Like the words with the word "first", always feel that it contains the purity and abundance, from a glance at the first sight, to the unrepentant first heart, and then to the first snow outside the window, every word in the eyes of, with love, every rhyme, with rhyme, hidden beauty.
The word "first heart", it must be hidden in the shy eyes of a young girl, the beauty of that, so that you go a long time light, still can not forget the name of a person, the pure and quiet, crystalline, such as the first snow in winter. The first snow if you fall into the past, after the mountains and water, separated by a once, those peach red willow new picture, has not been too much color tone, only white, cool a heart, can meet, has been mercy.
When the snow falls, do not ask the initial place of origin, and the ultimate return, leaving only a wisp of coolness, written into a poem of plum reflecting the snow, in the life of the cold and fragrant, as a feast, hidden from the bustle, and finally met, that the original self.
Waiting for you, at the beginning of the place, often think, this sentence must be involved in a story. This end of the story, is the long, long rainy alley, the end of the alley, is holding an umbrella girl, and the middle of the alley, is separated from the long, long thoughts.
Meeting is in blossom, a hundred feet of red dust, only for one person to comb the first makeup, ò long hair, and wash all the lead, your pretty face, such as the flower branches half cover the face, had decorated my dream, the depths of a hundred flowers, the only one to fold a branch to hide the heart, open a year, fall a year, sitting in the twilight, think of the old days, sing a song of the old more forgettable, only to forget the acacia, the beginning of the love, enough to withstand the time of the shallowness of the time.
Memory of the peach red and white, if after years of bleaching, one day has become simple, such as a wash and wash cotton and linen clothes, is so appropriate and warm, will be elegant don't in the lapel, there is no look forward to wearing the high expectations of the period, there is no one day not see such as three autumns of missing, only think of your good.
If, time and light is a cut, then turn mountain and water, all the people who missed, one day are able to reunite, all the mistakes, one day will be the original cool, then you and I, can still go back to the beginning?
Life is like the first time you see me, the sun reflects my face, the petals hide the dark fragrance, the joy in your eyes, such as dewdrops trembling in the petals, play a song of the strings of the soulmate, I compose a song to come, and you to and, capture a piece of tenderness to decorate the clouds of the shyness, laughter and the dark fragrance of the go.
Separated from the time flying snow, each heart has a window of thoughts, reflecting the appearance of Irena; have written a poem about the spring, those affectionate passages, had a stroke of depiction, the beauty of knowing each other. About the first sight, always superimposed on the melancholy, perhaps, all the world's bombardment, can not be compared to a just in time, but who said, the beauty of fate must be accompanied by night and day? In the most beautiful moment of my life, I have seen you, a smile of ten thousand ancient spring eyes, in my love such as the beginning of the new month to open, met the white jade wins the snow of you, so, has been just right.
Buddha said, the previous life of five hundred years of looking back, only in exchange for a rubbing shoulders in this life, then in this life, you happen to come, I happen to be in, must be the previous life to repair the good fruit , then in this life and all the years with you, are the best arrangements of fate.
If you are willing, I would like to spring water to decorate your ageless face, if you are willing, I would like to use snowflakes to render your flowing silk, perhaps this life, we have been meeting, can meet with you,
is the most beautiful in my life a blossom.
I want to cook tea for you only in this life, only for you to write poems, and then, waiting for you to send me a grand winter, cook a cup of tea, in the warm tea, watching the first snow fall to the deepest part of the red dust, with a thin pen, copying the appearance of the first time I saw you, warm pot of wine, singing a song of the soul of the Brahmansong, drunk in the light of the time with you.
On a piece of paper, write some long and short sentences, if there is a paragraph of small words to let you remember once, then it will not fail me to your devout waiting; cut a memory, weaving a destiny of the clothes, if there is a stitch, so that you feel the warmth, that is, my unchanging tenderness and attachment.
Folding a branch of flowers, waiting for you, on the road in the spring, although the winter has just come in full costume, I will yearn for such a mood, long years, there is a road, can still pass in front of your window, there is a dash of moonlight, can be with you to enjoy the same piece of flower fragrance?
As if all the thoughts, with the snowflakes fell into the winter. Because away from the clamor, the world, the world is silent, that miss, it seems so true, if there is a flower can remind people of the first time, think of love, I think, that is the snowflakes, snowflakes like butterflies, fly through the sea, but has been able to fly into a person's heart, as long as a low-eyebrow, that a piece of pure white, with the snow fell into the toes, the appearance of a person fell into the curtains, so that the heart of the heart of the flooding a piece of ripples, and the snow is the only thing that can be done. The first thing I want to do is to make sure that I have a good understanding of what I'm talking about.
Nostalgia once secluded intersection, those lips red teeth white time, nostalgia for those, red cherry green, banana past, some things, some people, can not be said, can not forget, but is treasured, suddenly there is a person can think, even in winter, the heart, is also loaded with a spring.
When the snowflakes flying all over the sky, I am in the far north, for you to write poetry, rubbing three points of thoughts, write two points of thoughts, more is dense in the heart of know. If I am a snowflake also want to close to your heart and chest, dancing in your palm, because there you are, time will become my favorite model.
The first heart if snow, snow Run red dust, there are always some met, stunning the flow of years, but can not tender each other's lives, perhaps the beauty of the world have a fixed number, when you are just right, I am young, the flow of the years, the past has fallen a dust, but still beautiful and vivid.
Xu Donglin said, life, footprints deep through a person, this life will be stained with his voice, no matter how many years this person and you have not seen, and how many streets and how many cities across you, as long as the memory, still so close, because, are in time.
Love a person, will wait in the initial place, you come or do not come, I am waiting for you, any time far away, I treat you, only as the first sight.