Dreaming in the dream outside the heart like dust, flowers thank you blossom dance colorful; ancient and modern pedestrians, how many old things into smoke cloud.
All the way to the green clouds, an idle text, a chapter of the old words, a paper ink, tell the story of a dream song of the past.
They are the most important thing that you can do for your family, and the most important thing that you can do for your family is to make sure that you have a good relationship with them. The first thing you need to do is to get the best out of your life, and then you can get the best out of your life, and then you can get the best out of your life. The lattice of the road, shaking down the prosperity of the world, silent love of a lifetime. In the fragment of the dragonfly pointing at the water, the book is inexhaustible red dust and flowers, mirage chapters, can not say the reincarnation mood. The three life stone, accustomed to see the wind and the moon, Linglong climb singing the wish but cold down a few red face; butterfly dance season, to see the green silk stained white frost
Leaning on the window, the empty half of the old words to savor; leaning on the moon, but the score of half a new song to play and sing. The moment you brush shoulders with the wind, hang-ups, quietly climbed on the brow, lazy red beans, lazy sadness; swaying shadow, leaking the string of the moon's heart, leaking the lonesome face of the thin face. The quiet fantasies, faintly reminiscent of the once bitter, once sweet, perhaps, the cycle of the four seasons, always can not escape the fate of the fate of the end.
Grinding a pool of ink, will be attached and thoughts written all over the flying flowers, the passing of the plot recorded as an eternal continuation; gently strumming the strings of the spectrum full of heart, and with the clamor of the sadness, murmuring and singing. Let the love of the ages, the love of the ages, the fate of the ages, all in the text stretch, in the time and space melodious. Thousands of sails have passed, the smoke and clouds of old events; lingering in the pungent romance, hovering under the cold slanting sun; the splendor of the millennium, the promise across the mountains and the water, the watchfulness of the heart and the heart, the coolness of the other side of the sleeve, the planting of the dream of the fleeting flowers. Purple strangers red dust, spinning like a butterfly, water sleeve empty dance woman, tear shadow appendage, the missteps of this life, broken into a ground of sweetness.
Loneliness without traces, who to pity this thin bone eyebrow curtain? Old things like smoke, turn over the memory of the past, and song, and sigh ......