The moonlit night is beautiful, the moonlit night is shimmering, the moonlit night is dreamy, the moonlit night is endless ...... The moonlit night brings infinite reverie and infinite joy.
I have also seen the moonlit night, the impression that it is so beautiful and moving, mesmerizing. That time, I sat on the lawn, looking up at the sky, looking at the round moon and twinkling stars, I think that the twinkling stars like eyes, but also blinking, as if to greet me. And the round moon was like a jade disk, hanging high in the sky. Look, this is Saturn and that is Mercury. There are also Altair and Vega. Looking at all this, it makes me think of a poem in Du Mu's "Autumn Eve": the night is as cool as water on the heavenly steps, and I lie down to watch Altair and Vega".
I look at the lonely moon, as if I saw Chang'e and Jade Rabbit missing Hou Yi, and can not help but think of Li Bai's "Silent Night Thoughts" in the poem: raise your head to look at the bright moon, head down to think of your hometown. At that moment, a shooting star crossed the sky, and I immediately made a wish: I hoped that everyone would be reunited. I looked up at the sky. There were countless half-bright stars hanging in the deep black night sky, and when I looked at the stars that I recognized, I felt as if I could hear them speaking quietly to me. In this silent and peaceful night, from time to time came a burst of dog barking, adding a few more vitality to the quiet night. Suddenly, I felt like a child again, sleeping in my mother's arms.
The stars in the sky were present, as if they were lit with countless streetlights, and the stars in the sky were present, as if they were blinking with countless eyes.
Moonlit night, it is with your presence in the world that one does not feel monotonous.
The moon is round, the wind is blowing over, warm and somewhat humid. Such a night, suitable for sitting in a quiet corner, a cup of tea, a piece of music, tasting endless past events.
Think of Zhang Ruoxu's "Night of the Spring River and the Moon", stretch out your hand to hold a handful of moonlight, if you have the heart, you can certainly see my face.
In fact, I am only a grain of ordinary dust in the world, fortunate enough to fall under which flowers and trees, should have been satisfied.
Wave after wave, the sky round moon, in the water, a blur. If you want to talk about love, love is the moon in the water.
You smile, I know your happiness, but you? Do you know my happiness? If you are the moon, I am this water ......
Dear, we are not as important as we think
Recently, I read a book by Lawrence Liu, and I saw two short stories that made me laugh. One is that the book said a friend of the husband and wife were angry, the wife went back to her mother's home in a fit of anger, gas two days did not call home, two days later could not hold back, had to go back to their own, into the door, but found that the daughter was eating, got a face of jam, the husband is playing mahjong with friends, to see her back to just smile and say hello, as if it was an ordinary friend. Another is also two couples quarrel, the wife in a fit of pique, grabbed a few clothes, carrying a small bag to go, she opened the door and do not want to give up, so it slammed the door, sitting in the living room sulking, but heard the husband in the bedroom to call a friend and say: "Great, my wife went out and came to see the Super Soccer Tournament!" The wife is so lost that she has an idea, opens and closes the door hard, then walks back to her husband and says, "I couldn't leave you alone, so I came back!" The husband immediately said, "Honey, I was in a hurry, I was about to get dressed and go out to look for you, you know I can't leave you!"
I gave this story to my colleagues, they all watched and laughed and talked about it, so I talked about a former colleague. Husband and wife have a very good relationship, can be said to be inseparable, the wife is out of the countryside, there is no culture, usually everything is relying on the husband, other people will talk about: "Who who all have her husband in support, or else ......" Last year, her husband died, and now see her! The people said "I did not expect her husband died, but she lived more and more comfortable, what will also do, and recently talked about an object, I heard that soon to be married."
We usually always feel that our position in the family is very important, and we think that if we leave ourselves, our family members, especially the "other one", will not be able to live or even suffer, so we often threaten: "If it were not for me, how so". "You will be so and so when I am gone one day." But when you think about it, are we really that important? In fact, leave us tomorrow's sun will still rise, life will continue as usual, just like the injury will be good, need so narcissistic?
The other day, I went back to my mother's home to stay with my father for a few days, and when I left, he said, "You haven't left me, I'm not used to it. The first time I saw this, I was in the middle of a conversation with my father. The situation that I had hoped for didn't happen. It's not a good feeling, but on second thought, it's a relief. We are independent individuals, because of love together and attached to each other. Love allows people to willingly and sincerely to hold, care, take care of another person, this emotion does not have any conditions, do not need each other to pay and return. Love is equal, it abandons the status, money, talent and other, no matter how big your career outside, how high the status of fame and fortune, in the family is just an ordinary lover, you do not have the right to "the other half" temper, bossy, if this is done to show off the capital or the reason for the superiority of the love of the dirt and blasphemy. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new one, and you'll be able to do that.
In life, because everyone's character is different, the pressure to bear different, so after work back home more or less show their other side: or to the loved ones of the sense of dependence, or the desire to dominate, and some will produce some of the impulse to vent and behavior, these are normal. In the face of love's tolerance and openness can generally be satisfied and understood. But this does not mean that they are the center, is inseparable from others, love or go, are the normal procedures of life, dear, we have not imagined so important!
The moonlit night classic prose 3
Who is sprinkled with moonlight on the Tingzhou up a complaint flute, gently plucking the heartstrings of the desire to be broken, causing a deep and dark feelings, quietly lament, the heart of the matter between the sleeves. Autumn color drenched hibiscus, flower scent overflowing scattered, scooped up a wisp of fragrance, moonlight, sunk into the lake. The floating fragrance can carry the thoughts flow to the place where you are, can diffuse into your face. If not, then let the miss with the ripples dissipate, and then, cover a shovelful of moonlight buried, so that the long flute, poetic death.
And who sifted the moonlight into thoughts, and sprinkled the fragments in front of your window, the place where my soul haunts. Whether you still remember the swing under the sycamore tree, after the separation, the swing is still lonely swing, the afterglow is more vicissitudes, whether the marks of the years and deep a few. Often dream of you alone looking at the last leaves of autumn, neat veins in the eyes began to be disorganized, yellow lines sealed up your simple smile. I saw your sadness accompanied by the fall went far, far away, the dream woke up but only the face of despondency ...
Who does not understand the love, the heart of the matter cut into two halves, half sprinkled in the moonlight, one side of the side mailed to go to the geese, under the moonlit night, to pick up a drop of cloudy tears, stained ink inkstone, the drop of the paragraph but silent. After the parting, the sadness is cut off, how to ask the sky with wine? Looking through the waters of the fall, the affairs of the heart and who said, no one said, insomnia tossed a lonely night. The moon is too bright, who can't bear to stare, only the moonlit night to look down. And then look up, the moonlight collects, meteors in the pupil hiding tears tear out a scar ...
Moonlight Night Classic Prose 4A round full moon hanging in the boundless sky, hazy lingering moonlight, issued by the ice-cold light, into the eyes of the wandering wanderer, occasional piece of scattered leaves, drifting with the wind, full of the lonesomeness of the late autumn. The scene in front of me, the layers fell to the wandering wanderer's heart, full of infinite despair and helplessness.
Life is like an autumn. Why is this part of the Gobi so inhospitable?
The Mongolian Gobi's fall is extremely short, here almost no seasons, as if a dream, has been the end of the prosperity, weeds have stopped growing wild, the vast Mongolian Gobi, a yellow, miles of depression, has entered the long eight months of winter.
It seems that the mood is also with the change of seasons, each other ups and downs. The empty mind, in the silence of the night, like a ghost general drift, as if in front of the eyes of a piece of falling leaves, do not know where, let yourself do a moment to stay!
Years of cold, work, life is not as good as, in the heart of the haunting, can not leave for a long time 、、、、、、
Years outside the fight, tasted the hardships of struggle for survival, a deep appreciation of the "one man gets the road, the chickens and cronies," the trend of the eyes of the officialdom forces, witnessed a discourse, dog-eyed look at people low! The first time I saw this is when I was in the middle of the night, and I was in the middle of the night!
Walking the road of life, a few more fragrant, a few more flowers red, a few more helpless. When, hesitant youth, was swallowed by the wasted years, I repeatedly told myself that some things missed, will never get back. A vast number of beings, the story, the plot is too much, too hurtful, in the face of reality, I am too much struggle, unchangeable changes in time, everyone is so much reincarnation, even if all the pious foolish worship burned out, round and round, searching for years, until the frost like a dream, no matter how we insist, that smoked the bleak personnel, but how can not go to the end of the story.
Fate, reincarnation, the arrangement of fate, I, you can not break free from those years of flow. A life of travel, you pass me, I pass you, whether it is perfect, or lack of, is not this mixed emotions of sadness and joy, each of us is a messenger for the survival of the busy, difficult to part with the years, leave, can not see again; waiting for, turn around the end of the world, the kind of wet eyes of the longing, and is not it, and only I have experienced the upheaval after such a taste of the sour, sweet, bitter and spicy life, can let me know the holy, sweet, bitter, spicy life, and the life of the world. Only then can I understand the holy life!
Alone on this wandering journey, I realized that my deep eyes, there are hot tears rolling down. The most unforeseeable thing in a person's life is to meet, and the most unavoidable thing to say goodbye to is to leave.
Pick up a piece of floating leaves, put in the palm of your hand, gently spread out, smoothing out the uneven folds, so that I can see the true nature of his heart, all a withered black. But with the change of seasons, he has turned into a cloud of smoke that drifts away with the wind!
Let me choose to give up all the troubles that earth brings, and the unpleasantness of work and life. With the stars and the moon as a companion, and loneliness as a friend. In the dead of night, when others have been sound asleep, I was in the empty office, restarted the computer, rushed a cup of strong tea, gently strummed the keyboard, in the sea of literature to stay; in the poetry of the quiet place to stroll; in the prose side of the lingering; in the pursuit of the longing of the novel!
As if feeling the silence of the night, with a special magic, selflessly gave the wandering wanderer in a foreign land, the world's most holy serenity, washed my deepest work in the heart of the unpleasantness brought about by a line of tears, recorded a piece of poetry from the inspiration.
I snuggle with each other with the late night, in front of the computer blue fluorescent screen, knocking on their favorite literary creation of this hot spot, let the pace of inspiration, in the infinite space shuttle; thoughts soaring in the silence; emotions in the yearning to release; thinking in the emotion of the bloom; the soul in the text of the ocean gallop!
The first time I looked back, I forgot that I was in a foreign country, a hasty passer-by, ah! The moon is full again in another country, the water, or the sweetest hometown! Tonight, the full moon on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the wandering wanderer, have nothing to do with it! Night, but the replacement of day and night, interpretation of the eternal rotation of the earth. Can never carry the wanderer in order to survive the hardships of wandering! This is not my permanent harbor!
The moonlit night classic prose 5The night of the 14th day of Leap May in the year Nianchen, the sky is open and clear, the moon is like a wash, the fragrance of the flowers swells, streaming on the pillow woven mat. Evening bath new cool, Shijun said that the clear view is difficult to meet, can not bear to lie down, is with wine and food, invited Yu Yu on the rooftop to enjoy the moon, and gladly should be.
The rooftop is quiet and uninhabited, with no mosquitoes or gadflies, and the wind is blowing, and the moon is like a practice. The green sleeves of the robe, with the railings far away, as far as the eye can see, the green hills hidden, the river water soup; lights, flowers and shadows. The sound of cars is hidden in the ears, the insects chirping, answering and singing, a rhyme. Raise a cup to invite the moon, the wine when Yan song, dance to get clear shadow, flowers **** smile, a few forget me two people are born in the world carry on.
With the stone gentleman teasing young people, flowers and moon shadow, the smoke Xia Pavilion, laughter, and smooth. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it. The first time I saw this, I was in the middle of the night, and I was in the middle of the night, and I was in the middle of the night, and I was in the middle of the night, and I was in the middle of the night, and I was in the middle of the night.
And then, with colleagues drinking plum wine, color like amber, quality like manna, fresh and mellow. The wine is half-full, the moon is already in the middle of the sky, the mountain is no one, as quiet as the ancient times. Streams and ravines, pine and bamboo clear, ten thousand green drops thick, a thousand peaks competing. The mountains are like a beauty under the lamp, shadows and shadows, frowning and eyebrows, deep feelings, pulse as a complaint, the charm of the sky, the style is tantalizing.
The letter of the step, the foot is as soft as a sheep, but see the colorful, fragrant grass; occasional spring water, waterfalls murmuring, bamboo wind dashing, pine waves soughing, the more far the icy spirit, the deeper the silence, the more intense the feelings, can be said to be full of the sound of the stream, full of the eyes of the mountain color. Yu and view and line, do not know where the heart is. It is electric connection Shi Jun, looking up and talking, such as nightmares such as ravings, moving their hearts, he is also intoxicated carry on. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it.
Things have changed, the dead are like this. The mountain and the moon are still the same, and the mind is getting old. The first time I looked back, it was like a lifetime ago. The universe is vast, and the years are long. I hate this body is not mine, when will I forget the camp? If you are not a hundred years old, don't worry about a thousand years. The first thing you need to do is to get a good deal of money to pay for the services you need.
Two people sitting in a daze, raise the cup *** drink, speechless than a thousand words, secretly wish: year after year today, year after year today, I wish to know each other and companion, a lifetime. And until the wind and dew gradually rise, the jade rabbit west, wine and food is exhausted, cups and plates in disarray. So they returned to each other, embraced each other and sleep, dreaming very cozy, do not know the white of the East.
July is the month of fire, October is the month of clothing.
The hot summer with the departure of the monsoon in September and gradually far away, slightly intoxicated cool fall has been unforeseen. The peaceful month of October is coming to an end before we can even pay attention to it. As the end of the month approaches, the weather becomes warmer and more pleasant. For several mornings in a row, the sun shines through the window sill, dappling the small room with bright fall light. Just like that long and peaceful dream scene last night. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't remember the scene in my dream. From the ears also no longer ringing the vague call of the countryside, it quietly away from life; perhaps it is not to be found in the morning clouds, the sun out of the east, it will be with the wind and passed away. When the empty mood disappears, life will be calm again, and I am alone to return along the original road. And, of course, there is Bressanone ringing in my ears, wandering in the room where the autumn light flows.
By mid-afternoon, the sky was high and the sun was shining outside the window. I can't help but be inspired to come outdoors to find a piece of unoccupied grass to lie down and enjoy a quiet afternoon. Such a fall afternoon in late October, you can read some books, you can listen to some songs, you can also remember some things. High school in the fall, always feel that everything is desolate, even the daylight is also a little cold, once a month home car, looking out the window of the field, where once grew lush rice, vibrant. Just now, the empty land on a withered, just a few remaining withered grain in the field stranded, with a fatalistic tragic color and the rest of the dust has ended! Thousands of years ago, Fu Zi was saddened by this scene and made the "Interlang Exercise", which is about the luxuriant growth of the caper wheat, and the caper wheat. The gentleman's hurt, the gentleman's guard. Its sentence of pathos and loneliness, who with the drunk?
The scenery is different from the people, the phase is born from the heart. Listening to those sad tunes, sighing those who can not catch the youth, flying sand like the passing of emotions, once felt that suffering is the soul of the companion, it can crack the mediocrity, awakening numbness, so people always have to carry the hidden pain of the soul forward. The benevolent man is not worried, the wise man is not confused, the courageous man is not afraid. Even if the mountain is exhausted this afternoon, there is still a simple life, with a distant dream. Even if it's freezing tomorrow, even if the road is long and the horses are dead. I can not help but think of this sentence: growth is the longing and nostalgia of the scale, when it tilted to the decadent fall, those who have lost sight of the night with what kind of voice to comfort?
Dusk falls, twilight gradually, then get up and go home. The sun is setting, and the geese are crossing the sky, leaving a wailing sound. The October night of the fall, as in the past like the quiet. Candlelight sporadic, flickering its shadow, in this boundless night, there are only a few to promote the weaving hide in the weeds in the courtyard all night low singing, like an angel was left behind in the dark night. Tonight, the moon and stars are sparse, light clouds and mist. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it.
When the lights come on, the city's flashing night scene is gorgeous, looking for relief in the soul in the lights, in the drunkenness will be wasted time, the soul will be paid with alcohol and smoke in the fall, gradually hate this reinforced concrete pouring city, the hustle and bustle of the air, has long been the ability to believe in the destruction of the air as if it were a swimmer. Stuck in the middle of the terrible nothingness, this is the source of emptiness and loneliness. Mr. Shi Tiesheng, who believes in Christ by day and Buddha by night, said: Faith is a kind of indomitable spirit held by man in the face of the predicament of life that cannot be changed. Faith in God during the day is meant to be a positive response to the suffering of the world; in the dead of night, Buddhism is the homeland of the heart, a time to heal alone. As he wrote in The Last Exercise: In the afternoon, if the sun is silent, can you hear where the past has returned? In the front end of the light, or the extreme of thought, in the presence of time is ignored, life and death are the same.
The classic prose of the moonlit night 7Tonight there is a moon, taking advantage of the bright moonlight, came to the campus of the real middle school. I've been working here for more than a decade, and the school's grass and trees, for me such an "old solid", there is nothing new, but here there is always my infinite attachment.
Stepping into the door of the real center, the "for the rise of China and study" of the huge marble building, into the eyes. Under the moonlight and fluorescent lamps, it looks unusually calm and dignified, complementing the famous words of our great Premier Zhou, and highlighting the ideals and beliefs of the people of the actual middle school.
At the back of the building, a bamboo forest, straight into the sky. The bamboo leaves sway slightly in the autumn wind, seemingly fiddling with this harvest season. Standing next to the bamboo forest, looking up at the bamboo's high winds, can not help but be overwhelmed. As a teacher, if you have to have an idol, why not like the bamboo, a leap up, not branching, but also elegant style?
The classroom is quiet, the lights are diagonally spread all over the campus, and the bright moonlight intermingled, gathered a party harmony. Through the clean glass, you can vaguely see the teacher who is tutoring and head down self-study . The students. I think the teacher's heart must be full of happiness, because his students are so focused on learning; students must also be very down-to-earth learning, because beside them wandering is their favorite teacher.
Through the school building, came to the middle courtyard of the school, the tall poplar tree, singing a faint song in the autumn wind, occasionally falling a yellow leaf, lightly floating down on my shoulder, and then lying on the ground, waiting for the students with their hands full of warmth, to bury them. They go, but they have dedicated six months of rich green, six months of shade to their students. They should be smiling down, because they will dedicate themselves to this campus, and now they will be "turned into spring mud more flowers," to continue their own no regrets life.
The campus of the small square, fitness equipment quietly lying in the moonlight, as if in the quiet night meditation. The classroom has left too many memories in their bodies, the boy who reads by their side, whether they are still chasing their dreams? That playful children around them, whether they still hang a happy smile? That ......
Such a moonlit night, such romance, such warmth, such harmony, such a campus, strolling a such me.
Moonlit night classic prose 8
Tonight, lying in bed, grinding side to side. Outside the window, the bright moon streaming dreamy images. My whole heart was attracted, climbed up, put on his clothes, stood in front of the window ......
Take out a friend to send tea, soak a cup. Sitting in front of the window, dense fog rising, light tea overflowing. Clear sip, refreshing, warm and comforting, that comfortable, so I can not help but thank the friend from the heart. Because of his obsession with tea, because of his sentence "tasting tea is like tasting life", so that my heart strings for it. Like, in this quiet leisurely days, holding a cup of tea, in the endless reverie, savor. Misty fog, hazy moonlight, my heart in a dream, cloaked in flying clothes. In the face of the clear moon, gently smiled. That smile dyed through the watery night color, covered with a warm veil, dancing out of the misty image.
Picked up the cup of tea, I lightly tasted a mouthful, looked up at the moon, and saw that he also smiled. I can't help but see my friend's back in a hurry, whether he also stops his busy steps, leisurely enjoying the charming moonlight, showing a touch of moving smile?
Standing up, depending on the window, I actually lifted up the tea, invited the moon *** enjoy. I want to interact with friends, also like this tea bar, light, fine taste, long aftertaste, intriguing. And too strong, the mind will be excited, disturbed thoughts, can not fall asleep, is not it? That round of the moon scattered soft light, perhaps understand my thought language.
People often say that the moon represents thoughts, and in this bright moonlight, I miss who? I sip tea, smile sweetly, I miss this cup of light tea. People often say, tasting tea is like tasting life, then tonight I tasted what? Looking up at the moon, I smiled faintly, I tasted a leisurely dream. The aroma of tea flows in the body, I gazed y into the deep night sky, guess: in such a dreamy night, is there a person, like me, holding up a cup of tea, to the bright moon, gently smile? Whether in this charming moonlight, also like me, have the same mood, guess another me?
In the past few days, I read a book - "Sycamore So Hurt", in which a sentence, which made me y moved: "will you read the person, think of the things and things written on paper, buried in the sycamore tree, you can realize their own wishes." I suddenly wanted to try this romance on this charming moonlit night. Put down the cup of tea, take out the paper and pen, write down the thoughts and wishes in my heart. Come downstairs, the night is quiet, floating in the air with a leisurely fragrance of osmanthus, that elegant fragrance, filling each of my cells, so that I lightly floating as the spirit of the fairy, fluttering in the moonlit night. I came to the lush sycamore tree, the moonlight from the sycamore leaf gap dappled down, vaguely visible. I squatted down and buried my thoughts and wishes. Pick a piece of sycamore leaves, face the bright moon, close your eyes, gently put the beautiful flawed thoughts, stay in this charming moonlight, silent in this sycamore leaves, recorded this moonlight romance. If one day, take out this sycamore leaf, remember this night, is not my buried want and wish have been realized?
Back home, I continue to drink the rest of the tea, although the tea has been cold, but the tea leaves through the steeping, dissolved into the water tea, still remains, still elegant fragrance. At this time, my friend's words - tasting tea is like tasting life, ringing in the ears, I can not help but smile blandly, in the face of the bright moon, ask a light: "Friends, can be good?
Classic prose on a moonlit night 9Moonlit night, silent, the darkness slowly extends, has been extended to the human heart. The silver disk in the sky became a pale white color, pale, such as a soft woman, unable to show her stunning face.
Desperate, unwilling, she used the cloud as a dance sleeve, dancing in the air, dancing wind gradually lifted the pale veil, a trace of silver from the veil shot out, stabbed at the dark night, the sky gradually clear, the silver light of the water generally leaked down, dipped into every space, dipped into every inch of the land. Soaked into the heart of every person.
Another year of the Mid-Autumn Festival, I remember when I was a child, looking forward to the Mid-Autumn Festival every year, because mom and dad grew up talking about that nursery rhyme, the moon poop, because the adults told me about Chang'e, Wu Gang, Jade Rabbit.
The days of that time were so far away and long, to the mid-autumn festival, looking at the silver plate of the moonlight. Thinking of the dancing figure in the sky, eat a mouthful of old mooncakes, hard, sweet, mixed with sesame, peanut aroma, as well as Mom and Dad's story repeated year after year, the mouth is also melted, the heart is also drunk,
Year after year, the Mid-Autumn Festival, I am also big, the moon is always so gentle, the mooncake varieties are also more and more, but, however, but, as if, Mom and Dad are gradually old, so old to fast bite the mooncake, and tell the old story, but the mooncake, and the old story. They can't tell the old stories anymore. Dear Mom and Dad, can you still tell me an old story in my dream this year? I want to hear it so much. I want to hear it so much. I want to eat the old mooncakes and listen to Chang'e's story.
The moon will still be as full this year, and the mooncakes will still smell as good. But the people who eat mooncakes are less and less, or, the moon since ancient times is please cold, the sea is bright moon, the end of the world *** this time, in the cold moonlight, can get together with the people still joyful. The distant relatives will also use the love of the heart tightly linked together, space and time without distance.
Another full moon, to the moon, you can drink a pot of old wine, and you can sing the moon poop, all the way to the dream.
Moonlit Night Classic Prose 10Sitting in the yard looking at the moon, the beautiful figure of the moon will make me intoxicated. The moon's beautiful figure will make me mesmerized! A bend of the crescent moon quietly slipped up the treetops, looks like a silver cradle evening wind Granny gently humming lullabies. Little oriole also passed to the inside of the cradle, the crescent moon child in the treetops swing ah swing. The stars in the sky only adoring winking eyes, after a long time the new moon and turned into a paddle child, floating in the Milky Way with the stars all the way to play --------------------
Listen to the frogs have not yet rested, the crickets have not been idle, the nightingale is singing, the bamboo forest treetops are also in the hooting and hollering and echoing the -------------- a moonlit night symphony is being The symphony of a moonlit night is being blown in an organized manner. Sometimes high-pitched impulsive big night party, sometimes low back and gentle, sometimes a round of big night chorus immediately after a round of small chorus, sometimes a round of duet, sometimes a solo ------ This is actually a full moon night concert!
Whether you live in a bustling city or a quiet village, I believe that everyone has a different feeling for the moon. I love the moon: I love her smooth and lovely, I love her quiet and sweet, and I love her lively and dynamic!
Ah! The moonlit night intoxicates me ！！！！
The moon is in the sky, the stars are silent, floating clouds drift away. The mountains are stacked and shadowed, hidden from view. The first time I saw this, it was a very good time for me. The bridge and the boat are silently attached to each other, silently. The rocks on the bank are abrupt, the river gently gurgles. The fireflies are dancing and the crickets are whispering.
The night is deep, the stars slowly close their eyes, the wind seems to have long been sleepy. The river is quietly sleeping, the bridge, the boat snores. The color of the moon is spread over the water, so peaceful. The breeze caresses, so cozy. The first thing you need to do is to get into the mood, into the scene, into the dream.
A little leaning, tree shadows, rustling sound! It is the wind! Disturbing the tranquility of the night. In a flash, the water ripples, clear waves Xu Fan out of the 10,000 road of sunshine. Flying into the wilderness, just like the sky scattered countless sunshine. Warm and crystalline, handsome and unrestrained. Floating into the air, reflecting the mountains and rivers, the earth. Countless pearls are intermingled, so brilliant and colorful. Jumping and tumbling, speaking of unrivaled beauty. Like a dream, like drunkenness, like a fantasy, how can not let people reverie, obsessed.
Xu Bo kissed, Shi Er intoxicated. Silently close your eyes, let the waves of intimacy. Such as language, such as infatuation, stream tinkling, whispering a song. A sudden flash of haze, the Jade Maiden floats down draped in a rainbow, plucking the strings of the zither, deep in love with a song. Such as rain, such as quiet, such as dance, such as crying, the bridge to listen to lost in thought, the boat drifted across the shore, in a state of confusion do not know where they are. The wind forgot its footsteps and stayed there in a daze. Leaves hold their breath, clouds swinging in the starry river, peaks reflected in the bottom of the water. Jade trees, tree shadows, moonlight overflow, infinite haze.
The mountains and the shadows are reflected in each other, and the night moon and nebulae, the water and the sky are one color. This is the first time I've ever seen a woman in the world who has been in the world!