Love lyric prose in heaven

You and I are destined to be on Sansheng River, and a boat will always be a passer-by on Forgotten River.

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Who can solve the desolation of fallen leaves, who can let the west wind blow away the eyebrows, how much hate, how many tears?

Looking back suddenly, your feelings are rippling in my heart. The originally peaceful life has become turbulent because of your arrival.

Jiangnan in poetry and painting has its own poetic meaning. Walking in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, I feel like a Taoist priest in Xianfu, with a clean and ethereal mind. The mountains and rivers in the south of the Yangtze River are psychic, and every grass and tree has feelings, and every flower and leaf always closes the meditation.

With a Buddhist heart, I walked to the south of the Yangtze River with beautiful scenery and walked while singing.

In the misty and rainy south of the Yangtze River, you walk in Wuyi Lane, Lian Bu with an umbrella in your hand, frowning and thinking of lotus flowers. I met you in the beautiful misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, and I solved the melancholy in your heart.

I took your hand, walked across the stone bridge in the south of the Yangtze River and wrote our most beautiful poems. Your beautiful silhouette in the sunset turns into endless happiness in my heart. I will row a boat and take you to the middle of the lake to see the scenery of the West Lake. You are a woman in Jiangnan, like a lotus flower. I'll read you "Lotus can be picked in the south of the Yangtze River, what about lotus leaves". You smiled and pushed me to the center of the waves that the birds had just passed. I wink at you and smile at you. If you want to sue, sue. Turn around and lower your eyebrows.

Willow is soft and hangs in the shade. I lean on you, look at the blue sky and white clouds, count the fleeting years and let the water flow. I kissed your shining forehead, and you pulled my hand tightly on your chest. At that moment, I want to hold your hand and grow old with my son. I make a Covenant with you and will never part.

On the moon, before the evening breeze invites flowers, I pluck the strings and you dance and sing. You hold the hidden moon in your hand and let the smell of flowers pervade your clothes. I want a drink, you drink. I gambled with you and knocked over my tea. When you swing, you smile back, and I am full of pride.

The rustling red rain closes the window, and I bury my pen and ink in the autumn night, adding fragrance to your tea. You looked at me wearily, I urged you to sleep, and you refused. You twisted your needle and thread and looked at me quietly, watching the candlelight drop by drop until dawn. The dew is cold and the frost is heavy. You put on clothes to warm me. I was deeply moved. I secretly shed tears and became happy.

I woke up in my dream, but I couldn't find you. An ordinary piece of paper, you were once elected king. From now on, I am a stranger to you. Alas, the world is desolate. I was predestined friends with you in my previous life, but I didn't have fireworks.

Looking back at the world of mortals, wandering around the Qinhuai River, the light and shadow have fallen, and the prosperity remains the same. A pipa whispers, and tears in my eyes can't help coming to my eyes. Warm wind makes tourists drunk, but the string of silk and bamboo remains the same. I am alone, like a lost swan, and I don't know who to look for.

I remembered it when I met you. Time makes me old, but it makes me melancholy. Wuyi Lane, I have never seen Wang Xietang's Qian Yan. Walking through the stone bridge that year, the spring waves under the sad bridge are green. I suspect that this is an amazing photo. Don't, don't, don't, I think you are a sunny and white-haired man, too. Yu Linling, urged by Lanzhou, I am a melancholy guest in the world.

Another year is orange-green, cherry-red and banana-green, but the streamer is easy to throw people away. I know what makes you cry. It's easy to die without that little dust. You and I are doomed to have no chance in this life. I just hope that if there is an afterlife, you won't be born in the back door. You are wearing a cloth, and I will spare no effort to heat you up. If there is an afterlife, you and I will sell wine, from ordinary to old. If there is an afterlife, I am a fish, and you are water, so don't forget each other.

If life is just the first time, I would like to turn into a stone bridge, just for you.