. Feelings are long, and those pains and feelings again and again are just an empty dream in retrospect.

I wanted to compare my heart to the bright moon, but the bright moon lit up the canal.

Have you ever believed in a person, friendship or love, but been slapped hard by reality?

We are all passers-by in the world of mortals. I have a crush on you? Who broke my heart for me? The vast sea of people, who am I staying for? Who is waiting for me? How long can the scenery of the hidden moon be treasured? The world of mortals smiles, how many people have never found their true love, and how many people have lost themselves in the search. . . . Tears for the residual flowers in the sunset, so that the love of a lifetime turns into the withering of the corner of my eye.

The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness tell more in silence than in voice.

... class =' class1' > fatigue, joys and sorrows, seclusion of the stars and the moon, solitary life, tears, drunken shadows, red sandalwood ... Rose is cold and weak, playing absolute beauty, with a swaying face, and the solo is over. Cold dreams come into being, mountains are picturesque and lofty sentiments are empty. I will write a piece of ink for you and write down the love on earth. Yuanyang playing in the water, Tsinghua ups and downs, leaning on the bar and thinking deeply, hating the morning light.

Spring breeze is proud of horseshoe disease, and you can see Chang 'an flowers all in one day.

Who did you thank for the bonus? The leaves are green. Who is it? Who is cold in the moon? The wind dispersed. Who is it? Flowers bloom in one season and wither in another. Trees spit green and the ground turns yellow. A hook of Leng Yue is full of lovesickness! After all, it is a reincarnation of past lives, and I can only accept my fate if I don't want to. I really don't care, I just can't do it. So, I forgot when I walked along the way, and I turned back frequently all the way, unwilling, unwilling, and unbearable …

Maybe you don't know I exist, but I never regret liking you.

What we put down and what we can't put down are all lives. What comes out and what doesn't come out are all feelings.

Lonely stars are broken, dreams are broken, and clothes are cold. Yan in the mirror, looking through the curtains under the thin moon, is full of sad expectations. I always want to avoid those memories about you, return to the final peace, and make my heart calm and calm. However, at the moment of turning your head, you forgot the tenderness of the Millennium and planted an unforgettable injury for me in this life; If you are drunk, you will be drunk and have endless worries in this life. Inside and outside the volume, every word is engraved in my heart, but only one song sings the same story and fades into my heart.

Looking back on past lives, we became attached to each other in this life, and the world of mortals is rolling. Who can follow? The so-called Iraqis, water side, hard to rely on, tears flow thousands of times! A person leaning against the window, the bright moon in the sky, looking around, a person sad! Love is hard to cut, lovesickness is hard to break, I think about it day and night, and I look forward to it every night! Magpie in the branches, with sadness, hopeless heart, tears spilled on the skirt! Time flies, how can it be wasted? Beauty is easy to get old, but how to flow? If you are interdependent, don't leave!

If two kinds of feelings last for a long time, sooner or later.

Iraqis in the mirror, flowers and shadows, the moon scattered. If there is no chance in the world, who will I remember? Wash away the lead, repair the capacity and cover up the heart, and love will go with the wind. Who am I willing to forget? The world of mortals is locked in, only because of a sense of nostalgia. Looking back, Zhan Yan chuckled, I will not live up to my lovesickness in my life. I only have feelings for you, Zhan Yan recalled. The whole city is a warm and smiling pear vortex. I just want you to look back once and see my affection.

If my belt widens gradually, I will not regret it. It's worth getting tired for my coquetry.

How much I missed, and how much I missed.

Sadness in spring and autumn is better than singing, and singing in spring and autumn is sadness.

Missing is the wind without direction, which blows away the traces of years. Messy dance steps, through the long seasons, nirvana into poetry in warm days. Even if we can't depend on each other closely, we look forward to the opportunity to get close to each other. The footsteps drifting away, the hurt feelings inch by inch, measure a kind of sadness called distance in the exhausted gap between heart and heart.

Sadness, whose piano music softened into a Qian Qian knot? The moon falls and the crow falls. Whose wind and frost have been sung for thousands of years? When a smile provokes infatuation, it is doomed to go through a thousand years in the world of mortals. Tonight, I got drunk in my past life for no reason. Deep in the lotus root, Liuan, misty rain terrace is still a Wang Yang.

It is said that acacia is not sad, why are the ends of the earth not together? At that time, I was extremely clever, difficult to understand fate, too late to regret, and I couldn't return to acacia, and the Millennium expectation turned to dust. Don't look back, it is always a flashy dream, and the ancient songs are still heartbroken, so there is no sadness. The world of mortals is full of different meanings, but it is hard to understand and unforgettable. Tears seep into your clothes. What I think most is that if I am young and frivolous, I will feel very hurt and cry … what should I do if I don't know?

, three cups of two glasses of wine, how can you beat him, the night breeze is nasty? Guo Yan is very sad, but this is an old acquaintance.

Don't get carried away, the curtain rolls west wind, and people are thinner than yellow flowers.

Who is wandering around the buildings, who is waiting by the ancient road. Looking back on the Millennium, one hundred years of loneliness. Lonely who accompany, lonely who * * *. Past life's brush shoulder, this life's meeting. Love flies in the wind and loves to play in the rain. Once wishful thinking, once infatuated, woke up with the wind. At this moment: love is silent, love is silent. Tears moistened my eyes and filled my heart.

It didn't pass through Qian Fan, but it was full of water.

How much sadness can you have? Like a river flowing eastward.

You don't know that I miss you because you don't love me. I love you, even though I know you don't want me because I'm stupid. Maybe sometimes, escape is not because of fear of facing something, but because of waiting for something.

A melody is whispering, and joys and sorrows are separated from each other. With a touch of vicissitudes, the sleeves are full of fragrance, and the secular feelings disappear without a trace. Dancing through your fingers, falling into a busy life, playing a romantic and sad song. A bright moon, carrying a wisp of breeze, passes through the Millennium dust. Lonely fingers slip through the sadness of the soul, and how much affection is left. How many smiles and tears are flying in the sky, suddenly looking back, a daze dream, dedicated to tenderness and poetry all my life, but I have already lost you in the melancholy review.

Passing clouds are scattered with the wind, and jindingsong. On-off, on-off, on-off love in the world is fruitless. All my thoughts fade away, and I only admire the monks in the world. I Buddha has compassion to save suffering, and I am willing to cross all beings in an empty door.

... class =' class1' > blushing lips, wanting to say goodbye, whispering softly, leaving people with a flat pen, drunk, only falling flowers can be picked, a few lights can be lit, a lazy night, lingering past lives, weathered broken plums, rubbing blue windows, shaking folding fans, steaming pillows with blue and white flowers, a roll of curtains, worrying about years ...

With a flick of a finger, I sing songs and dust, and my thoughts are thin; Striking the strings, like a slender wind, who do you miss? The feelings around the fingers and the attachment of life have interpreted the homesickness year after year in the sound of pipa and piano; Love is deep, loneliness is hard to hide, and whispers in my ears are like sighs when flowers fall; Love is endless, and everyone will feel pity when they are lonely all their lives, spreading silently in the hazy air; The flood of running water, with all the breeze, dyed the writing paper white.

Look, who is sitting under the bodhi tree, counting the flowers falling on the curtains after the season. Soft whispers, rustling sighs, mumbling acacia, charming the enchanting youth of rouge. Listen, who is playing the sad chord in the world of mortals? Who is it, indulging in the misty rain and the world of mortals, writing all the human customs, a Tang poem, a Song poem, and a flute lingering fragrance, which made me nostalgic in previous lives.

At the moment, I miss you, but I have already missed you.

No matter how much you tell people you don't know, it's all nonsense.

A mountain can't be separated by two lovesickness, and a horizon can't be separated by two words of silence. I miss you with my life, drinking that bowl of dream soup alone, burying myself in the bones of the mountain, listening to the trickle, and the breeze dancing with the fallen flowers! Listening to the wind, I can't finish reading the thoughts of my life, and running water can't finish reading the love of my world.