Crying the spring drizzle and holding the peach red

He comes from the horizon, and I wait for him to emerge from the branches. It's not that the wind doesn't meet, the heart of spring is as moist as crisp.

She is the boudoir of Yuanzhong, and I am looking for her in Wuling. It's not that the wind doesn't meet, the heart of spring cannot be shackles.

People say that those who have love and pity in their hearts have different moods in spring. Du Mu of the Tang Dynasty loved spring, "Thousands of miles away, the orioles are singing and the green is reflected in red." Spring is approaching with the singing of birds, and all the emotions are reflected in the smoke of the building. Lu Zugao Xichun of the Song Dynasty said that "the moon is sad in the cage" and "the luan distinguishes the shadow", and the slightest drizzle is the sorrow of the wanderer's farewell.

A drizzle brings the wind, and the branches are full of love and bloom in spring red. The flowers bloom lingeringly, and a song is written briefly about the longing. The poems and notes are warm and cold, and contain only the fleeting years of desire. You are meditating in the words, while Bai Chu and I are guarding the city. Every bit and every stroke is a lovesickness, and the slightest lift and frustration are in love with each other.

The wind is blowing the willows, the moon is under the door, the shadows are sparse in the eyes, and the flowers are hugging people.

The rain is pouring over the crops, and the rainbow is shining on the water. Ripples holding hands, walking in Xianghui.

The drizzle has the sound of lameness and nostalgia, and the chewing is the euphemism of "The Book of Songs·Ye Feng·Gu Feng": "Get used to the valley wind, use the shade to rain. The strides encourage one heart, and it is not suitable to be angry. Pick. "Feng Caifei, there is no such thing as bad, and there is no violation of the virtues, and we will die together with you."

The budding peach calyx is a beauty in the wind and rain, and I feel wistful in my heart: It is a love song that can only be heard close to the chest: "The wind and rain are miserable, the cock crows and crows. When I see a gentleman, I will not be confused." Yi. The wind and rain are blowing, and the rooster crows. When I see a gentleman, the clouds will not fade ("The Book of Songs: Wind and Rain").

I hid in the "Crystal Palace" to have a glimpse of the world. "Mountains are one step away, water is one step away, and I am walking towards the bank of Yuguan. It is deep in the night and thousands of tents are lit. The wind is changing and the snow is changing. , The dream of broken hometown cannot be realized, there is no such sound in the hometown (Nalan Xingde, "Long Love").

Taohong hid me in the "Hua'an" to cultivate my body. "The bun is loosely tied, the plum blossoms are lightly made up, and the green smoke is light and green ("Moon on the West River" by Sima Guang of the Song Dynasty)" . "The branches are full of red, and the branches are full of green. I am tired of the late rain and get up late. The shadows of flowers in the leisurely garden are moving. ("Longing for Love" by Feng Yansi of the Tang Dynasty). “If you don’t know how to miss lovesickness, if you learn how to think about it, you will suffer from lovesickness ("The Romance of the West Chamber").

Spring dreams are stacked on top of each other, and the Zen spirit is still strong, "But we know each other once we have met, and it is better to see each other than when we never saw each other (Tsangyang Gyatso)."

Cold smoke drips green, candles The shadow shakes red. Keep a romantic picture of the breeze, hooking the threads, and weaving the fabric like the lingering water and wind. Light the lamp of your heart and light up the moonlit night on the spring river.

The warm breeze contains the beauty, and the gentle years. Create a sentimental sculpture of me in you and you in me, until the end of time; I will sow my thoughts, and be harmonious in the vicissitudes of the sea.

Lightly fragrant flowing water, leaving only verdant warmth.

Holding hands and smiling, don’t ask what night it is.

Some people say that spring is in Lanting. Each stroke is filled with the seeds of spring, and flowers bloom for thousands of years. I look at the fragrance of the spring flowers, full of fragrance, intoxicated by the sun and moon.

The green willows are new, the mountains and wine flags are in the wind, who knows that poetry is still the beauty of spring?

Flowers and rain come together in spring, and you and Nong are in the same year, what more can you ask for?

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