Purple and red dust, plants and trees are all their lives. When you walk through the dreamlike past, you will always think of your beautiful face. The gentle wind passes through the south of the Yangtze River, allowing the colorful flowers to bloom everywhere. What gradually disappeared into the streets of time is the reluctance of a flower or the nostalgia of a leaf...
Time steps are covered with moss. In the faint fragrance, Ruoshui's feelings are condensed, and ancient dreams are graceful. Who is coming from the setting sun, wearing a shoulder of autumn colors, carrying a glance of autumn water, and carrying three thousand prosperity. A clear smile spread across the 100,000 mountains, a faint vicissitudes, a crescent moon floating in the sky...
Flip the letter of the sun and the moon, the light and shadow of the four seasons are colorful, and the vivid brocade of the passing years is weaving. I still remember that when spring was in full bloom, the encounter of pear blossoms like snow, which once stunned the time when birds were singing and flowers, beautified the waiting by the misty lake, and fulfilled the expectations of past and present life...
White clouds floated past the window, and the breeze brought the fragrance of flowers. With the warmth of love, no longer lonely at the cold night, and with the season of light, dreams no longer wander. In the charm of the passing years, there is the tenderness of the spring breeze of ten miles, the graceful elegance of the summer lotus, the brightness of the autumn water and the long sky, and the distant fishing for the snow in the river...
days are simple, quiet and happy, and life is gentle and gentle. In the simple passing years, chant the wind, drunken the moon, hold hands with the world, lower your eyebrows and fireworks, boil tea in spring water, make wine in pine flowers, breeze and bright moon into your arms, and peach red Li Bai into the painting. There is no sadness of spring and sorrow of autumn, nor is there any sigh of separation. Everything is as light as the breeze, everything is quiet and beautiful...
Seasons migrate and flow, and their feelings are as bright as before. There are always unchanging promises when the flowers bloom and leaves fall. When spring comes, there are always infatuated waiting. In the bright moon and spring breeze, there are always gentle companions. In the heavy frost and dew, there are always sincere greetings. In the high mountains and rivers, there are always eternal blessings...
bathes the warm wind in the world, walks through the long years, the flowing water and time are filled with the agarwood of memory. In the red maple in late autumn, there is eternal attachment. In the fragrance of plants and trees, there is graceful brilliance. In the enchanting flowers, the joy of life is freely depicted. In the cycle of sun and moon, there is a silent love...
Time is like lotus, and the years are like Zen. The flowers bloom quietly, and the wind wanders gently. When the light and shadow fall, the wind will remember the fragrance of the flowers, and the flowers will remember the thoughts of the wind. Under the Bodhi tree, flowing water rolls across the corridor, and the days flow silently. What changes is the scenery in front of you, and what remains unchanged is the beautiful state of mind...
Flowers bloom silently, and leaves fall silently. The most beautiful scenery in the world always comes gently, leaves quietly, does not tell the sorrow of parting, does not talk about the return, and slowly implants into the heart of memory in silence. Perhaps, inadvertent looking back in the future, you will encounter that moving smile among the flowers...
A new song of wine, and a deep love intoxicated by the passing years. The world is like a painting, and the four seasons are full. In the faint fireworks, there is joy that cannot be quit and attachment that cannot be given up. Tea made by flowers, wine brewed by the moon, piano caressed by the wind, paintings of snow dancing, moist poems, and home of love are all the favors of the years and gifts of the passing years...
Flowers bloom into brocades, and snow becomes a lyrics. Every season has beautiful scenery, every year is the most beautiful lush, and every day has footprints of growth. At this moment, wandering in the gallery in late autumn, bathing in the warm sun, enjoying the clouds and clouds in the sky, drinking time lightly, drinking slowly in the wind, dancing forward with a smile, and drunken the passing years, is the most beautiful happiness in life...
