Romantic and beautiful love letter model essay: enjoy spring with you.

Romantic and beautiful love letter model essay: enjoy spring with you.

A thousand red clouds and irreversible time cherish each other. Whose song, borrowed from the floating clouds, fell on the earth, crystal clear into rain. How many spiritual wings are broken in the poem. It must know that your dreams can also fly, but the dreams of teenagers will never overlap with those of girls who are in love with spring.

You write down a word from your soul and give me a moment of tenderness. I stepped from the sad winter snow into the vibrant spring. Hide your face and cry for the beauty and love abandoned by the poet. Your deepest loneliness comes from your talent, because all the sadness in life comes from happiness. And those who embrace each other with joy are more likely to be sad.

I can't read the honesty of your soul, so I don't have to face your loneliness or feel sorry for you. However, I misread your poem. I should have been silent, but I answered with a song. When I miss that sweet flower and trace it back to a snowy dream, where are you chasing an unreachable mirage?

Please forgive my honesty if I misunderstood your loneliness. I want to sit by your spring and draw a pair of bright eyes on a wet rice paper. Then, get drunk at the end of your world and spend a good time with the spring in front of you.

Second,

The world is still good, you are dependent. The world I copied in my poem is no deeper than your dream. Whether, there will always be a person in this world who can be awakened by your deep-buried memory in spring without your long journey. He is like a star in the vast starry sky, but he has gained deep peace because of the changes of years.

A tree grows naturally and looks forward to a better tomorrow. I carry a spring lantern, walk on the mirror of my soul, sit on the stars, and listen to the steady singing of birds. Your world, comforted by the rings, silently loves the lonely soul and is quietly happy. My starry sky, like a mermaid in the deep sea, looks for the only lighthouse everywhere and swims freely.

My world is so small that only my soul walks with me. The smoke and rainbow in my hometown are the stars of last night. Imagine a pair of white wings that can lead them to fly. Imagine that fleeting poems will not be decorated by hurried light years, set out on time and fly high towards the doomsday sun.

Who has talked to the gods? At least I haven't been near them. I have been lost in a foreign land, witnessing the changes in reality, the law of the jungle, and cheating. Once beautiful, can't stand the cruelty of reality and disappear. In the old year, the lake floated like a blue boat, full of sorrows and sorrows of the world of mortals, sailing in the wind. Reach out and you can't rely on it anymore.

Is there a beam of light that can light up my night and turn my world into day? Is there a kind of love in my world, eternal, silent and joyful? Walking poets rarely look back, just like their former residence, which will become a vague mark in your life sooner or later. When you go to a city, the next stop is the past. When you cling to eternal time, the joys and sorrows you shake off will not be shorter than a tear.

Third,

A lonely lake can't anchor a pair of soulless paddles. Vast memories, trudging through the storm, bring the homeless with amnesia back to reality from their dreams. In my April, Manglietia flowers bloom everywhere. Is the title page of your soul covered with tears in my dream and wet the words I wrote to you?

The wind at dawn brings the message of spring. Every flowering ceremony is a dying beauty. How many people write lonely spring poems, but they can't keep more joy, only a touch of sadness. And in this world, how many people can quietly listen to the joys and sorrows of the soul? I would like to live in the fragrant soul of a flower and look forward to the grand ceremony in the coming year and the eternity in an instant.

The signposts of life all point to the past. Your eyes, through the lost dream, returned to the damp last night from a poem that rained. Every star embraces a lost soul. Every sunset, I am looking for my own star.

How lonely the cold world is, how crowded my life is. Who collected the bright flame from the poet, buried the ashes of my soul in the next year's poems, and projected my heart? I firmly believe that peach blossom is a poem of spring, and it will turn red, which is called leading edge. I only hope that more moonlight and star lanterns can light up the only light at night for me.

If you call time life, then years of sadness will live in an empty Yuan Ye. How hurried your steps are, how monotonous your life will be. The lotus flower you painted in your poem has grown into a lovely and beautiful appearance. My love, however, has been ground into a rosy blush on your cheeks for a long time, turning attachment into a cigarette in the world and dissipating with the wind.

Fourth,

The smoke from the kitchen in my hometown caressed the world, in exchange for a cup of fragrant words. The old friends who returned home, with many years of good memories, planted their nostalgia and hope for their hometown in the ribs of the night, and sang the unswerving chapter of this life in the never-ending light. I saw my shadow, together with my poems, turned into smoke from my hometown and planted a front in my former residence in this life.

I love moonlight and all the paranoid beauty. When the day disappears, you come into my world with bright fireworks. Whether the fate of people who meet by chance is a charming word, holding the wasted years and crying. My dream is never far away, but your dream is too far away from me. How can I kiss your dream and hug you in your dream?

If time has not gone far, will those sleepy waves flow in each other's hearts? The vast starry sky, rolling up the dust and sand of the former residence, can't say a word. You are fascinated by the poems in your dreams, but you never let the realistic poems grow in your spring. Where will those poems that are not in full bloom hibernate?

The aphasia patient in the wind limped away in the dark with a lantern in his hand. I hold myself tight and give my soul. You know, I have been living in a dreamlike dream, following the footsteps of spring, hoping for a sunny day. It's just that you promised me a sunny day, but it didn't come true I can only spread a piece of brocade rust and draw an eternal sunny day for myself.

Romantic and beautiful love letter model essay: Meeting you at the Red Dust Ferry

Romantic and beautiful love letter model essay: When I meet you at the Red Dust Ferry, the moonlight is fragrant, the night of lovesickness is lonely and long, the quiet under the moon and the strong tea fragrance are more poetic. My heart blooms quietly in the shallow moonlight. Sitting lazily in front of the porch window, a touch of gentle moonlight permeates the bookcase, and a curtain silhouette is beautiful in the quiet night. Sitting in the silence of music, holding up the pen and ink, smelling the fragrance, tasting the tea, the warm taste rippled inside, and the fragrance of jasmine spread to every inch of skin along the veins. The gentle melody permeates the fragrance of words, reaches the soul, recites in the pen, slowly and continuously, like pure spring water overflowing paper notes. In this way, you are quietly enjoying yourself in the depths of time, thinking about your feelings lightly, and writing down a landscape, a feeling, a thoughtful word and a caring heart. Can you feel it?

Facing the west window, watch the moon set and listen to the wind sliding through the eaves. At that time, my heart was still, so quiet that I could hear my heartbeat and the commotion of blood flow. Miss you, in this quiet winter night; Miss you, in this lingering moonlight. Sitting in the quiet moonlight, you deliver the affectionate words to the words, stretch them in your pen with the fragrant ink of your thoughts, and read your thoughts gently in the quiet night. Missing, like a free-walking flower, will raise a warmth from the bottom of my heart, such as sitting around a red stove, thinking of your name inexplicably, mumbling, and my heart will be hot. Open the fragrant petals on strangers and turn them into the moon in the sky, sending you warmth and driving away fatigue.

Thousands of miles of smoke, suddenly looking back, how many lingering thoughts are gently shed around the vine and moonlight, entangled in clarity and transparency. Fate, over the mountains and over the water to the stupa, meet in this life, it is the most beautiful, blooming for a season, warm to tears. Misty rain and red dust, you are on the other side, and I am on this side, painting a landscape and planting a curtain dream. The lingering love flutters like wings and falls into your palm. You care, cherish and put it in my heart. The soft heart stayed in the middle of coolness, and I painted it again and again in my heart. It became the mountain and water in my heart. No matter how far the road is, it is only close at hand. Qing Huan fleeting time, graceful brow, peaceful smile, boiled, rice paper as evidence, pen and ink as evidence, a piece of paper is fragrant.

The clock ticks, and time passes by, without expression, delay or worry. The most beautiful time is the fragrance blooming in the eyebrows, a flower filled with fragrance in the wind, pure and elegant white, dancing with the flowing wind. A window is full of affection, reading gently, fading out a touch of poetry in the thin shadow, spreading gently, folding quietly, expressing a word, splashing a rhyme, loving the ideal city and being gentle. Turn your thoughts into a trickle, flowing in words; Turn thousands of feelings into thousands of stars and decorate the moonlight in the night sky. In the quiet night, only the missing heart is still beating with joy, and I don't know if it is sleepy. Let the fragrance of tea curl up, the house is full of fragrance, and my heart is gentle in the depths of the text, because there is you, me and love here.

Years are short and time is long. The heart has a Qian Qian knot, which crosses the outline of time and space, spreads out the simple notes of memory and picks up the bits and pieces of life. All my life, there is a little red smile on the stone steps of fate. Thousands of miles apart, this is and heaven remains our neighbourhood. It's a thousand miles away, and the hearts meet. The sun is shining and the flowers are blooming in spring. Heart and heart, embracing love in the depth of time, turn into the rhythm of heart pulse and the whisper of wind, slowly spin up a quiet dream, brush away your heart dust as soon as possible, delicate fragrance, the fate of life, bloom gorgeous flowers, and overflow your fragrance shallowly. When I meet a warm current, the cold airflow is also filled with the breath of spring, warm, warm and quiet. Words fall to the heart, still a clear spring, flowing slowly, quietly, but the most affectionate. Get up the courage and stay together. The time moved by ink is elegant and charming. Let the soul calm down in the depths of the soul and let the soul have a refuge home.

Time flies, time flies. How many ribbons are light at the fingertips; How many years, flowing in the pen; How much prosperity, after the flowers bloom and fall, is still prosperous; Fireworks world of mortals, there is a you, willing to stop chasing for me, meet me, bathe in the fleeting moonlight dew, and turn a heart into a song. Send the thread in your heart to the palm of the years, stare at it, and draw the broken thoughts in your heart under the most beautiful pen tip. In this life, I will only be the only stumbling block in your heart, treat the moon with a simple heart, treat you with tenderness, listen to a style of whispering in time, let me write poems and paintings in your palm and have sex with you. You make me happy all my life, and I make you warm all my life.

How many flowers bloom, how many seasons fall, time unconsciously, wrapped around the years, we shuttle through them, come and go, in and out. With the green of spring, the warmth of summer, the golden color of autumn and the coolness of winter. You can definitely find your own sky. With a warm smile, I am grateful for an encounter and moisten my fingertips. The days that accompany us are also wonderful in life. Let the ink feelings flow with the initial touch and miss the heart on the other side of this shore. Feelings, years old, you are okay, I am still. Some predestined fates will always meet at the doomed world of mortals ferry. Come or not; See, or not see, all in that love, warm all the vicissitudes of life. Let all the happiness and tranquility bloom into crimson poetry, a fleeting whisper, a clear glass feeling, a warm heart, and then a fragrant heart.

Missing someone is a sweet hope, rendering the deep feeling like the sea, and the words of missing are free in my heart. I can't hold hands, but I feel tenderness. I can't see your face, but I can feel your smiling face. Dreams are like cicadas and colored glasses, and the colorful world is bathed in romantic feelings; Between the mountains and rivers of fate, the piano is playing beautifully; In the change of seasons, considering the encounter of wine, there is a mellow brewing, an intoxicated waiting, not too late to go to an eternal country dream. I am willing to follow my heart, and time will last forever. Allow me to be calm in a pure and clear world, waiting for the years to cut out a piece of beauty for me and weave a pair of beautiful years.

Romantic and aesthetic love letter model essay: the softest time with you

Romantic and beautiful love letter model essay: The softest time with you is like a trade wind, kissing a passionate season again. Summer is like sowing, sowing another kind of green. Summer is like a mission to make the flowers given by spring mature. I like this time, bright and poetic. Just like the past spring, so many flowers are scheduled to bloom together, emitting a suitable fragrance and intoxicating. Listening to the twittering of insects and birds, sucking the fragrance of blooming flowers and falling flowers, quietly tasting the mixed taste of life, gentle and quiet in early summer, a fresh and free and easy happiness, and a faint spread. In the most beautiful time in the world, all the lush life grows in the warm sunshine, all the flowers are competing for each other, and all the encounters are full of warmth.

In the quiet night, the moonlight is as soft as water, floating out of the window and shining on my bed curtain. Suddenly, the room added tenderness and romance, and the space for daydreaming was much larger. Sitting quietly in the arms of the night, I stay in the desire to miss you, and you stand in my thoughts. The wind is flowing, and I hold a handful of rose petals in my palm in the wind, so that colorful and delicate colors dye your sky and my sky, and thinking about the scenery of distant streets makes people feel kind. I am eager to breathe the same air as you and see the scenery you see every day. That kind of attachment, that kind of care, gave birth to a smiling rose, swaying flowers in the landscape with my thoughts, hovering around you, making my thoughts the most beautiful scenery.

Holding fragrant tea, fragrant tea is full of peace. I will cook your figure in green tea, savor the taste of tea, care about it carefully, walk through the branches of the years, plant a lifetime of affection, and plant a lifetime of waiting for you. Love will eventually fall from Chun Xue to the dust, and then a flower will bloom in the dust. Don't wear this flower of love on your chest. Immortal fragrance. When the years dry up its gorgeous face, what remains is the most boundless depth. Walking quietly in the kingdom of words, a romantic piece of paper records the meeting of 3 thousand poems, full of glass. Every warm-hearted word and every warm-hearted chapter has an unforgettable story. Use the flowing color of life, lightly paint a touch of rose color, and gradually flatten the poetry of flowers into a poem.

A bay of bright moon hangs in the sky, adding a touch of silver streamer to the hazy night. The warm picture scroll unfolds slowly, and the warm past is an eternal memory. Every wisp of tea fragrance, every lonely flower, is my love flying. The moonlight is like the sea, projected on the heart waves, rippling, deeply drunk, and unknown thoughts around the eyes. At this time, silence is better than sound, so how to entangle and trickle into the heart. Pour a glass of Qiu Si, drink a little drunk at night, drink downwind fans, and drink the charming eyebrows when I miss you. Everything is destined to be reunited after a long separation. It is a witness that love grows together with time, and it is covered by the fragrance of jasmine, which will be unforgettable at a glance.

Moonlight is like water, gentle and sweet, and the endless horizon is picturesque. Looking back, I smiled into a happy flower, and my brow was as tender as water. The thoughts of the morning bell and the evening drum shuttle between the clouds, shaking the glass quietly and beautifully, stopping, lingering in the sky, leaning against the railing with the beauty of fragrance, and letting the moonlight kiss the glass to open my mind. On the other side of this shore, I miss my heart In the depths of fleeting time, water flows forever. Your love for me is as warm as spring breeze, as crazy as summer rain, as stubborn as autumn flowers and as fragrant as cold plum. You know my loneliness when the flowers fall, you know the tears in my eyes, and you know my eternal love. A heart flower, supported by two hearts, and a piece of ink rain. This understanding is compassion, the beauty of life and death, and the beauty of success.

In a gentle time and a simple day, I will pick a bonus and a piece of spring scenery, take it home and put it in a bottle. I hope the flowers are pleasant and intoxicate my soul. Let me protect this spring flower with tenderness. Reciting a farewell book of time, one line at a time, one shallow and one deep, and intricate lines embroider a screen of years. I have seen the most beautiful sunset red, misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, the deep path of falling red, the time of staying at the old threshold of acquaintance, full of thoughts, and continued to write a paragraph of sun and moon holding hands, writing light and shadow, rippling, walking through the customs. Shallow words, faint ink, people are at the end of the world, and the heart is close at hand. You are my hometown that I care about all my life. You are my inexhaustible tenderness, which brings you charm and dust.

Flowers are enchanting, and the fragrance is filled with affection. Reading is like a flower, like a heart, and it is warm and flowing. Sweep the thoughts of spring breeze into summer. That is your subtle reminder, extending the time through your inner tenderness. Or, take a pink peach blossom and dive into a dark dream on a summer night. Quiet and beautiful years bear the red notes of acacia, years write eternity, let sincere voices flow in the pen, and plain words spread gently. A warm and fragrant love affair, gentle attachment to each other all my life, lingering feelings in intoxicating laughter, moisten my heart and intoxicating touch. Qingqing jumps from me, lingering in my heart, only for the princess, missing each other to this day. Words are fleeting, and you are the love of my life. The heart is there, the dream is there, love is there, love is eternal, and love in the heart is sunny!

Cut a soft time, plant a fragrant heart, and in that little smile, the flowers I miss will bloom. Then, in a silent embrace, I count the bits and pieces left by the years. The red ones are not only petals, but also the warmth I cherish. Perhaps, in this life, all the waiting is just for an eternal promise; Perhaps, in this life, all feelings are just for a look back. What brushed my heart was not only the petals falling red, but also a touch of warmth. Since then, the days have been cut into sections, each section is related to you, and there will be thoughts, which will cross the threshold of time and space and quietly fall into my immature heart.

Summer is not only a romantic season, but also a dream season. In my dream, I have your smile and my support; There are green wind shadows and flowers; There is clear water and bright light here. With your season, the heat of summer disappears; In your season, my thoughts fly in the romantic sky and sway in eternal articles.

The road is long, the water is far away, sometimes it is Ma Pingchuan, sometimes the mountains overlap, sometimes the breeze is bright, sometimes it is foggy. Along the way, you need warm care and nourishment, and you can go to the depths of the years according to the warmth, because the meeting of two people is a warm bloom. I have seen the world of mortals warm and cold, and I have enjoyed ten miles of spring flowers, and I have matured into a landscape with you.

Love is an ordinary life, which can be seen from its tears and laughter. They are so real and sad, so beautiful and cheerful. On the water bank, you came with a wisp of fragrance, and on the magpie bridge, I held a touch of purples and walked against the water. I know your heart, you love women, and I interpret a true and peaceful love, a plain and plain brocade life. Persisting in safety and warmth, brewing romance, falling into ink, and drunk the whole Jiangnan. Quiet is the warmth of flowers, pleasing to the eye is lethargy. Let's have a drink together, full moon and chrysanthemum hedge. Then, carefully put it down, like a cloud, worrying about a tree flower, as big as a mountain and a water, a river and a river; As small as a porridge and a meal, a bed. Never tired of meeting each other, but never tired of meeting each other.

Romantic and beautiful love letter model essay: flowers bloom for you

Romantic and beautiful love letter model essay: flowers bloom for you. The night is hazy, the moonlight is full, the curtains are fluttering, and the heart is blowing gently. You can reach out through the dust and face the soul silently. Look at the pulse, the lights on the other side, stick to your posture and never change. Fingers lightly tap the keyboard, and the crisp sound collides in the space, listening to the words under the fingers, and silently taking them out to recall in the dead of night, which is somewhat cool; A little warm; A little worried; A little sad. I made a cup of coffee, and the aroma of coffee suddenly spread, as if floating into my heart, and a feeling came to me. At this moment, I miss you.

Time is shallow, and the years are safe. Meeting you made me understand the beauty of the scenery, and writing is my yearning. Beautiful meeting, beautiful past. Because of you, my world is full of vitality; Because of you, my world has a wonderful romantic picture; Because of you, my world is thriving, full of green. In my heart, the sun is shining; The days of love are full of lush eyes. Grateful for fate, grateful for all the beautiful encounters. Warm nature is long-lasting, and every day is soft and good. I am here, because you are here, there are always unexpected appointments coming quietly, there are always silent blessings for you, and there is always happiness to accompany you.

Write that time flies, the mountains are blue, the water is clear, and there is no contract. The heart leads you and me to meet in the vast sea of people, and the mask of human nature has faded. We interpret life with true love, understand each other in the scattered years, dry each other, lean on each other, and pour out our hearts in boundless words. The fusion of heart and heart is better than a thousand words in the world; The intimate relationship between soul and soul has withstood any difficulties and obstacles. Let me see, there is an encounter, not on the road, but in my heart, and there is a scenery, not far away, but in my heart. Flowers bloom and fall in poetic rhyme, and the moon is full of reincarnation. Harmony of mind is the highest state of love. Across Qian Shan, we can feel each other's heartbeats, but we can touch each other's temperatures across Qian Shan. I believe that the magic and mystery caused by love are eternal.

All the feelings in the world are because of the beauty of love at first sight. You came to my dream and I lived in your heart. Even if time changes, traces, such as the delicate fragrance bred in the depths of the soul, will not dissipate with the smoke. It has long been sealed in my heart, and even if the wind and rain hit, it will not leave. I believe that every season, there will always be a beautiful flower, like a butterfly, with a wisp of fragrance, appearing at the intersection of life. Reaching out and touching the words in the spring, the golden light shines on my heart, feeling warm and intoxicating. A love melts into the gentleness of poetry, a blush that knows how to melt into love, dribs and drabs, and threads into ink. Think about it, there are long and short. Dream poetry warms paper painting, poetry grows fragrant and dreams for thousands of years.

The meeting of pen ends makes the time on paper wonderful, and the edge of flowers falls on my poem. The first love bloomed between the lines, and two similar souls held hands, stunned by the time between their fingers. Settle down in the flowering season, let the mood soak in the fragrance of meeting, let the time be green and red, and only inject deep affection into the eternity of poetry and dreams. The moon is full and people are round, flowers bloom and fall, and acacia writes poems online. I think, at this moment, you may be sleeping in the curtain of your dream, enjoying the sweetness of flying flowers in your dream. And I just want to use some simple and penetrating words to turn my heart into a sentence. My heart is soft and can sing endless thoughts. Love the whole city, love the whole city, get their hands on the fleeting time, fireworks, thoughts flying, Qian Qian's simple language, looking forward to a harmonica.

Looking at the stars all over the sky, the moonlight gently falls on the window, as clear, quiet and beautiful as water, and the moonlight gently dances and turns outside the window. My thoughts pass through the veil of the night, a soft flute haunts the night sky, and those messy thoughts and fragrances spread between the lines, putting those gentle times in a level tone, flowing those shallow words in ink and wash, and hiding your gentleness in the fragrance of Zen. There is a touch of bitterness and a warm taste. Through the distance, we have gone through one journey after another. There is a kind of meeting, among thousands of people, there is only one eye, and that is the reunion of eyes; It is the dependence of heart and heart. A flower, a feeling, passes through the corridor of the season and turns into a faint fragrance, enchanting every morning and evening, fragrant as water, and beautiful fingertip years. You are a beautiful poem, a silent word and a slow time. You are a painting, a feeling, a love that penetrates everything.

Years of smiles, with a flick of a finger, write you into my dreams with your light footsteps and the most affectionate brushstrokes, and write the most beautiful and touching melody and chapter of life with my life watch. I miss you as I used to, and I dreamed of a few deep feelings. I have a quiet and clear central lake. I am alone in thousands of mountains and rivers, so that the missing flowers are slightly fragrant in the breeze, and the warm feelings are gently dependent in the depths of my heart. Let the words soothe the pale soul and let the beauty of meeting bloom quietly in the bottom of my heart. With a faint scent of heart, I feel the gentleness of the breeze, the time when the plants are dependent on each other, like the spring scenery in a full-hearted love, which is neither right nor flattering, warming the distance between papers and perfuming the tacit understanding between flowers.

? The communication between feelings is not the moment of meeting, but the eternal communication. The closeness of heart to heart lies not in distance, but in the touch of heart. If the heart knows each other, it can be tacit, without words, and if the feelings melt, it can wait for a long time without commitment. With a pen full of affection, I will engrave you in a dream and sing the old tune of that year. You have touched me so much in my life. The delusion buried in the depths of memory across the mountains and waters is still clear, shallow, clear and beautiful in the red, fat and green season. In the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, grace and grace become nature. Boil water for a period of time, weave flowers of a tree, wait at dusk, and never give up; I have been gentle all my life, and I love you all my life.

Miss, always grow in the dark, lush. You will always be the song in my heart, the poem in my ink, and the deepest arrival in my dream. Life is a passer-by, but if I can meet you, I won't waste it any more. Because of you, I imagine your city, the young Jiangnan, shining with fairy-tale ripples, water and mountains, tenderness and confusion, smoke and clouds, and flowers burning. Let it sing softly in the tunnel of time and spread luxuriously in the long river of life. Tonight, with that cup of moonlight, I will give you boundless warmth, drive away the cold of the years and stay with you quietly in my heart. Not to mention how long it will take, I will only spread acacia everywhere. Only you can understand, hold the pen, and only you are thinking, telling loneliness and boundless romance, so I will chew our vows and write eternal love for a warm life.

After years of smiling, you have left a yearning, shining with the warmth of love, carving your name in your heart, waiting for the blooming smile, waiting for you thousands of miles away, and ferrying warm words. Then, hold your hand and walk through the sun, the moon and the wind. Even if time is wasted, I would like to be the one who kills time and goes home. In the eyes of time, I wrote down the years when I fell in love with you. In the world of mortals, there is a tacit understanding called "heart to heart", a yearning called "dreaming" and a long-lasting feeling called "never forgetting what has been lost, twisting the moon into poetry" Let me accompany you through the faint red dust of a month's distance. Let the cold go a long way and let the youth grow old. Take a wisp of breeze as a pen, condense a drop of flower dew into ink, and write down the fine print like water. Fold a song of acacia, dream through a curtain, melodious and touching, affectionate and gentle.