The time has eroded into countless lovesickness at the whisper. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world, and you'll be able to do it all in one place. A warm thought, crossed the dust and smoke of the years, can arrive at your soul lonely at the long shore. A song of heart's desire, through the memory of the long space, can listen to the shallow monologue in my heart. The only thing I want to do is to remember that love is long, water is long, and intention is even longer. The only wish is that you are safe, I am safe, and the years are safe! Silent dust, smile to guard the ink in the text of the falling flowers, counting the years, reclining on the memory of the water-colored years, walking through the years, the road has been in the foot extension. Through the dust, the heart has been in the pen fragrance. The first time I saw this, I was in the middle of the night, I was in the middle of the night, I was in the middle of the night, I was in the middle of the night, I was in the middle of the night.
The beauty of the first encounter, with a full step, trekking, came in style, embracing each other, dancing, dancing the world of lead, dancing out of the heart of the city of love, only this time, will be drunk with the pen rhyme, dyeing the ink, warm eyes. That a touch of flowers, the spirit of a season and a season of the chapter, that a bosom tenderness, happiness, a petal and a petal of sweetness. Years like water, for whom you wrote down a paragraph and a section of the lingering past. The year is like water, for whom you have written a paragraph and a paragraph of lingering past, and the thought is like a song, for whom you have sung a song and a song of intoxicating sadness. Time in the years piled up love and pain, one by one in the heart, bright branches of the memory, elegant life of the dust fragrance. I don't know how long this love will exist, only know that it is with the world, and the love affair is not yet finished, and the obsession with the bond.
The idea of the words tainted into the melancholy, a line sprinkled in the brush, the heart of the intersection of the throbbing, tripping the soul of the wings. I don't know how long this idea will exist, only know it with the sun and the moon, and the four seasons walk, and the years of quiet. Time Ran Ran, the years are long, who is the love, in love with the dream in this world. The stars and the moon are pouring out of the city, and the fragrance of flowers is pouring out of the city, whose afterglow is lingering on the pillow moo in the dust of the past. The four seasons are sweet, the friendship is full, whose charm, condensed the warm fragrance of the years. Deep in the red dust, holding the warmth, * sitting on the end of the pen, light as orchids, a flowery text, only for you in the Mo Lost Mo Forgotten, playing a song of the red dust, drunken three lifetimes of love, in the most beautiful years of holding each other, sticking to a thought of lovesickness, twisting a petal of the heart, in the deepest of the red dust to reunite! Idle pool flowers fall, a bend of the crescent moon, a pool of wind lotus, Chu Chu WanYu, a touch of tenderness, a vein of thoughts, stained with frost and snow, the word of love how to solve?
掬一捧流年如歌，一道道明媚，凄美，斑驳。 The most beautiful years in the jinx and the most beautiful season of the flowers burning, the most beautiful smile in the clouds and water in the depths of the frame, so the pure beauty of the feelings don't in the years of the title page, dipped in the pen to describe, such as dreams and songs, and the warmth of the years, calm and indifferent. A word of thought, a note, let the heart quietly withered in the fingertips, the millennium stationed, tears flowing, dry in the wind, the cold light reflecting her figure thin, who will understand that waiting for the lonesome? Heavy a promise, this heart will become a lock, looking at the moon is not a song, who understands? The carving bar indifferent, phoenix xiao whimpering, shaking a broken song Jinxie uncoordinated, hand folded leaves how to say loneliness, transparent cool thin, silent fall.
The years are silent in the snow, ignorant of the affairs of the heart written into the book, the thin pen like flowers, lonely as snow, Cheng Jun a promise, red dust fall, line all the shadow, do not fear, do not regret, do not negative, ferrying the river of reincarnation. A Huai bright moon, still fireworks, with a wisp of faint plum scent, for you to reconcile a thousand years of lovesickness, tears and rain bottles drink, not to leave, the wind is rare, the dark incense to go, broken clouds and evening snow tears stained clothes, soft language Wu Nong Sirens sob, those green fat and red skinny lovesickness, those clear and painfully nothing to rely on, those ink stained thousands of years of memories, along a scenic vaguely, wai into the charming, moistened with the old dreams of Fluttering Yeon such as poetry, leaning to think about the green shirt, so obsessed with, by the The years weaving like rain sprinkled in my world, moistened memories.
Who explains the predestination, who asks the flowers to solve the language? Those elegant intersections, still poetic, thin traces of the years, walking in the rainy season in Jiangnan, a lifetime of searching. A few intoxicated, a few confused, not sad, not happy, a wisp of fragrance, alone clear and leisurely. Take a finger of gentle poetry, write a once, and the long days of autumn water, not to say separation. Pulling a eyebrow like water peace, stroking a zither and zither, with the flow of sound and clear string of words, lotus happy between. The rainy mood, no longer sighing, sticking to a thought of love, twisting a petal heart incense, in the deepest red dust reunion.
Smoke cage water cold, thin moon Qinglan, tonight's candlelight and will graze whose thoughts? The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new one, and you'll be able to do it. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a handful of starlight, a volume of past points, and look back at the years, and the smile at those sweet, still fragrant. Those low-brow tenderness, still wild. Once met, the real scenery, each other's mind is how fit, once a good time, has long been tilted into a curtain full of sadness. I just want to depict you into the ink of the painting. I only want to write you into the white lines of poetry. I only want to put you into the clear music. I just want to hide you in the warmth of my heart.
If it is possible, we can accompany each other for a lifetime, in the soft sunshine, in the intertwined rain, gently hand in hand, feel the warmth of the wind, the love of the eternal long. So, I stranded in the text into a line, warm words into incense, on the dream in a section of pure chapter, framed a silent time, buried a strand of flat and oblique injury. This is the way to keep the warm and cold seasons, to keep the change of the sun and the moon, waiting here, waiting for you to enter my rainy season once again. Carrying a wisp of clear wind, wearing a flowing white coat, holding a handle of oil-paper umbrella gently open the dusty sentiments, once poetic as a wisp of breeze, all the lovesickness diffuse. And like an ancient scroll slowly unfolded, all the days of ink rendering.
Lift your eyebrows and lean on the window, the woman who is as quiet as the autumn water, pulling a wisp of the moon's radiance, sprinkling the fragrance of the hair, picking up a drop of orchid dew, swim open colorful memories. Beautiful feelings, quietly guarding a waiting for the flowers to bloom. I've got a bright moon, and it's full of poetic lines of love. Pick a green lotus, overflowing with the fragrance of your peace of mind. Play a song of red dust, drunken three lifetimes of love, in the most beautiful years to hold each other. Bright moon small building, dew condensation clear humor roaming through the branches of the autumn night, the wind around the finger soft, love and ink to stay, the ghost of sandalwood incense stained Acacia willow, save red beans, a strand of gentle, dense veins of heart fragrance of seclusion, exquisite flowers, the clear moon in the years, but the heart of the prisoner, walk in the light of the text, for whom to write down the sinking of the unrepentant, engraved with the eyes of the disarray.
The lonely red dust, the soul of the love of you have a few worlds of infatuation, a wisp of residual fragrance who to warm up? I'm not sure where to put this, but I'm not sure where to put this, so I'm not sure where to put this. A thousand dead lamps, who put the smile clear alcohol, step on the moon fiber dust, entangled in a world away from the empty love. The watery thoughts in the fingertips of the shallow ripples of a song of clear sound flow, composed of a world of clouds and water in the depths of the innocence of the first encounter. The river and the moon, counting the years, paddles and lampshades you go in a twilight, when the back of your last dense, deep Wan into my lifetime of coziness. Heart like the moon, through the silent red dust, a pure and beautiful love into a period of years, silent waiting, waiting for the depths of the clouds and water and a season of flowers bloom absolutely beautiful. As watery thoughts, research ink into poetry, scattered sentences of ties, this life, you can pick up for me that full of flower language, lingering a reed reed like snow time.
If you can, Ran in the sunset, a white coat, the wind across the flute, clear shadow. Years of loneliness accompanied by the moonlight, close your eyes in the dream before you see Jun Rong. Sleeve willow wind, ink point Linglong, the watchful lonesome chant into the sunset of a touch of afterglow, I do not know the years urged, messed up the shadow of the trees, the love has not faded. The night is deep and charming, the moonlight is clear, incomparably warm, quiet late fall, quiet thoughts, light feelings, pick a red leaf loneliness, chanting into a poem with a long meaning. Fishing a lake clear moon, keep a world of persistence, in the place where you turn to sit peacefully *, see the blue sky every spread of color, pray that you will be good. Look at the silence in the reflection of the moon in the lake, and pray for you for a lifetime. Cloud sea waves, the heart pastoral, obsessed with the promise you give, leaning against the cold moonlight, send pen and ink, stay in love with the wind and the moon, with a petal such as snow, the fragrance of the vegetarian stamens to write a song.