In spring, I like the word "lazy" best Under the peach and apricot trees, I slept until noon, a little sleepy and a little depressed. Open your eyes, it is a flower; Close your eyes, it's also a flower. This is a pink dream, like a spring girl, like Tang and Song Ci, which angered and eroded the letters. Writing a slow peach blossom, I like the word "slow", just like a peach blossom, which slowly blooms from the bones and passes through the warmth of the heart rain. Then, silk books, bamboo slips and rice paper are moved one by one, which are dense and dense. After rendering, there will be an aura.
Peach blossoms are "indiscriminate" and flood when spring comes. Wan Li Wan Li, north and south of the Yangtze River, with peach blossoms everywhere, is naturally the most romantic. This kind of romance is close to "Meng Lang" and seems to be closer to the word "S-curve". It feels like everyone has a peach blossom in their heart. It's really strange if spring comes and doesn't bloom in his heart. Peach blossoms are red and apricot flowers are white. In fact, peach blossoms are white and apricot flowers are red. From red to white, and then from white to red, life is just a desire. This desire just lingers between red and white. The white ones don't understand the hearts, and the red ones don't understand the white ones. When everyone understands, the flowers will wither. Give the color back to the years, it will be a pure lotus.
Maybe you will say, I am just a layman. In fact, vulgarity is elegance, and the realm of life is just watching the mountains and water; Seeing mountains is not mountains, and seeing water is not water; See mountains or mountains, see water or water. There is only a third realm, to see flowers or flowers, to see women or women. See clearly and understand thoroughly. A beauty is like a flower, a flower is like a beauty, and it is a fool not to love it. It is human nature to love beauty, and this nature cannot be erased. Seeing the beauty you like, your eyes are straight, your heart is beating, your soul is flying, and you can't hide it. It's natural. Blood and flesh, love and hate, this is the real life.
There is a story in Zen that an old woman provided for an ascetic monk. Years later, she wanted to try the realm of monasticism. Let her beautiful granddaughter hug him and ask him, "Do you feel anything?" The monk replied, "It's like holding a piece of wood and stone." The woman sighed and tried to kick him out. A few years later, the woman asked her granddaughter to try again, and the monk replied, "Wenxiang nephrite is flesh and blood." The highest state of Zen is not empty, but flesh and blood.
It's freezing, drizzling and thin in spring. A "transparent" word is worthy of that "gorgeous". Brilliant as a peach blossom, as transparent as a mirror, so women love it, and they can show as much as they can. What really can't be exposed is the concealment, concealment, temptation and amorous feelings like a stamen. That kind of concealment is fatal to men. A woman cannot live without love. Without love, no matter how gorgeous she is, she will wither Just like Zhang Ailing in her later years, she was just sitting still and suffering from Alzheimer's disease, no matter whether you were absolutely beautiful or fell in love with this country. Without love, beautiful women have to chant Buddhist scripture. If she can't blossom into a peach blossom, she must blossom into a lotus flower, otherwise it will be vulgar and hateful. Love, like religion, is a devout belief, which can take the soul to high places and high into the clouds. I like that kind of woman in the fog, but there are only two possibilities for such a woman to exist, one is love and the other is religion. Other than that, it's all dust.
Women's prose is beautiful, all made of water. I can't put it down every time I see it, and I am amazed. How I wish I could have a woman floating in the clouds like this, and the soul and flesh blend together, which is the real integrity. Women are natural works of art, so women have more poetic temperament and romantic feelings. Men exist only for appreciation and admiration. A woman without men's appreciation is like a flower without bees and butterflies. No matter how well it blooms, it is decadent and lifeless. There are thousands of women in Qian Qian in the world. They often think of themselves as totally pure lotus flowers, simple chrysanthemums, quiet orchids and arrogant plum blossoms, but in their bones, there is still a pink peach blossom and white apricot blossom. This spring flower is for love, because love can make people sublime. I don't even want to see it without sublimity.
There are many thin and cold women in the world who have lost their temperature and blood color. Such a woman is respectable. Because it is respectable and terrible. No matter how gorgeous brocade is, it is cold in your hand, and it is boring to cool it to the bone. Like a vase on the table, there are no flowers in it. That kind of loneliness, I'm afraid only women can feel. But the exquisite blue and white porcelain bottle refused to insert vulgar flowers. Pollution of the eyes is secondary, and pollution of the heart is more serious. Who is the peach blossom you hit? Who is your Jing Xuelian? Who is your idle chrysanthemum? Who is your thin man? But all this can be met but not sought. Empty is empty. Such a woman is noble. If we meet, we will be as low as flowers in the dust, just like Zhang Ailing. I love such a woman alone, because it is rare, so it is precious. Most women who love words are lonely, and this loneliness stems from the arrogance in her bones. I would rather keep this arrogance and loneliness all my life than stay in the dust for a minute and a half.
Women are like flowers, and flowers are like dreams. It is a woman's nature to love beauty. Most of women's words are peach blossoms. When they walk, they will fall into a peach garden, and flowers will bloom and fall. I like this feeling. Although I am neither Nalan nor Liu Yong, I naturally love reading women's words. Maybe I like love in women's words. I am a nobleman after all. The feeling of love is better than the love of flesh and blood, surpassing the average man. I don't like men and women who only know the love of flesh and blood. Women who write lyrics are more elegant, and it seems more accurate to use the word elegance. I am a human woman, and I only love her best. Romantic, elegant and romantic, that kind of delicate and charming, is even more moving. Such as peach blossom, dew, rain, Leng Yan, hidden, peerless elegance inadvertently revealed, bringing spiritual feelings, elegant and amazing.
Women's Day always talks about women, but my pen is clumsy and I am almost shy in front of women. No matter how beautiful, it is not as beautiful as a woman; No matter how gorgeous, it is not as gorgeous as a woman; Even the color is three points worse than that of women. Men always talk about women through a layer, just like scratching their boots, which makes people feel even worse. I think about it, but I'm a little lost. I hope I can't become a woman. I have a woman's natural beauty, a woman's seven-point smart and exquisite heart, and the charm and confusion of a gourmet woman goblin. Write a paragraph about women, so that the abbots, that is, monks sitting in the temple, are full of longing for love and never dream about it. Haha, isn't that a shemale? Put away your heart and be my macho man again! Winning the title of macho man is the proudest thing in my life. Far better than any master of prose, calligraphy, Buddhism and Zen. The world needs macho men most. Without macho men, women are raised as demons and mixed with the best. What's the point? Just like a martial arts expert who has been practicing hard for decades, he finally reached the realm of invincible hands in the world. When he went through the customs and went down the mountain, he suddenly found that the opponent he had hated all his life was long gone. I'm afraid he even wants to die.
It is a woman's responsibility to fascinate men; Similarly, it is also a man's unshirkable responsibility and obligation to fascinate women. This is called responsibility. In front of the shop under the house, someone buried a stone tablet, which read: "Mount Tai Shi Gandang." Li Qingzhao said: "Life is a hero, and death is a ghost hero." Some people say, "When the hibiscus is dead, it's romantic to be a ghost." Being bold and beautiful is the responsibility of a normal man. The hero's sadness about beauty is a kind of pride and a kind of free and easy. Ask women all over the world, who will fall in love with a man who has no blood, no meat and no heart? Maybe you will say firmly: "I love!" " I admire your courage, but I also congratulate you. The tragedy began. Compared with drama, the world loves to watch tragedies, especially women. A snot and a tear, like Sister Lin, a flower hoe and a poem "Burying a Flower", are more poetic and touching. But men's amorous feelings are also a disaster for women, far more than ruthless elegance. For example, Zhang Ailing met Hu Lancheng and Pan Jinlian met Ximen Qing. On the other hand, if Zhang Ailing hadn't met Hu Lancheng, she might have been an old maid all her life and didn't know what it was like to be a woman. If Pan Jinlian didn't meet Ximen Qing and followed Wu Dalang all his life and was treated coldly by Wu Erlang, where would he be happy? Since the creator created men and women, it is bound to produce rich and colorful affairs, otherwise what is the interest in this world? Far from being as simple as hermaphroditism, I am complete without desire or desire. Buddha said that marriage, the fruit of this life, is due to past reasons, karma and reincarnation. Men and women, don't think about anything, just follow the fate. Love when you should love, hate when you should hate, and jack shall have Jill, don't ask whether it is robbery or fate.
I like the prose that leans against the window and listens to the rain. The style is a bit like Xue Xiaochan, full of emotion, quite bookish, beautiful, clean and clear. Delicate taste is like a beautiful woman, that kind of fragrance emanates from the bones, with a touch of book fragrance, a touch of feminine fragrance, clear and elegant. Holding, watching, getting drunk slowly, I don't know how. Let's look at her "Peach Blossoms Now": "I will meet peach blossoms in spring, especially in the small town where I live. The peach blossom there blooms, and if you don't open your eyes, it enters your eyes. Ha ha! A little too much. It doesn't sound like a peach blossom, but rather like a demon with various customs, haunting you and attaching to you. Finally, peach blossoms, graceful and charming, are easy to capture spring. "
Accidentally bumped into a peach blossom and became a prisoner. The best is the word "inadvertently". Listening to the rain, what I like best is the word "haha". It is obviously a demon, with a book fragrance and a little pure and natural. A banshee similar to a peach blossom is laughing wildly and touching. Fortunately, I didn't see it, otherwise I would be accused of being a playboy.
I haven't read Xue Xiaochan's Peach Blossom, and I don't care about Zhang Ailing. I only know that Li is a woman who sprayed blood on a peach blossom fan, and I am indifferent to her love. As for the Tang Dynasty woman in Cui Hu's poems, she is just a village girl who doesn't read poetry books. It's indecent. I don't like it either. Think of the great poet Cui, who is also vulgar. He only loves flesh and blood. Maybe I was wrong. Only such women have never been contaminated with dust, but women will gradually grow up, uneducated and secular. Cui Hu just gave us an illusion. He created a scene. In a thousand years' time and space, he intercepted such a scene with no beginning and no end, leaving it for us to imagine. I used to like this freedom very much, and I also like village girls. Later I found out that I was really wrong. She can't read your poem. What you wrote, she used it to clean the table. Can you still afford peach blossoms? This misunderstanding, I interpret for the world, a bitter tear. Remember, a gifted scholar and a beautiful woman, don't be fooled by Cui Hu, or you will die very ugly.
Everyone has a peach blossom in his heart. Perhaps the only one, no matter how many times his body blooms, there is only one peach blossom in his heart. Some people are open for the first time in their lives, such as Zhang Ailing. Some people have been waiting all their lives, such as me. The flowering of the body and the flowering of the soul are completely different, so women always criticize men as lower-body animals, which I think is the reason. A woman can't let a man's soul bloom, at least it's a woman's failure. I long for a love in my life, which can make the peach blossom of my soul bloom brilliantly and never stop. This is a realm and a luxury. It is worthwhile to complete such a flower bloom, even if it fades in an instant-even if it is not in vain in this life. No wonder women always say this when they are in love: "I just want to die under you." Direct, straightforward, a little erotic, almost an idiot. I think it's a soul blooming. Otherwise, how could there be such nonsense?
Who knows peach blossoms? I don't think anyone understands. Because peach blossom belongs to love, love is an unsolved problem, a belief, and this mystery can only be solved by religion. When you become a Buddha, you will suddenly realize that it is so. You can only shut up and not say it, and it's wrong to say it. Haha, I didn't tell you so as not to let the cat out of the bag. It is difficult to draw the origin of Peach Blossom, Hu Lancheng and Tang Bohu, because they are flowers that bloom on the soul. As soon as it was put on the paper, it changed, became tacky, smelled like fireworks, and was no longer the peach blossom. The love between Hu and Zhang died in this way. Bao Daiai, isn't it? Their peach-blossom-like, cold-looking, passionate love was not drawn in the end, but was written in blood by Daiyu on an old handkerchief given by Baoyu.
Peach blossoms are actually a bit dazzling in people's hearts. With peach blossoms, they are all pink. Only this pink is the most romantic color in the world. Who doesn't want to have a "peach blossom luck"? Who can escape the "peach blossom robbery"? Stars constantly create scandals, whether they are sincere or deliberate, which drive fans crazy. There are no peaches in the movie. Who will go to see it? There are no peaches in the story. Who likes to watch? So Buddhists don't like watching TV, and they certainly don't read novels. That kind of pornography, explicit, fanaticism, let a person see the blood boiling, it is difficult to breathe. Where can they be quiet?
Life once and twice is a person's greatest glory. Women are often cultivated into demons by men. This kind of best is like a martial arts expert who has practiced unparalleled magic. It is a waste not to apply martial arts to men. Men naturally love such goblins. The stories of four ancient beauties, Xizi, Yuhuan, Diophantine and Zhaojun, are all fascinating to the extreme. When the king saw them, they were all emotional and forgot the country. More seductive and coquettish, such as Pan Jinlian, Li Pinger, Su Daji, Zhao Yanfei and Zhao Hede, wrote the most erotic works in the history of China.
Peach blossom is a neutral word, one side is love, the other side is lewd. As long as there is a holy heart, it is a famous prostitute, also in the dust, in the dye. There is La Traviata in foreign countries, and there is a love story of Cai E and Fengxian Xiao, a famous prostitute of Beijing School, in China, which is fascinating and touching. The most wonderful thing is the meeting between White Snake and Xu Xian on the broken bridge of West Lake. This story made me envy for a long time when I was a child. The peach blossoms are in bloom. What is the most beautiful love in life? Women are like flowers. Behind every peach blossom, there is a story. The more gorgeous, the more unforgettable. But who knows a woman's heart? Give her a complete one?
On the way in spring, you will always bump into peach blossoms inadvertently. The world is pink, even the air is pink, very gentle and charming, very amorous feelings and bright. Ten miles of soft red, a rouge cloud. Peach blossom creek, peach blossom water, peach blossom crossing, swallow flying back in spring, peach blossom dipping in water, careless spring, full of love. It's still the girl walking on the 3322 road, holding one or two peach blossoms in her hand, and the peach blossoms on her face set each other off in red, making this spring bright and lively. I want to pick a peach blossom and put it in a vase next to the window. Are you my peach blossom?
Who lit my spring and made my heart tremble among the flowers?
Who sings "Peach flies, burns its glory" for me, pours out the whispers of love and writes about the attachment of love?
Who has deep feelings, poetic feelings and homesickness with me, playing andante like a song?
Who is holding a round fan, standing alone on the shore of still water, "dancing low and singing the bottom wind of the peach blossom fan" and smiling shyly at my peach blossom?
You are my peach blossom, looking for a woman as gorgeous as a peach blossom for thousands of years. Peach blossoms in spring, you are the most beautiful one. I just want to watch peach blossoms with you and draw a picture of peach blossoms for you: in the isolated peach blossom garden, a graceful woman, like a fairy, flutters and dances. ...
Spring is coming, romantic and crazy, and I don't care, just open quietly with you, and be quiet and beautiful together. We, peach blossoms, bloom in the bone marrow of spring and on the bones of spring.