Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Enjoy the joy of spring with you***
1.
A thousand red clouds and the time that cannot go back, talk to each other treasure. Whose song was borrowed by the fluttering clouds, fell into the mortal world, and crystallized into rain. The mirror flowers and water moon in the poem have broken many spiritual wings. It must know that your dreams can also fly, but there is no overlap between the dreams of young people and the dreams of pregnant girls.
You write down a line of soul's whisper, and give me a moment of tenderness. I stepped from the miserable winter snow into the vibrant spring. Cover your face and cry for the beauty and love abandoned by the poet. Your deepest loneliness comes from your gifts, because all the sorrow in life comes from joy. And people who are intimately involved in joy are more likely to be sad.
I can’t read the honesty of your soul, so I don’t have to face your loneliness, and I don’t have to apologize to you. However, I misread your poem. Originally I should have waited in silence, but instead I answered with a song. When I miss the warm language of a flower and trace the snowy dream in a dream, where are you chasing an elusive mirage?
If I have misunderstood your loneliness, please forgive me for my honesty. I want to sit in your spring and draw a pair of bright eyes on a piece of wet rice paper. From now on, I will drink and talk happily with you at the end of the world and the spring that is just around the corner.
2.
The world is still good, and I depend on you. The world imitated in my poems is no more profound than your dreams. Is there always a person in this world who can be awakened by your deeply buried memories without you having to travel far, just sitting close by on a spring day? He is like a star in the vast starry sky, but he has gained a profound peace because of the changes he has experienced over the years.
A tree grows along its nature, looking forward to a happy tomorrow. I hold a spring lantern, walk on the mirror of my soul, sit on the stars, and listen to the tranquility of birdsong. Your human world, under the caress of the annual rings, silently loves and rejoices with the lonely soul. My starry sky is like a mermaid plunged into the deep sea, looking for the only lighthouse and swimming freely.
My world is so small, only my soul is with me all the way. The smoke and rainbow in my hometown are like last night's stars. I imagine a pair of white wings can hold them and fly. Imagine that the fleeting poems will not be modified by the hurried light years, set off on time, spread your wings and fly high towards the doomsday sun.
Has anyone ever had a conversation with God? At least I have never been close to God. I have been lost in a foreign land, witnessing the changes in reality, the law of the jungle and the strong, and intrigues. The beauty of the past could not withstand the cruelty of reality and disappeared. The lake in the old years was like an orchid boat floating in the sea, filled with the joys and sorrows of the world, sailing in the wind. Reach out and you can no longer rely on it.
Is there a ray of light that can illuminate my night and burn my world into day? Is there a kind of love that is eternal and remains silent and joyful in my world? A walking poet rarely looks back, just like his former home that is drifting away, sooner or later it will become a vague mark in your life. When you step towards a city, the next stop becomes the past. When you are obsessed with the eternity of time, the joy and sorrow that you shed will not be shorter than a drop of tears.
3.
A lonely lake cannot hold a pair of soulless oars. The vast memory, trekking through the wind and rain, brings the amnesiac wanderer back to reality from his dream. In my April, magnolias bloom and fall red all over the ground. Is the title page of your soul stained with the tears I shed in my dreams, moistening the few words I wrote to you?
The wind at dawn brings the message of spring. Every flower blooming ceremony is a late beauty. How many people write spring poems in loneliness, but they can't retain more joy, only a touch of sadness. And how many people in this world can listen quietly to the joys and sorrows of their souls? I would like to live in the fragrance of a flower, looking forward to the grand ceremony in the coming year and the eternity of the moment.
The road signs of life all point to the past. Your eyes travel through lost dreams, returning from a poem about falling rain to the wet last night. Every star embraces a lost soul. And every sunset, I am looking for the star that belongs to me in the world.
How lonely the cold world is, how crowded my life is.
Who is it that took away the bright flame from the poet's body, buried the ashes of the soul in the verses of the coming year, and projected my wave heart? I am determined to compose peach blossom as a spring poem, and call falling red as the front edge. I only wish that more moonlight, carrying lanterns with stars, would light up the only light in the dark night for me.
If you call time life, then years of sorrow will live in the empty wilderness. How hasty your steps are, how monotonous your life will be. The lotus you drew in the poem has already grown into a lovely and lovely shape. But my love has been ground into the blush on your cheeks by the endless time, turning attachment into the smoke of the world, dissipating with the wind.
4.
The smoke from my hometown spreads across the legendary horizon, exchanging glasses with a collection of fragrant words. The old friends who have returned home gather together the wonderful memories that have lasted for many years, implant their attachment and hope for their hometown into the ribs of the night, and sing the unchanging fragments of this life in the light that never closes their eyes. I saw that my shadow, together with my poems, turned into the smoke of my hometown, planting the seeds in my former home in this life.
I love moonlight and all paranoid beauty. When the day goes by, you hold bright fireworks and stroll through my world. Those words that meet by chance are lingering and fragrant, holding the wasted years and weeping. My dreams have never gone far, but your dreams are too far away from me. How can I kiss your dreams and cuddle up with you in your dreams?
If time had not gone far, would those sleeping waves flow in each other's hearts? The vast starry sky stirs up the dust of my former residence, but cannot sustain a single word of fate. The poems in your dreams have never allowed the real poems to grow in your spring. Where will those quatrains that have never bloomed hibernate?
The aphasic man in the wind staggers away carrying a lantern in the dark night. I hug myself tightly and give my soul over. Do you know that I have been living in a dreamland of flowers in the mirror and moon in the water, following the steps of spring, hoping for the next sunny day. However, the sunny day you promised me was nowhere to be seen. I can only spread a piece of brocade paper and draw an eternal sunny day for myself. Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Meeting you at the ferry of mortal world
Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Meeting you at the ferry of mortal world
The moonlight is all over the city, the dark fragrance fills the sleeves, and the night of lovesickness is so lonely. It's long, the tranquility of the moon and the mist of tea add a bit of poetry. My thoughts bloom quietly in the clear moonlight. Sitting at the window, a touch of gentle moonlight infiltrates the bookcase, and a silhouette of the curtain makes the quiet night beautiful. Sitting in the tranquility of the music, picking up a pen and ink, smelling the fragrance and sipping tea, my heart is filled with a warm taste, and the fragrance of jasmine spreads along the veins and every inch of my skin. The soft melody carries the fragrance of the words directly to the soul. It is recited under the pen, slowly and slowly, like pure spring water overflowing the paper. Just like this, quietly in the depths of time, savoring the joy alone, thinking lightly, writing down the landscape and affection in your heart, every word is precious, every sentence is deeply affectionate, and the heart that is missing you, can you feel it?
Facing the west window, watching the moon rise and set, and listening to the wind passing by the cornice. My heart was quiet at that time, so quiet that I could clearly hear the beating of my heart and the commotion of my blood. I miss you in this quiet winter night; I miss you in this lingering moonlight. Sit under a quiet moonlight, put your affectionate words into words, use the ink of longing to stretch under the pen, and gently read your thoughts in the quiet night. Missing you is like a flower walking freely, and a warmth will rise in my heart, just like sitting around a red stove, inexplicably thinking of your name, mumbling words, and feeling hot in my heart. The fragrant petals of heart bloom on the road of the heart, turning into the melting moon on the sky, sending you tenderness and driving away the fatigue all over your body.
Thousands of miles of smoke, suddenly looking back, how many lingering thoughts flowed gently with the moonlight, clear and transparent in the entanglement. Fate, turning mountains, rivers and pagodas, meeting in this life is the most beautiful, flowers bloom for a season, warm to tears. In the misty rain and mortal world, you are on the other side, and I am on this side, painting a landscape and planting a curtain of lingering dreams. The lingering love is fluttering like wings, and the treasure falls in the palm of your hand. You care, cherish, and are in my heart. My soft heart is looking forward to it in the coolness. I trace it again and again in my heart, and it becomes the mountain in my heart and the water in my heart. No matter how far the road is, it feels like it's just around the corner. The happiness is fleeting, the graceful eyebrows are smiling, and the thoughts are boiled in water. The rice paper is the proof, the pen and ink are the evidence, and the fragrance of the paper is gazed at.
The clock is ticking, passing by second by second, expressionless, neither slow nor hasty. The most beautiful time is the fragrance blooming in the crook of the eyebrows, and a flower filling the air in the wind. With a delicate fragrance, the light and elegant white color dances lightly with the sound of flowing wind. A window of deep love, recalled tenderly, fades out a touch of poetry in the clear and sparse shadows, gently spreads, and then quietly folds up, expressing a word, splashing a line of ink rhyme, falling in love with a city, all-consuming tenderness. Turn your thoughts into trickling water, flowing in the words; turn thousands of emotions into scattered stars, dotted with moonlight in the night sky. In the quiet night, only the missing heart is still jumping for joy, not feeling sleepy. Let the fragrance of tea linger, the room is full of fragrance, and a heart lingers deep in the words, because there is you, me, and love here.
The years are clear and light, and the time is fleeting. There are thousands of knots in the heart, traveling through the contours of time and space, spreading out the plain paper of memory, and picking up the bits and pieces of life. Going around a lifetime of encounters, there is a red smile on the stone steps of fate. Thousands of miles apart, we are strangers in the world, a word of fate, a heart-to-heart encounter, the sun is shining, the spring is warm and the flowers are blooming. The heart and soul embrace love in the depths of time, turning into the rhythm of the heart and the whisper of the wind, slowly turning up a curtain of dreams. The hearts of the world are attached to each other, and the slender fragrance condenses. The fate in life blossoms into blossoms. flowers, lightly overflowing with your fragrance. When I encounter a warmth, the cold air is also filled with the breath of spring, which is warm, warm and quiet. When the words hit my heart, there is still a clear spring, flowing slowly, calmly, but most affectionately. With the original intention, stay together day and night. The time infused with the fragrance of ink is elegant and charming. Calm the soul in the deep soul and give the soul a home to return to.
Time passes beautifully, and years pass by. How much light is light on the fingertips; how many years are flowing in the pen; how much prosperity is still prosperous after the flowers have bloomed and withered; in the world of fireworks, there is a you who is willing to stop chasing for me and meet me in the color of the water. In the passing years, bathing in the clear dew of the moonlight, I whisper my original intention into a song. Put the thread of your heart in the palm of the years, gaze, and depict the broken thoughts in your heart into paintings under the most beautiful pen tip. In this life, I will only be the only tie in your heart, treat you with sincerity towards the moon, and treat you with tenderness. Listen to the murmur of the wind in the time, let me write poems and paintings in your palm, and have sex with you. Water ends of the earth. You promise me a lifetime of happiness, and I promise you a lifetime of warmth.
Flowers bloom for several seasons and fall for several seasons. Time is unconsciously wrapped around the years. We shuttle through it, coming and going, in and out. With the greenery of spring, the warmth of summer, the golden color of autumn, and the coolness of winter. You will definitely be able to find your own piece of heaven. Smiling with warmth, being grateful for meeting, and moisturizing the fingertips. These days spent together are also wonderful in life. Let the dense feelings of ink and wash flow with the initial touch, on this shore and the other shore, hidden in the heart. Gratitude, time does not grow old, you are well, I am still the same. Some destined fates will always meet at the destined ferry in the world of mortals. Come or not come; see or not see, all in that loving heart, it warms all the vicissitudes of life's journey. Let all the joy and tranquility bloom into blossoming crimson poetic rhymes, a frame of fleeting whispers, clear feelings of glass, one thought of warmth, and then the fragrance.
Thinking of someone is a sweet hope, exaggerating the depth of love like the sea, and the words of longing wander in the heart. The hand I can't hold, can feel the tenderness, the face I can't see, but I can feel your smile. Dreams are like cicada clothes, hearts are like glass, the colorful world is bathed in romantic feelings; in the mountains and rivers of fate, melodious piano music is played; in the changes of seasons, the fragrance of wine encountered by chance is considered, and there is a mellow brewing, which is a kind of Waiting intoxicatedly, never too late or too late, to dream of an eternal and unchanging country. I wish to act according to my heart, allow time to last forever, allow me to be calm and relaxed in a pure world, and wait for the years to cut out a piece of beauty for me and weave a beautiful scene of my time. Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Spending the softest time with you***
Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Spending the softest time with you***
Summer is like the trade wind, kiss again A passionate season, summer is like sowing seeds, and sowing another kind of green. Summer is like a mission, making the flowers of spring mature. I like this kind of time, bright and poetic. Just like the spring that just passed, so many flowers have made an appointment to bloom together, exuding a fragrance of suitable depth and light, which makes people intoxicated. Listening to the whispers of insects and birds, absorbing the fragrance of flowers blooming and dying, quietly savoring the mixed flavors of life, in the gentle and quiet early summer, a fresh and free happiness spreads lightly.
The most beautiful season in the world, when all the greenery in life grows under the warm sun, all the flowers compete for beauty, and everything you encounter is full of warmth.
In the quiet night, the moonlight was as soft as water, floating gently through the window and shining on my bed curtains. Suddenly, the room added tenderness and romance, and a little more room for imagination. Sitting quietly in the embrace of the night, I stay in my desire to miss you, and you stand in my thoughts. The wind is flowing, I hold a handful of rose petals in the wind and put it in the palm of my hand, letting the colorful beauty dye the sky for you and me red, and thinking about the scenery of the street in the distance makes people feel warm. I long to breathe the same air as you and look at the scenery you see every day. That kind of attachment, that kind of care, breeds a smiling rose. The swaying fragrance of the flower takes my thoughts flying in the scenery with you, wandering around you, making longing become my most beautiful scenery.
Holding a cup of dense tea in my hand, the fragrance of the dense tea is full of tranquility. I boil your figure in the tea, savor the taste of tea and longing for you, set off the care, walk through the branches of the years, Sow the seeds of deep love for a lifetime, and plant the seeds for a lifetime of waiting. Love will eventually fall from the snow to the dust, and then a flower will bloom in the dust. This flower of love, pinned to your chest, will always carry fragrance on your clothes. When the years have dried up its beautiful appearance, what remains is the most vast and profound. Walking quietly in the kingdom of words, a piece of paper records the encounter of three thousand poems, full of colored glaze. Every warm word and every heart-warming chapter flows with an unforgettable story. It is painted with the color of a rose with the flowing colors of life, and the poetry of the flower fragrance gradually becomes a poem.
A bright moon hangs in the sky, adding a silvery light to the hazy night. The tender picture slowly unfolds, and the lingering past is the eternity of memory. Every wisp of tea fragrance, every lonely flower blooming, is the flow of my love. The moonlight is like the sea, projecting on the heart waves, there are ripples, deep intoxication, and unknown thoughts lingering in the eyes. At this time, silence is better than sound. How to entangle it, it trickles into the heart. Pour a cup of autumn thoughts, drink the drunkenness of the night, drink the fascination of the wind, drink the charming feeling between my eyebrows when I miss you. Everything is destined to be a reunion after a long separation, a testimony of love that grows with time, and is destined to be filled with the fragrance of jasmine, making it unforgettable.
The moonlight is like water, tender and sweet, and the vast horizon is as pale as a painting. When I look back, I smile like a happy flower, with deep affection between my eyebrows. The thoughts of morning bells and dusk drums shuttle through the clouds, swaying the glass into a quiet and beautiful color. I stop and look at the long sky, with the fragrance floating in the sky. I lean on the railing and let the moonlight kiss away my thoughts. This shore and the other shore, thoughts are hidden in my heart. Deep in the fleeting years, the water flows slowly. Your love for me is as warm as the spring breeze, as crazy as the summer rain, as stubborn as the autumn flowers, and as fragrant as the winter plums. You understand my loneliness when the flowers fall, you understand the tears in my eyes, and you understand my unswerving love. A flower in one's heart, supported by two hearts, a piece of paper filled with the fragrance of ink and intoxicating love. This kind of understanding is compassion and the beauty of the harmony between life and death and the theory of Zicheng.
In gentle times and simple days, pick a branch of red flowers, pick up a piece of spring scenery, take it home, and insert it into a bottle. I hope the pleasant fragrance of the flowers will intoxicate my thoughts and let me use it. Tenderness like water protects this spring flower. Recite a piece of time farewell book, line by line, shallow and deep, and the intricate lines embroider the brocade of the years. I have seen the most beautiful red sunset, I have seen the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, I have seen the deep red fall all over the path, time stays on the old threshold of acquaintance, my eyes are full of longing, I continue to write a paragraph of the sun and moon in my hand, the light and shadow in my pen, ripples Circles, walking through the various styles. The writing is shallow, the fragrance of ink is faint, the person is far away in the world, and the heart is close at hand. You are the hometown that I care about all my life. You are the tenderness that I can't describe. I give birth to charm for you, and I shed dust for you.
The flowers on Moshang are enchanting, full of fragrance and affectionate. Thoughts are like flowers, clear and fragrant, refreshing and gentle in the passing years. The thoughts of the spring breeze are swept away to summer. That is your subtle reminder, the gentleness that stretches over time and caresses my heart. Or, take the thoughts of a pink peach blossom and sneak into a curtain of dreams on a summer night. The quiet and good years carry the red paper of lovesickness, and the years are written to write down the love of a lifetime, letting the sincere voice flow through the pen, and the simple words spread gently. A warm and fragrant relationship, a tender lifelong attachment to each other, the lingering love ripples in the intoxicating laughter, moisturizing the mind and being drunk and moved. Qingqing Zijin, my heart is long, only for you, I still miss you. Words flow through the years, drunkenly embrace the wind and moon, you are the encounter of my life, you are the love of my life.
If the heart is there, the dream is there. If the love is there, the love will last forever. If there is love in the heart, it will be a sunny day!
Cut out a period of soft time, plant the fragrance of your heart, and in that faint smile, flowers of longing will bloom. Then, in the silence of my heart, I counted the bits and pieces left by the years, and what touched my heart was not only the falling red petals, but also the treasured touch of warmth. Maybe, in this life, all the waiting is just for a promise from the end of time; maybe, in this life, all the feelings are just for a look back. What touches my heart is not only the falling red petals, but also the treasured touch of warmth. From then on, the days were cut into paragraphs, and each paragraph was related to you, and there would be thoughts about you, passing through the lintel of time and space, and falling quietly in my tender heart.
Summer is not only a romantic season, but also a dreamy season. In the dream, there is your smile and my dependence; there is the green shadow of the wind and the appearance of the flowers; there is the crystal clear water and the bright light. In the season with you, the heat of summer disappears; in the season with you, my love flies in the romantic clouds and the meticulousness of eternal articles.
The road is long and the water is long, sometimes it is flat, sometimes it is overlapping mountains, sometimes it is clear breeze and bright moon, sometimes it is foggy. Along the way, we all need the care and nourishment of Nuan. We should rely on Nuan to travel to the depths of the years, because the meeting of two people is the blooming of warmth. I have seen the warmth and coldness of the mortal world, I have admired the spring flowers for ten miles, and I have transformed into a scene with you, and I have become a painting with age.
Love is ordinary life, and you can feel its tears and laughter. They are so real and sad, so beautiful and joyful. By the Meishi River, you came with a wisp of dark fragrance and sang songs. By the magpie bridge, I held a wisp of bright red and walked against the water. I know your heart and accept your female love. Deep in the chaos of red, I interpret a true and peaceful love. , living an ordinary life of Su Jin. The persistence and warmth brewed romance, and the ink fell on the city, intoxicating the whole Jiangnan. What is tranquil is the warmth of blooming flowers, what is refreshing is the faded darkness of intoxication. Let's have a drink together, let's enjoy the full moon and the chrysanthemums on the east fence. Then, put it down carefully, be happy with a cloud, worry with a tree and flower, as big as a mountain, a river, a river; as small as a porridge, a meal, a mat and a quilt. We never get tired of looking at each other and never get tired of seeing each other. Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Flowers bloom for you
Romantic and beautiful love letter sample: Flowers bloom for you
The night is fading, the moonlight is shining, the curtains are fluttering, the heart is blowing, and I have a thought. Tingshu stretches through the dust of the heart and looks at the soul silently. Looking at the lights on the other side in the distance, I stick to my posture and remain unchanged forever. Fingers tap the keyboard gently, and the crisp sounds collide in the space. Listen to the words talking under the fingers. In the dead of night, silently take them out to recall, a bit cool; a bit warm; a bit concerned; a bit Share sadness. After brewing a cup of coffee, the aroma of coffee suddenly filled the air and seemed to drift into my heart. A feeling emerged spontaneously. At this moment, I miss you.
The time is clear and the years are peaceful. Meeting you made me understand the beauty of the mountains and rivers, and the thought of you is just as I write. A beautiful encounter, a scene full of lingering memories from the past. Because of you, my world has a vibrant dynamic; because of you, my world has a wonderful and romantic picture; because of you, my world has a thriving greenery. In my heart, the sun is shining brightly; on days with love, my eyes are full of greenery. I am grateful for the fate and all the wonderful encounters. Naturally, the warmth is long-lasting, and every day is soft and good. I come because you are here. There is always an unexpected appointment coming quietly, there is always a silent blessing for you, and there is always the joy of being dependent on you and filling the journey of life.
, have a tacit understanding with each other, appreciate each other, cuddle up with each other in the scattered years, and express their hearts in the boundless words. The fusion of heart and heart is better than a thousand words in the world; the bonding of soul and soul can withstand any difficulties and obstacles. Come to think of it, there is a kind of encounter, not on the road, but in the heart. There is a kind of scenery not in the distance, but in the heart. The blooming of flowers brings out the charm of a poem, and the waxing of the moon completes the cycle of reincarnation. The understanding of the soul is the highest state of deep love. Across thousands of rivers and mountains, we can feel each other's heartbeats. We are far away from each other, but we can touch each other's temperature. I believe in the magic that comes from love. And mystery is eternity.
All the love in the world is due to the beauty of seeing it for the first time.
You came to my dream, and I lived in your heart. Even if time changes, the traces, like the faint fragrance growing deep in the soul, will not dissipate with the smoke and clouds. A kind of acquaintance has long been sealed in my heart, even if the wind and rain come. Attack, still never give up, I believe that every season, there is always a beautiful flower blooming, with fragrance overflowing, color like a butterfly, carrying a wisp of fragrance at the intersection of life, fragrant the past. I reached out and touched the spring light of the words. The golden light spread to my heart, making me feel warm and intoxicating. A feeling is blended into the gentleness of poetry, and a blend of understanding is blended into the bright red of love, bit by bit, dyed into the ink. A thought arises, a thought falls, a stroke is long, a stroke is short, I pick up the poem and fall into a dream, warm the paper to draw, the fragrance of the poem is long, and a dream lasts for thousands of years.
The encounter between the pens beautifully graces the time on the paper, and the fate of the blooming flowers falls on my poems. First love blooms between the lines, and as soon as two similar souls hold hands, the time between their fingers is amazing. Living in the season of flowers blooming, letting the mood be immersed in the subtle fragrance of encounter, letting the time turn green and red, cold and warm, only injecting deep feelings into the eternity of poetry and dreams. The moon is waxing and waning, the flowers are blooming and falling again, and the love of love is writing poems on the Internet. I think, at this moment, you may be sleeping in a quiet dream, enjoying the sweetness of flying flowers in your dream. And I just want to use some simple and profound words to turn my lonely words into sentences, the fragrance of my heart into a song, and whisper my endless thoughts. Falling in love with the alluring city, falling in love with the alluring city, getting involved in the fleeting years, alluring fireworks, thoughts flying, thousands of simple words, looking forward to a harmonious harmony.
Looking at the starry sky, the moonlight falls softly in front of the window. It is as clear, quiet and beautiful as water, and the moonlight dances gently outside the window. My thoughts pass through the gauze skirt of the night, and a gentle flute sound lingers in the night sky. Those scattered thoughts are fragrant and spread between the lines, placing those gentle moments in the flatness, and flowing those simple words and mantras in the ink. Gently hide your tenderness in the fragrance of Zen. There's a hint of bitterness there, but also a warm flavor. Across the distance, we have walked together step after step. There is a kind of encounter, among thousands of people, just one glance is the reunion of eyes and eyes; it is the interdependence of heart and heart. A flower blooms and a love passes through the corridor of the seasons and transforms into a faint fragrance, enchanting every morning and dusk. You are beautiful poems, silent words, and slow time. You are a painting, a feeling, and a deep-seated love.
The smiles of the years are jumping at the fingertips, and with the gentle sound of your footsteps, I use the most affectionate strokes to write you into my dream, and use a lifetime of watching to compose the most beautiful and touching moments in life. Melody and chapter. Singing a longing as before, the dreams are filled with tenderness and affection, possessing the tranquility and clarity of a heart-shaped lake, alone among the thousands of scenery, letting the flowers of longing faintly fragrant in the breeze, letting the warm feelings linger Deep in the soul, we depend on each other gently. Let the words comfort the pale soul, and let the beauty of encounter blossom quietly in the heart. With a touch of fragrance in my heart, I feel the gentleness of the breeze blowing on my face. The time when the grass and trees are dependent on each other is like the spring scenery of flowers blooming on the street. It is neither pretentious nor charming. It softens the distance on the paper and diffuses the tacit understanding of the words written among the flowers. .
?The communication of love does not lie in the moment of meeting, but in the eternal communication. The closeness of heart to heart does not depend on the distance, but on the touching of the soul. If we know each other, we can understand each other tacitly without saying much. If we love each other, we can wait for each other for a long time without commitment. With a pen full of affection, I will engrave you in a dream, singing softly to the timeless tune. You have given me so many touches in my life. Despite the high mountains and long rivers, the obsession buried deep in the memory is still clear, rippling in the red, fat, green and thin seasons, blooming with the brightness of beautiful mountains and clear waters. In the misty rainy south of the Yangtze River, gracefulness becomes the sound of nature. Boiling clean water for a period of time will weave a tree full of flowers, and the drums and bells at dusk and morning will wait for you, the oath of never leaving; a lifetime of love and tenderness, in exchange for a lifetime of mutual affection.
Longing always grows in the dark, lush and green. You will always be the song in my heart, the lines of poetry in my ink, and the deepest arrival in my dreams. Life is just a passer-by, but if I can meet you, this journey will no longer be in vain. Because of you, I imagine your city, the eternal Jiangnan, sparkling with ripples of fairy tales, tenderness and confusion among the water and mountains, and scorching flowers among the smoke and clouds. Let it sing softly all the way in the tunnel of time, and spread and flourish all the way in the long river of life. Tonight, I will lend you the moonlight glass to give you boundless warmth, drive away the coldness of the years, and accompany you quietly in the depths of my heart. I don’t say how long, I just miss you all over the place. Only you can understand, holding a plain pen. , only you are my thoughts, a note of loneliness, boundless wind and moon, chewing on our vows for three lifetimes, writing the eternal love that warms life.
Your smile over the years leaves behind lovesickness, shining with the warmth of love. Carve your name in my heart, waiting for a smile to bloom, waiting for you thousands of miles away to send warm whispers Ferry over. Then I hold the hand of the years with you, walking through the sun and the moon, through the wind and frost. Even if the time is wasted, I am still willing to be the person who spent the time and returned home. In the eyes of time, I am filled with the love for you. Year after year. In the world of mortals, there is a kind of tacit understanding called heart-to-heart connection, a kind of longing called lingering in the soul, and a kind of long-lasting love called never lose, never forget. I twist the fullness of the moonlight into poetry, and allow me to accompany you lightly across the distance of a moon. Red dust. No matter how cold the wind and the road are, no matter how old we are. Borrow a wisp of breeze as a pen, condense a drop of flower dew into the ink, and write small characters as silk as water. Overlap and show lovesickness, passing through the curtain of dream, melodious and lingering, affectionate and tender.