Love, a song that goes straight to the heart

The distant journey is not the distance, but the state of mind. If the heart is tired, drink a cup of wine of the years, light as water; if the heart is bitter, twist a touch of the shadow of the wind, quiet as a flower; if the heart is drunk, listen to a song of sadness, vast as the moon. Used to silence, do not want to say more, perhaps words are too pale; used to sit alone, do not want to make noise, perhaps too much fickleness in the heart; used to traveling, do not want to be confined, perhaps the heart needs to be banished. Smile with your heart, let love become a song straight to the heart, let life eternal!

--Bashan Night Rain

Time, in fact, is a lonely walker. It, such as the camel bells in the desert, walking alone, no end; it, such as the rushing river, persistent and wordless, endless; it, such as the stars and the moon on the sky, lonely and proud of everything. The color of time is the most beautiful, simple white; the sentiment of time is the most true, quiet flow of deep; time of the heart, to the warmth and purity.

If time and loneliness meet, is the experience; if, time and life meet, is happiness; if, time and love meet, is wonderful!

Love, is a very mysterious thing, like a shadow. The moon rubbed into the messy heart, gently banished in the distant sky, such as rain like wandering; the footsteps rubbed into the wordless heart sadness, silently engraved in the years of waiting, such as flowers like blossom; love rubbed into the sky full of starlight, quietly euphemized into the Tang style Song lyrics, such as the water like flow of the deep.

Love, is a cup of years of wine, drunken heart; is a touch of wind, cool autumn; is a song of sadness, colorful life!

Love, is a difficult practice. Or happy or sad, is a baptism, a years of experience; or thick or light, is a touch of bloom, a touch of beautiful scenery; or far or near, is a kind of life, a kind of regretless choice. There is no need to explain, silent companion; no need to complain, put the heart light; no need to promise, slowly precipitation.

In fact, at the windy intersection, love is a kind of waiting; in the rainy streets, love is a kind of helpless; in the station of life, love is a ticket without return!

Love, is a silent beauty. Who murmured in the wind, will be full of heartbreak shallow explanation, pay with the autumn leaves; who gently choked in the late night, the unspeakable feelings spread, pay with the cold winter; and who is in the seashore silent singing, the years of sorrow banished, pay with the flowing water. Love is like the natural wind, is a bird song, is a leaf forest, is a rain; love is like the valiant wind, is the spinning of the fallen leaves, is inexplicable sadness, is the heart of the song; love is like the romantic wind, is persistent, is perseverance, is life!

Love, become a habit at the same time, it has been an integral part of our lives. Sometimes love is a kind of persistence, can travel through time, through the distance, through the heart; sometimes love is a kind of silence, it is engraved in the silence, in the silence in the clear, in the silence in the wonderful; more often love is a kind of power, it can let the time is beautiful, so that the years of perseverance, so that the life of eternity.

Love, change the habits of life, but it is difficult to change in the habit. Love, is a song that goes straight to the heart. (Responsibility: Deputy Editor)