The cold night, very quiet, very quiet. I can hear the wind whistling outside the window, the train whistle ......
Lying alone in the cold quilt, the body curled up in a ball, the heart is constantly beating, tossing and turning, difficult to sleep.
I've been trying to cover up my thoughts about you, but the thoughts are like a full lotus pond, irreversibly flowing out, spreading into a rain of thoughts, flowing to you in the distance. Your smile, your greeting, in my mind swirls back and forth, lingering. The poems I wrote stained with the tears of the stars betrayed my mind to you in plain sight.
Maybe you'll laugh at me for being too naive, maybe you'll laugh at me for being too infatuated, maybe you'll laugh at me for being more ignorant. No matter what, my thoughts about you have increased.
Because you are a ray of sunshine in my life, you are the brightest star in the sky of my mind. In the world of love, I am a destitute woman, I long for your love. Your big heart, your broad shoulders, let me enjoy a little of your selfless love. Even for a few minutes can be, I hope you accompany me, think of me, love me ......
Want you no need to reason, think of you when the heart fell into a piece of the ocean. Toward the direction of the city where you are, silently praying, wishing you could know my bone-deep lovesickness, wishing I had a pair of wings to quietly fly to your.
In front of the window, looking at you at this time is thinking about me or sweet sleep? I want you to know that my thoughts of you, silk, lingering, gently shallow, layers and layers, true ......
Do you know? I'm not sure how much my heart hurts when I think about you! Just want to turn into a wisp of wind, suspended in the air, forever silently floating in your side, with you across the ocean, accompanied by you through the days and nights ......
Just like this in every cold quiet night thinking about you, calling out to you! I use the pen to write a poem for you, writing my . I'll write a poem for you with my pen, writing my thoughts about you. I hope that when the snow drifts, together with my poetry fly to your space.
Tears flow from the depths of my heart, my heart beats faster, wrapped tightly in a quilt, and once again, tears flowed, and I can't wait to let my heart and my footsteps across the city's night sky all the way to you. I want to tell you my thirst, to tell endless murmur of the heart, can not be transformed into ten thousand kinds of tenderness, a curtain dream, red candle residual fragrance ......
Cold winter night, love is just a tender loving roll in the sheer intoxication, my love as a short-lived flower quietly open, beautiful and desolate, lovesickness makes my heart ache for a few minutes, helplessness makes my tears and The thought of love makes my heart ache for a few minutes, and helplessness makes my tears thicken a few inches. But my heart is always flying in your direction ......
Tonight, I think of who
Tonight, I can't sleep, tonight, I also deliberately do not let myself fall asleep. Because I'm afraid that once I close my eyes, I won't be able to see your faint dream shadow, because I'm afraid that once I close my eyes, I won't be able to wait for your warm message. I'm not sure who I'm thinking of tonight, but I'm not sure who I'm thinking of.
Joy to the dance low willow building heart moon, music to the song all peach blossom fan low wind, who is still in the wine song, ask yourself life geometry? Who is still lifting the cup to invite the moon, since the captain drink to kill the sadness? In this said not to get drunk not to return this night, I still quietly leave the chairman, alone ran to the mix I grew up next to the creek, scooped up a handful of cool water, wet me this leaf half-drunken heart; blowing a song of the lingering Liangzhu, awakened my bending brow of the moon shyness. Let me call out to you again tonight in this spring night beside the brook, and let me think of you again in this spring night in the moonlight mist.
Once upon a time, in the school's diverse opinions in the wandering, can not find that in the moon fog in the lost signposts; once upon a time, in her people only words in the confusion, fan not move that in the confusion in the low-hanging wings; once upon a time, in their own wind and snow in the despair, can not see that piece of the sunshine sprinkled in June. Through wind and rain, all the way through the laughter, sobbing and crying; all the way forward, wandering; all the way through the success, failure. Meet with you, only to know love and love is a kind of feeling, sweet and bitter is a kind of taste. With your acquaintance, only to know is to think and read a kind of what kind of intolerable, wait and hope is a kind of what kind of torment.
Looking up at the thought of pulling round the round of the autumn moon, I am willing to be in the green days, write down my rain and clear still the story; waving his hand to wipe away the memory left behind that point of dust, I am willing to be in the most beautiful season, forgetting my sun and moonlight of the past, regardless of the warmth of spring and autumn, or summer summer heat and winter, I am willing to ...... Tonight, I am thinking of the Who?
Once, beautiful flowers, I only need the most inconspicuous one, and only want to chrysanthemums bloomed all over the western domain of the South Mountain, and you Lin Qingquan and chanting; once, flowers, I only need to be the most simple one, and only want to be in the dark fragrance of the sparse hedges of the moon, and you stepped on the snow and strolling. Unfortunately, day by day watch, see is 'water wind light, pinghua grow old', regret, night by night obsession, dream is 'moon dew cold, wu leaf floating yellow'. But I still can't forget the Zhuang Sheng dream butterfly, cuckoo cries blood of infatuation, can't forget the sinking fish and geese, the beauty of the closed moon and shy flowers.
Thoughts piled up into thick leaves, sentimental convergence into a babbling brook, pick up a few pieces of lost chrysanthemum petals, borrowing a few strands of the remaining plum fragrance. Tonight, I no longer wait for that side of the lonely net; Tonight, I no longer look at that piece of drunken moon starry sky. Open the web with spider silk, see how many helpless, how much sadness scattered in the years of the shuttle; into the dusty space, see how many past events floating in the days of rain and sunshine, how many sorrows. Oh, only heard the partridge crowing all over, only to see the fallen leaves full of garden ......
Your call awakened my silence, popped up the dialog box, you at the end, I'm at this end. The first thing I did was to look at your moving characters; listen to your affectionate greetings; and count the number of pieces of your idle sorrows that were falling. My sobbing has turned into the willow wind that blows on my face; my tears have condensed into the apricot rain that drenches my clothes. I'm not sure if you've ever been to a place where you've had a good time, but I'm sure you've had a good time.
At this moment,
The wind, never asked the fallen leaves to answer,
Why did you pass by, I want to cry;
The rain, never asked the original reason for the autumn,
Why did you pass by, I want to cry.
The answer lies in our speechlessness.
The answer is in our speechlessness.