Don't write poems of ancient fairies.

Ordinary days have obliterated the charm of youth, and the flowing time has robbed the light of publicity, but those years like songs have honed women a little noble, refined, calm and calm.

I saw her wearing a light green dress with a string of pearls around her neck. Her face is white and tender, like cream, and it seems to drip. Her eyes are running and her eyebrows are slender. Her voice is soft and euphemistic, her expression is charming, her eyes are white and her skin is white and greasy. She is really a stunning beauty.

Her clothes are fluttering and her figure is light. I can only see that she is beautiful, beautiful and elegant, about seventeen or eighteen years old. There is a god in his eyes, eyebrows and nose are trimmed, and pear vortex appears slightly on his cheeks, which is tall and straight. The strong light reflected by the snow and ice on her face makes her skin crystal clear and soft as jade, but when I see her skin color is extremely white, her nose is usually higher than that of a woman, but her eyes are faintly blue.