Who stops outside the pavilion, listening to the sound of wind and rain; who hesitates by the ancient road, listening to the shengjiao Yang. The morning beads fell flowers, wrapped in thoughts. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world.
A river of smoke and rain, weak water, three thousand. Just for a glance, this shore, the other shore, keep each other **** ferry. Are you listening? Softly murmuring, gently sighing, Ying Ying Iren tears, hurt who hearts. Across a long distance from the mountains and water, tiny red dust, trekking in the miserable wind, in the bitter rain in pursuit.
This three-life love affair, in the wind slowly in love, that look back to the tenderness of the smile, into the brow of the song of thoughts. I hope that we will never forget each other and look forward to the end of the world and the end of the sea.
Deep in the pear blossom, willow bank, who is singing the ancient tune, who, in the morning sun will be years to look through, and who, in the evening sun will be the autumn water look off. Who's tears like dew, condensed in the eyes do not fall; who's heart like a green lotus, swaying a pool of red.
The foggy ferry, bamboo shadow mottled, blurred your smiling face. The three lifetimes of dust and smoke, in the loneliness of the spring and fall rotation. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty.
Walked through the spring flowers, walked through the autumn moon, dreaming of neon dance, dreaming of flowers outside the drift, thinking of the heart, eventually nirvana into poetry. A piece of paper, the ink curls, the book is not finished, the past life of this life of attachment. A song of Sanskrit, ethereal and pure, singing, the past as clouds. Look at the night sky, the moon like a hook, quietly through the ten thousand feet of empty space. The first thing you need to do is to look at the world and see how much of the love affair is not over, how much of the tear rain flying flowers, and then look back, the fate of the world is like a dream dream like smoke.
A whole life is short, the love affair is long, ask the spring spring do not know, ask the flower flower speechless. The sun is setting, and the sky is full of red, not shining brightly on the return of the departed. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get a good deal on this. The first time I saw this, it was a very good time for me to go back to the office. Do you still remember? That year, under the window, the hand grinding inkstone, pen for pole. Turn around a thousand years, forget it, forget that three lives before the dust, forget that year's smile, forget that year pear blossom like snow.
I am on this shore, silent in the wind and rain, forget about the spring and fall a few times. I don't know how many times the tide rises and falls. Fiddle a song, clear sound Yang, the sky flying flowers fall between the fingers. Singing a song, dreaming for a thousand years, the moon from the round lack of water from the flow. The water and the moon in the mirror, the dust and dreams of the floating life are far away, singing and whispering a few words, do not ask what year it is this evening. Dance alone in the red dust, the soul of the dream, a drunken millennium ......