Beautiful morning message: I hope every morning of yours is poetic and picturesque

Introduction: Share with you some poetic sentences, I hope your every morning is full of poetry and picturesque.

1, running water gurgling, heart rhyme leisurely, falling flowers full of court, dark fragrance filling sleeves. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get it right, but I'm sure you're going to be able to get it right. The graceful and charming rhythm in the charming òò into a white and flawless heart lotus, let a song of water gently flowing, quietly spread, in the thin as Canyon wings of the plain paper soaked, and then soaked?

2, sedum pavilion, spring peony, a window wantonly not hired acacia, like the lights at the end of the water-colored rouge, gently play such as a dream of Jiangnan, a pair of smoky haze charming eyes soft like the spring breeze, run if the rain dew willow eyebrow fine description of this bend of the love of the ghost, the two swallows returned to the strangers can be met? If you don't understand the language of flowers, who are the flowers entwined with? A vein of weak acacia, softly stretching, sweetly if the flow of clear up, soft intestine back to the ring, thinking about the appendage, a pear white, knitted eyes look forward to the Lotus Steps Shan.

3, light as water, as clear as tea, between the fingers flying flowers. The wind soul, the fog shadow, the rain buried in the flowers. Hair like snow, face like jade, lonely and arrogant love kill. When everything is seen through, suddenly feel that sobriety will make people difficult. When the soul is hurt, suddenly understand the reality that there is too much helplessness, there are too many should not be. Loneliness has become a kind of faith, I use loneliness to heal the wound, use blood to make ink, build the city blossom undefeated, use tears to make clothes, interpretation of the wind and splendor! The long night is difficult to pillow, the moon is like a sad man who does not return. Flowers from the floating heart rain deep, prosperous curtain tear tear.

4, light a heart lamp, retreat in the square inch, in the end of the day at the shallow write watch, a sound over the sound of the voice of the cry, along the veins of thoughts crazy long. This life is engraved in the warmth and memories, condensed into the chest of the red color of the vermilion, dipped in the ink on the ghost of love, carefully sketched, the most beautiful love in this life with the true feelings filled with the warm lines of poetry?

5, pacing in the river, looking at the moon bleak floating clouds pouring all the human misery, the smoke cage cold water, the moon cage sand, parked Qinhuai boat has been away from the death of the moon to get the light shadow, dreaming of Chinese years. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this, 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.

6. April is filled with poetic dreams. With a warm and cozy, strolling in the years of bright coastline, look up, look up, that a blue sky, thousands of sweet stained into a stretch of picture, in the sway of the wind, in love with the sentiment, light dance delicate with permanent memory of the fragrance.

7, will be a lotus of the heart into the flow of the year, to a flower bloom posture silence into the orchid, such as water such as Xian. I just want to twist a section of poetry, a book of paintings, a small drink of pleasure, the wind to get, nothing to do with his words, and song and line. The only thing I can do is to keep a peace of mind, light ink and red dust, love each other in silence, silence like.

8, in this life, the wind and smoke flow years, hand in hand, red dust, day and night, condensed word for love. The two rely on each other, such as flowers, you are my only warm, not negative, prosperous lips lingering. That day, the sky is cloudy, such as my mood. Stepping on the broken sentimental, two eyes with frost, the wind blew, cold still. Close your eyes, can not remember your complete smile, a thousand years of red dust, just at this moment flooded with sheep sentiment, my world began to snow.

9, sleepless tonight, if you just drift through a wind, I want to be in the memory of the flow of years, write down a paper without your companion of the watch, definitely will not wake up your dreamland. If that long sad music, came to an abrupt end, whether I should be absolutely out of the red dust of wistfulness, the unwarranted melancholy thrown into the spring of the flowers, so that the sound of the piano do not give up woven into a romantic declaration of love, in the pearly rain in the scene of the reappearance of the pomp and circumstance. There is no moon tonight, and the stars are pitifully few. The shadow is folded in the dimness, slightly lonely, the night is like mourning, the darkness is deep.

10, a branch of the pear spring with the rain, the road between the pear blossom smoke and rain points, rain silk woven into a plain silk. In the Tang Dynasty ink in the search for charm, in the Zhuo Yi Wanjiao Song charming, shallow with the sadness alone to come to the absolute dust in the rain of poetry, a note of classical despondency. Brocade fifty strings, a string of a pillar sighing years, folding a branch of Li Shangyin lonesome feelings, point falling strata, pull knot into a section of the word order. There is only one kind of attachment that is engraved in the world, and it is hard to forget.

11, waterfront women in the Qinhuai River singing pheng song, the red lattice turquoise window, chiffon rouge-colored skirt, in the warbling and dancing on earth curling delicate style. This is with, drinking intoxicated by the colorful Jiangnan.

12, the flow of years, shallow, love, unchanged. Choose a fresh green zone, a sleeve of wind, twist a petal heart, hold a touch of warmth, a wisp of smoke and clouds, step on the beat of the heart, invited to the Tang and Song poems, about the morning dew and twilight, come together, dance out the colors of life. Not far away, you smile sweetly, look fresh, clear eyes full of cut deep love, watching, silent and breathless, no words and no words, like a dream.

13, staring at, thousands of miles of smoke, flowers and pavilions, if the remote depths of the water and clouds, between the illusion of the ancient interpretation of ten thousand kinds of flavors, the ancient color of the ancient people cloud ancient scenery in the mind of the remote flow, a graceful and meticulous elegance of a curling lightness of the drift. Shove a branch of sentimental maple red, the soul of the sad words of love, unloading all the sadness and joy in the world, hold up your gentle hand, snuggle up to your broad shoulders, do not ask the three worlds, do not ask the fate of marriage, the butterfly than the wings.

14, thousands of rivers have water thousands of rivers and the moon, ten thousand miles without clouds ten thousand miles of the sky, the wind slowed down the lotus pond far clamor clamor, hibiscus such as face. Pool flowers to the shadow fall, candle tears to the heart flow, night moonlight splash, not to other places not sad autumn. The wind is brimming, the clouds and water are smiling, and I am laughing at the moon's shadow pouring over the water. The summer has passed in the blink of an eye, and it is time to listen to the wind and rain in the fall, and say goodbye, without ever looking back. I want to send colored paper and ruler, water far away from the mountain will meet, the wind slow lotus pond to send incense far away, love on earth, have the fate to see you again.

15, the shadow of the pin, the guest also stand broken bridge; paper umbrella thin, the view of the clouds miserable sky high. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it. Qingming mourning, sacrificing a world of pride, tears to the candle shaking; the turn of the year, Weiwei has covered the autumn water artemisia. The rain and the smoke are getting farther and farther away, and the cold moon and the lead are shallow, so how can I feel sorry for them? I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to do that.

16, green wormwood, Acacia wine, a night of dreams less; see this day, drunk last night, but see the red face smile. A few more love, all disturbed, all the empty melancholy; intention to worry about the rise of the pool, laugh, drink wildly to the moon love. Today, sighing late, reunited for a long time, a world of love is difficult to break; to nine days, layer of clouds moving, indifferent to the empty feelings. Flying sand, dew condensation, bird song early in the morning; Pine strong, love like the world, laughing lightly to cause red dust.

17, gently push open a clump of hidden fence, tiptoe close to your window, listening to you read the bookmarks of those crescent moon charming, willow words and phrases, line by line, a stack of stacks, loaded with the murmur of the red dust, but also loaded with the delicate instructions.

18, the wind is still the same, the piano Xiao Su rhyme. The research ink chanting words, pen and ink dance fly. The reason for this is the fact that it is not a good idea to get a good deal of money. Today's paper, a thousand chapters, words, and sad and hurt. Sentences, and cold as frost. Just because, the fate of the dust like a dream, mirror flowers and water and moon, only to fold a thin bone, wai a few pages of paper, a touch of memory, a petal heart incense, stay in today's paper, bland into flowers. Perhaps, a thousand years later, a touch of dust in the wind, only a woman in the wind clear chanting?

19, love more but lonely, life is short, lonely heart old red face, the vow of the past life and how to withstand the slow flow of time to desolation? If I stand on the pond looking at the lotus, and how can I look out from the elegant charm of that point of loneliness and sadness? Just as I can not see through the world hidden behind the heart of the same sadness.

20, autumn color three, one point of flowers, two points of red dust. Fine taste, but the mirror a floating dream. Lone light, cold moon as frost, a few turns of the dream back to tears, such as watery autumn waves, micro lips gently open, a song of drunken people intestines. Spring has gone, autumn will end, holding hands in the wind and rain how miserable, geese return to the south, people have not returned, the depths of the fallen flowers rain. Looking back to the road, the night rain, light will be low call, but the original dream outside the dream a few silk misty, a few more sadness.

21, dyed in the heart of the poem, by whose figure upset the ink? Dwelling in the text of the pain, the insomnia cut! Tearful eyes gently knocking every corner of the diffuse night. The rain fell on the remnants of the cherry blossoms, such as the light promised countless times the oath, was a channel of the slanting sun painted into the color of blood, can not carry the burden of the promise, scattered in the cold moonlight, lonely and sad the end of the world.

22, life in the world, traveling in a hurry, rubbing shoulders, always meet. Meet will know each other, know each other after knowing each other, meet is the edge, know each other is the edge, know each other is also the edge. But fate is like a dream, fate is like the wind. If you can put it down, it is a good fate, and if you can't put it down, it will become a disaster. Thousands of turns, entangled and entangled, can not hide away from the end of the must come over, hide away from the coming and going with fate. The edge is not over, the love is still crazy, the heart is still jumping; edge has been, the heart is too tired, it is better to let go, each go something.

23, bear to do prosperous master, bear to listen to the prosperous song. The pain of love ignited another kind of loneliness, bumpy several generations of love will finally stop in the parting of the painting sadness, beautiful parting of the long shadow, pulling away from our distance, this bank, you are on the opposite side of the river, I can only greet you through the mist, you insisted on stepping on the point of my heart, and then leave.

24, day by day, with the cycle of spring, summer, fall and winter into who and who's funeral. Time passes a little bit, accompanied by rain, mist and sunshine change into the old photo album left behind the dust. I believe that this sunset and moonrise, moonrise and sunset drops, is its meaning. And I am just a small role in this scenery, also false and true. Endless years flow, only a trace of purity to set off the beauty of the wind candle years. The world is still very complicated, I only enjoy this quiet years.

25, time giants really all of a sudden on the old, one after another in the fall of the leaves fall, ruthless night is always will not feel the heartache, no matter how you struggle in this, still, the sky is still dark, as if the light giants once again run out of energy, the world will become dark again. Everyone has to set off again, running towards the sunshine of their respective tomorrows. We are the same.

26, who is wandering beside the road, who is waiting by the ancient road. A thousand years of looking back, a hundred years of loneliness. Loneliness who with, lonely who ****. The past life's shoulder rubbing, this life's meeting. Love dances in the wind, love plays in the rain. The once delusional, once confused, the dream has woken up with the wind. At this moment: love has no words, love has no sound. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty.

27, the water pavilion, continue the rain and dust of the long-standing relationship, a curtain Jinsei happy sad, green shirt by the wind and not know how to style. On the long sky broken song, cave xiao sound drunken crane chanting, heart brow spring blossoms, sweet red make-up molding shadow, painting bone clear rhyme, do not flatter the world of wind and clouds, gravel over the eyes between the laughs, bucket wine dipped in ink to tell the mind, love indistinct overlooking the sea, clouds rolled clouds and soothing, calm scenery a straight view of the curve, dust dance, tent tent between the sudden leap, pleasant posture!

28, the heart of the frank, walking memory chapters, flipping through the years of fragments, text in the tip of the flowering, wonderful once warm. The wind in the twilight listening to the wind, oblique sun waiting for the moon, with a wisp of prosperity as a dream, pull a wisp of love to sleep. The green dai smoke and rain, ink color Jiangnan, idly watching the moon white wind clear, but on the smoke and clouds of the flow of years. Cicadas on the strand are silent, to see the prosperity of the end of the fall, in the wind, pale the original intention. Faded crazy, faded madness, years in the forehead scratched a trace of shallow injury.

29, broken flowers all over the ground, the stars and moon fluorescent, a party of good people, pavilion and stand. 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. Drinking and talking about poetry, under the moon dancing sword, skillful woman, bold and passionate son. Once a few months, how can we not help the etiquette and discipline, need to taste the sorrow of parting? It is the love, can not resist the impermanence of the world, urge people to grow old.

30, the sky is far away, thinking about where to go. Love, not a mood, but a feeling. Often inexplicably lost, it is because there is a castle in the heart, there is a poignant fairy tale; often dazed, it is because there is a party in the heart of the sky, there is a touch of Qing Wan absolute beautiful silhouette; often quiet tears, it is because the tears are a kind of call, is a kind of heart-breaking shock.

31, if the heart is young, the years are not old, no matter how time flows, keep the heart of the season of spring flowers, in fact, we want. Happiness has always been in. If the sunset is infinitely good, why melancholy near dusk, missed the wind, we will harvest the rain; missed the summer flowers gorgeous, will certainly enter the autumn leaves quiet beauty.

32, the sun is very good, you look at me with a smile, said marry me. I thought I was so close to the sun that day. Time has changed, the years have smoothed out all the romantic, you still smile and say divorce, the day of the sunset is extremely beautiful? It turns out that time can smooth out everything, including the love that was once engraved in the heart?

33, the night color ties, throwing mottled broken shadow. The wind through the window, with a hint of cool, messed up a strand of long hair. Silk dots of fog dew, fluttering, scattered. Under the moon cycle, like a dream, lightly stepped on the half-moon of the cold, keep a world of clear, hand double back, light move step, sitting alone in front of the mirror weary of combing makeup. The warmth and coolness of the vegetarian, faceted, carved a paper monologue. 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.

34, the night snow dash, floating like a falling feather, a piece of a dozen, blooming in the Tang poetry and Song lyrics in the quiet beauty of the rhyme. The mist is dense, the moon is hidden, Tanya Rumi snow, whisking down a song of the spirit of the chorus, stacked rhyme, will be the ancient tenderness written into the moment of the snow petals. Tiredly rely on the window looking at the Qiongying, heart word **** who poured? Hao hand light frost test plum makeup, caressing a song sound slow, quietly listening to the sparse hedge smoke and rain sing through the drunken flower shade, diffuse look at the long days of light clouds play but phoenix xiao yin.

35, a blossom, a love, through the corridors of the season, transformed into a touch of dark incense, enchanting every morning and dusk, fragrant years, beautiful fingertips years. Folding a period of time, write a touch of fondness, grinding through the red dust sadness and happiness, around the brow of remorse, those with you with the past, is the depths of the red dust, the most affectionate singing.

36, a look a heartbeat, an unexpected happiness. I met you in the not flower season, you like the spring wind blowing wake me up palpitating heart, for my silent life, cast into a touch of splendor, any boiling thoughts powerless to block. When you hold this beautiful into the warm palm, your heart is also banging, for you to be intoxicated at this time.

37, a paper pale, a paper love blip, a paper falling flowers, a paper dream, a paper cold, a paper autumn water, a paper sadness, the next to, the guest road dream garden, the autumn moon in the sky; who is the red makeup and powder, pale a dream, autumn water often, falling flowers surprised dream? A cavity full of feelings, the piano moon half, look alone, the seer, the cold wind piercing the heart, hidden pain, singing to the wine, tears scattered dreams of the Yellow Springs, the ink, floating moonlight song, butterfly language leisurely, carrying the intention of the ghost.

38, with a smile, waiting for a spring breeze and rain; with the bright, a touch of sentiment to rely on, will be wispy thoughts, ò in the hair, called to do the Acacia buckle; will be touched by the little by little, collected in the heart, tied into a concentric knot, holding your hand, sniffing, the dark fragrance of life, you are, I am, the best know how is also in the life of the best of the time.

39, long than the eye, lingering look at each other. The love pulse, said in the morning and evening. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get a good look at you, but I'm sure I'm going to be able to get a good look at you. I'm so happy to see you, I'm so happy to see you. It's hard to talk about what I'm thinking. The orchid and the laurel are fragrant, the tortoise ages and the crane lives. I'll be with you for a long time," he said.

40. There are seven strings on the piano, the horn and the Gong Shang. The heart is in harmony, playing the phoenix. The first thing I want to do is to fly down and soar. The world's most important thing is to be able to see and hear what is happening. When I think of the future, I think of the future, I think of the future, I think of the future, I think of the future, I think of the future, I think of the future. The final song of the finger falls and the sound swells. The seven strings of the song are sounding, and the sadness of the sadness is still there.

41, there are mossy mottled memories as the trail dodges and comes, screw clouds green temples of the Jiangnan girl in the ink and fragrance, dancing with the feelings of the snow and butterfly feather style, the millennium of the poetic love of the old, just like my love, to a thin word and goblet of ancient poetry wantonly long ancient rhyme.

42, and your destiny, is the deepest remembrance of the flow of years, I use persistence and remorseless, write the pure beauty of love, the wind rose, I hid myself in a flower, in the shadow of loneliness, quietly think of you; rain fall, I put my heart in the poem, with the light ink, writing and your murmurings of the whispers, the watchfulness, is the end of the world of the idea, know each other, is the river of spring water of the love, that about the The story of the blossom, scattered a ground of fragrance, I do not want to pick up, let it along with the thoughts, drifting down to the light of your time.

43, distant mountains such as Dai, smoke and fog traces of lingering green Jiangnan, three paths of chrysanthemums along the ink curling light exhibition of traces of my heart, vine swings on the condensation of the woman, in the sunset in the sandwich road to pick up a mossy memories of the flow of the mossy season of the back.

44, Pavilion willow flute, such as autumn water singing. The flowers, like the wind, have no trace. With the fence quietly, light moon shadow shine vaguely, the past of the sordid singing Dongli. When the night is silent, the wind shakes the candle shadow red. The moonlight in the west wing of the window is bright, looking out of the deep courtyard of the sycamore tree, still can not escape the lonely locks of the autumn. Cool wind like water flowed, ripples point, swaying mind shallow, I hand lightly, peacefully listening to a falling flower murmuring sigh.

45, there are always some sentiments that have to be hidden, there are always some fragrance, lingering in the heart. Those days with the text to drink, and the heart of the day, let watch, into the most beautiful scenery. You read the pure white and softness of my heart, I pity your fragility and loneliness, love, is a flower in the dust, know, in the storm more see simple, and touched, in all the way to follow the warmth, full of abundance.