Listen to a song of unruffled silk, taste of quietly elegant of green tea. From the bottom of a congested streams from attachment, flows through the waters of the south, to see the busy yushu, little bridge the somebody else, to see the drizzle bound willow leaf, the wind out of bamboo.
In between the splash-ink landscape, face breeze and stand, tap dance garments, just as if the confines of the open mind, let it overflow to the outside. Then, a head of skewed into the deepest part of the YanYu, drunk into the most the most fans who stance.
Pillow the spring breeze of green LiuAn, smell the breath of clove, lightly stroking the fiercely XingHuaYu, with the wind of the south into the wet. On that just to hold my light series of model tail, listen to the farther and nearer and period of sound...
That night, the balcony crescent son particularly clear, without a cloud. Before you know it, "house night listening to a spring rain, the Ming dynasty deep sell almond flowers" verse and the unrecoginized heart, XinJian place, a little pain.
Like a knife sharp knife, break glove, half jiangbei, half jiangnan, want to close for a place has could not, and never is thick sky and home. The YanYu, like a demon, softly to come up, will I cast into the soul of the heavy and protrude the dreamland, let me there, looking for a place xanadu. Lost ah, lost it.
Sense of wind, from unknown place in blown out of the window, as if the soul who summons, seems to take away all around you. Left alone, I in the dark of the night. In fact, in retrospect, the life I have received? Smiled calmly, actually had the bleak I never changes what, just in the emotional world, add a another story. A happy, also have sorrow.
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