1, people in the night sky are not in the center. I am leaning on the threshold of time alone, so I miss you and am so attached. The world of mortals is 3 thousand, and I only take one ladle to drink. Loving you may be a dusty relationship forged in our last life. I looked for you in Tang poetry and Song poetry.
By the Xunyang River, waiting for a thousand years. I'll wait for you in the rain lane in the south of the Yangtze River, holding an oil-paper umbrella. I met you in a poem. You are a graceful song poem, and you are a hazy modern poem.
You are the ink in my heart, and you are the cloud on the horizon. You are misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, and you are pink and green in spring. When I miss you, misty rain is ink, mountains and rivers are poetry. When I miss you, the world of mortals is a note and the branches are pens. In this life, my heart only beats for you. My love is only crazy for you.
2. Lovers full of pain such as infatuation, hero and holy Nightcrawler, in your rose garden full of desire, everything is orderly and solemn as a ceremony. Life and love have never been so depressed as they are today.
Never so sad as the memories of the times and young people, food and genealogy are piled up on high hills. Your son stood at the dazzling gateway, your horse and sword returned to the palace, your love for sweet words, the seeds of material we planted, grew up in ignorance in the dark. Like an attractive and disgusting poisonous seedling.