The melody of the erhu brought me to a dreamland like intoxication, the rain in Jiangnan let me stay in the music, the music let me obsessed in the mood. Walk slowly, leisurely taste, guzheng play classical poetry, romantic feelings extend the misty misty sentiment. A small song, a small order, put me y into the heavenly music.
Myriad thoughts, such as snow fluttering willow, delicate woman, style walking in the autumn arch bridge. Warm autumn sun, slow autumn wind, light white clouds, lush matters of the heart, the sky stained into an azure blue, the lake turquoise waves, a glance can set off a few ripples, looking through the autumn water sigh, is brewing a, dripping Jiangnan rain.
Remember you, once and my wind and rain, remember you, in the grassy sunshine, long pavilion short pavilion, hand in hand love as such, told me to find plum riding donkeys after winter. And now, another year of autumn came, grasshopper sound intermittent, cicadas chirping words and phrases, flow of fireflies also flew to the remains of the wall, just, the old city walls, no longer have your dribs and drabs, memories, but, uninterrupted as a wisp.
The rain fell on the green stone board, falling flower umbrella. The cardamom lilac knot, misty heart language splash. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty. The night of the white moon and wind, the shallow full moon is sparse, curved a note of love, full of a piece of Li Ying. The willow tree has been treasured in the murmur of the past, the shadow of the flower and the moon, the heart of the sky, the osmanthus tree leakage Xiang Yi, the human world, more lingering thoughts.
The red lantern, reflecting the boat, strings of heart into a mound; pick lotus song, Nymphaea love, stem leaves and roots even the beard; willow bank, tears weeping, the same bright moon is easy to face. Tantalizing sadness, thick love poetry, let the lonely sail along the crescent moon to tell the melancholy of the lonely travel, broken heart sound, bubbling out of the smoke and rain of Jiangnan's disorientation, play is the Jiangnan tune, hanging on to the transition of history.
Jiangnan rain, moist flavor, Jiangnan rain, sweet melancholy, Jiangnan rain, lonely lonely. The city's past, the six dynasties, the song and dance, the legend of the Qinhuai eight girls, the encounter of the talented, the stone of the fate of the fates of the gathering, gathered in the rain in Jiangnan, speechless, audible confession, sickly matters of the heart, how much do you care about what happened behind you, the defeat of the happy, the footnote of despondency.
The first time I saw this, I was in the middle of the night, and I was in the middle of the night. The left hand of the thoughts, the right hand of the pouring. I can't hold on to the years, I can't hold on to the happy face. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new one, and you'll be able to do it. The water in the mountains is winding around, and the valley is full of orchids. The scroll is spread out, and the wind and rain are alone in disappointment. And a song of Suzhou's flat-stringed, phantom tears. The vast wind and smoke, wrapped in the sad sleep of the crows, let the rain fall on the banana, the night rain speckled. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm going to be able to do it," he said.
Orchid finger, blue and white porcelain, looking for your thousand years of traces. The first time I saw you, I was so happy to see you, and I was so happy to see you. The first time I saw you, I was so happy to see you. The heart of the woman writes a light meaning, and several strokes describe the exquisite. After the parting, I realized that I was thinking about Qing, and the blue butterfly was a dream, and the dream was a pain. The blue butterfly is a dream, and the dream is a pain. Inexhaustible lingering, in the clouds and water, long xiao play, the Milky Way Naihe days, know? The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty.
The first time I saw the movie, it was a very good one, and I think it was a very good one. The first thing I want to do is to get the best out of my life, and then I'll be able to get the best out of my life. My anguish, my flavor, woven into a circle of resounding ten fingers around. Hair tresses fragrant, hair trickle, the edge of the fall, there is a lingering, scarred remnants of my Jiangnan.