1
The wind blew over the hills. Grassland, wild flowers, reeds, Moon Bay, overnight, cut off the dense blue, dyed themselves with the blue of the highlands.
From the first snow of that year, Lan filtered the rough parts, extracted all the background colors of life, plated them on colorful prayer flags, floated on Zhuo Ma's skirt, splashed on the tail of Moon Bay, and hung them on the book of songs on the grassland.
In the vast expanse, it is blue.
In purification, it is a quiet ocean.
Blue, refining the aura of Shan Ying, singing short songs and exulting on the earth;
Drain the clarity of the plateau, play the flute and stretch in the wilderness;
Broaden the horizon of the river, cook a pot of highland barley and drink it in the Gobi;
Add oil and vinegar to the wild flowers, moisten a-mei's eyes and watch at dusk;
Dip in the magnificent mountains, outline the outline of brothers, and move forward in the watch.
Blue, full-bodied, collecting seeds falling in spring in winter;
The intimate thoughts, the wishes made by kowtowing step by step, are solemnly watched;
Seek the love of the soul and gently protect the god crawling on the ground.
Wrapped in plain clothes, borrowed a centimeter of wind and exiled in the depths of white clouds.
Strong alcohol muddy wine, with a centimeter of light, intoxicated in the folds of grassland.
Take away a ray of green, borrow a centimeter of dawn, and stand into a tall and straight tree.
A clear spring in my hometown, with a centimeter of dew, holds the blue of Qian Shan.
2
Just like this blue, it covers the stain under the shadow, removes redundant adjectives and leaves real stability.
Holding out the clear eyes under Cyclobalanopsis glauca, I walked lightly, flushed, and walked leisurely towards me.
The second you came back, blue was lazy and blurred, gathering thousands of proverbs and loving books.
At the moment when your eyebrows droop, blue is alienated and close, shaking off your aura, hidden and autumn books.
At the moment when you look up, you are blue and affectionate, covering the growing enthusiasm, distant and plateau books.
three
Your blue, without the texture of amber, is as smooth as satin.
Your blue has gone through the vicissitudes of the past, making the wind and rain cloudy and polishing the bright texture.
On the plateau with empty mountains after the rain, collectively read your yellowed epic and meditate on this book of winding mountains and rivers.
Through the wild flowers and hills, you reconcile the colors of the years, look back and interpret the poems that are dormant in your heart.
You take a gentle knife and cut and paste the blue flowing in your blood along the ups and downs of your body. Some of them are lightly placed on the rocks on the cliff, some are rooted in the whistle of clouds, some are exiled in the whistling mountain wind, and some are flowing in the whistle of cattle and sheep.
four
These hidden blues are the soul of the grassland, wearing clothes as thin as cicadas, walking close to the ground and flying to the sky.
These virtual and real blues are the light of the earth, maintaining the elegance in the Book of Songs, and reaching the elegance in the depth of artistic conception with warm temperament.
These pure blues are the initial dreams, with spotless love, all the way to the other side where you stand.
five
You, look closely and look far away. This book of mountains and rivers is amazing because of your blue color.
You, in a quiet place, smear the night, and this eyebrow moon softens the years because of your blue.
You, under the dim light, have a soothing heart, and the tall and straight mountains are magnificent because of your blue.
Above the blue sky, the deeply breathing young man splashed makeup and followed the clouds lightly all the way.
Underground blue, overflowing stamens faded the freshness of the ground, and crawled all the way in awe of the plateau.
Blue, hidden in the corner of love, retains the feeling of meeting for the first time in life and is solemnly hoarded in the depths of the years.
six
Walking through the endless blue, I would like to be a bird, shuttling through the Qilian Mountains.
Walking through the calm blue, I would like to be a wild grass, wandering on the loess high slope.
Walking through the bright blue, I would like to be a dust and be exiled in the rolling yellow sand.
seven
Highland blue is very moist, a wisp of mountain wind blows, dances lightly, and accidentally falls into the shallows.
The highland blue is so light that I can't help the roar of dust. Love, which took ten thousand years to get out, woke up in drunkenness and dazzled my immature eyes.
Highland blue is pure, no matter how refined the dye is, it is difficult to bring more blue into life.
Highland blue is very narrow, just a wrinkled fragment, just letting go of homesickness and singing pastoral songs with the hills in my hometown.
Highland blue is very wide, just like the running river, bringing your heroic poetic style and reciting the world in the land of white clouds.
eight
Desolate river, as long as you have good thoughts, you can hide the joys and sorrows of all things, twist a color from the water at will, and nourish your love.
Lonely mountain, grabbing the skirt of highland blue, can store tens of thousands of years of peace and keep the original eyes at the same height.
Weather-beaten wildflowers, focusing on catching up with the burning blue on the horizon, can cut corners and stay in front of your window.
Clouds parallel to the ground, passing over the plateau blue, keep the order of flight, and sing softly when looking up.
The swaying reeds are concerned about the highland blue, folding the distant years and connecting the scattered poems into a free swaying huqin.
Even if you travel thousands of miles, you can find the rhyme of a Tang poem in a foreign land with awe of the highland blue, which can melt for a long time and brew a pot of mellow wine in a blank place.
nine
Lend you a beautiful arc to place your thoughts.
Lend you a lush river to keep it clear.
Lend you a pair of affectionate eyes to pick bright green.
10
Who is guarding the inner flame? "One inch of blue" is a scroll with the words of branches written on it, expressing feelings for the plateau.
Who is it, awakening the love of teenagers, walking in the stumbling years, stopping for a moment with the vigorous blue overhead, looking for the warmth of the world.
Who sank the plateau blue into the bottom of my heart, folded the beauty of terror and warmed all beings at the moment when they met the eyes of Tanggula Snow Mountain.
Who is it that holds up a beautiful posture with the purity of blue, when the sunflower is grateful for summer and reflects endless spring through the years?
1 1
On the forehead of Moon Bay, what you are looking for is the blue color immersed in herbal flavor, like a gentle Gesang flower with a deep or shallow dream.
In the footsteps of cattle and sheep returning home, you look for tenderness in them. The blue warmth in the sunset fills the lonely Yuan Ye, paving a way for cattle and sheep to return home.
You are deep in the reeds, looking for the blue that follows you, swaying with your waist, holding out all your love imagination, walking alone in the water-like night, chasing the bright moon held up by smoke and waves.
12
The blue that never leaves, twisted with the ice of time, is often heated in the heart.
Blue, which has never traveled far, regains the aura of Xia Hong falling into the shallows and silently holds it.
Protect the blue of the plateau, clean the eyes of mountains and rivers, and cook for any day.
The vast blue of the garrison shook off the dust of the years and meditated on the broad forehead of the plateau.
An idyll, high and plain blue.
A prayer flag, bright highland blue.
A white cloud, dizzy with plateau blue.
A sea of Haizi hides plateau blue.
13
That evening, I walked across the ridge and hid the compassion and vicissitudes of the valley.
That night, knocking on my window brought me affectionate moonlight.
That night, I accompanied Hu Qin to talk and then traveled around.
That evening, the moon, waiting for the plateau blue to overflow, brushed the eyes of the sky gently.
14
Sift out your extra blue, fill October Sky, and hope you will stop.
Marry you as blue as water, with a hearty dream, aphasia in the boundless night.
You explored your footsteps in the morning light and never forgot the rich blue.
You stare at the Gobi and walk all the way out of the blue.