The melody of erhu brought me to an intoxicated dream. Jiang Nanyu made me linger in music, and music made me obsessed with the artistic conception. Walking slowly and leisurely, guzheng plays classical poems, and romantic feelings extend ethereal feelings. A little song, a poem, let me deeply integrate into nature.
Continuous mood, such as catkins dancing in the snow, exquisite women, walking by the arch bridge in autumn. Warm autumn, slow autumn wind, faint white clouds and gloomy thoughts turn the sky blue and the lake blue. How many waves can be set off at a glance. Through the sigh of autumn water, a dripping Jiang Nanyu is brewing.
I remember you, who once had ups and downs with me. I remember you, holding hands in the lush sunset and under the roadside pavilion, telling me that after winter, Xun Mei would ride a donkey. Now, it's autumn again, cicadas sing intermittently, cicadas sing every word, and fireflies fly to the ruins. However, under the ancient city walls, there are no more bits and pieces in your memory, but they are endless.
Rain falls on the blue flag and flowers fall on the umbrella. Cardamom and clove knot, my heart is flying. Horseshoe is marked with wind and frost. On a clear night with a bright moon, the full moon is shallow and spacious, full of lovesickness and beautiful shadows. There was a whisper in the willow shoots, flowers moving in the middle of the month, heavenly heart, sweet-scented osmanthus trees escaping, and there were many lingering thoughts in the world.
Red lanterns, reflection boats, strings of sorrow into graves; Picking lotus songs, feeling sad, stems and leaves touching the roots; Yang Liuan has tears in her eyes. It's a bright moon, which is very beautiful. Melancholy thoughts and affectionate poems made Lonely Sail pour out the melancholy of lonely journey by the crescent moon. In the sound of heartbroken, misty rain gurgled in the south of the Yangtze River, and Jiangnan minor popped up, relying on historical transformation.
Jiang Nanyu, wet smell, Jiang Nanyu, sweet melancholy, Jiang Nanyu, lonely loneliness. The past of the whole city, the songs and dances of Dai Dai in the Six Dynasties, the colorful legends of Qinhuai, the adventures of talented people and beautiful women, and the fate stories of stones are all gathered in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. They are silent, vocal, sick, well managed, happy and lonely.
Up and down, flowers fall in the wind. The left hand misses and the right hand splashes water. Can't hold the fleeting time, can't hold the happy face. Nanfeiyan, the absolute summer Zen. Surrounded by mountains and rivers, valleys and orchids. The picture is spread out, and the wind and rain are lonely. There is also a flat string in Suzhou, which is watery. The mighty wind and smoke, wrapped in the sad sleep of crying, rain fell on bananas, and the night rain was full of stains. Relax, have feelings, and your heart is weak.
Lanhuazhi, blue and white porcelain, looking for traces of your Millennium. Xieniang Bridge, winding around, blends the beauty of first encounter. Like a dream, my fingers are old. Su Xin's writing is light and exquisite. I don't know from behind, I miss you deeply. The blue butterfly is a dream, and the dream is pain. Childhood is thin, who knows who is thin? Endless lingering, in clouds and water, flute playing, what day is the Milky Way, do you know? Lack of circles.
Lonely wind and lingering rain linger in my night sky. There is my fatalism by the window. I want to pick up my past and sail in the misty and rainy south of the Yangtze River. However, platitudes have long been a kind of ballad in my heart. My distress, my taste, is woven into a ring of sonorous fingers. The hair tip is fragrant, the hair is trickling, and there is a lingering scar on the edge of autumn.