Warm green,
Against the emerald green causeway,
Wait for you to plant beauty,
And I removed the sorrow from my brow bone,
Write your first love letter,
Placed in the plum blossom field.
Plum blossoms open each other,
And I put down my pen,
I know that some love does not belong to me,
However, I still like cool verses,
Immersed in the second love letter,
The aroma of Ren plum wine,
Falling in the bottom of the heart.
Peach blossoms from desolate to stunning,
On the night of March,
Greedy for the water vapor of Qing Lingling.
Smoke rises
My heart is troubled,
Unable to finish the story in the third love letter.
April has a clear green stirring memories,
Fiery red fireworks,
Hide behind the grass and trees and wait for you to wade through the mountains and open the water,
The warmth of the fourth love letter.
Lush green vines,
Leaning against the fence, I looked at the most beautiful silence in the red dust.
There is no parting and no expectation again,
My eyes are full of joy,
The years are shallow and shallow in the fifth love letter.
Tranquil, and ann,
This day of blossoming,
Sadness has nothing to do with the seasons,
I sat with the warm breeze.
A nostalgia always inadvertently climbs the eyebrows,
The wind swayed with the wafting aroma,
Kissing the liberal arts in the sixth love letter.
So the heart quietly opened,
Overflowing with elegant clear words.
Listen to the rain,
There is your shadow in the rain,
And I'm looking for gaps,
Hide the noise.
I also quietly wrote the seventh love letter,
Something,
There is no need to look for it deliberately.
Again the hustle and bustle of the earthly world,
I have looked down on the situation,
Dark incense floated in the mood,
But he was so peaceful that he continued to write the eighth love letter,
Leave you with the joy of the afterscent,
Close your eyes and gently stroke the rhyme of the flowing years.
Good character,
It is a melody that slowly reverberates in the body,
Harmony, the clan embraces scattered souls,
In the ninth love letter,
Mark those fragrances with flowering periods,
The hidden heart is full of sorrow and joy.
The city is full of fallen leaves,
but it cannot become its own place of belonging,
My tenth love letter was originally in the play,
Unexpectedly, in the blink of an eye in this world,
Drift away with the wind.
It's winter,
Still written yellowed eleventh love letter,
In fact, it has nothing to do with you.
Cloaked in his own coarse cloth,
With a faint affection,
There is also a touch of warmth.
Scenery is the subject of my finger,
No one stopped my broken pen,
Habit of silence,
Planting grass, planting flowers, planting vegetables, and planting Qianli,
I just don't like to plant thorns in the twelfth love letter.
Although now I am getting older,
I have my thought subject,
Even if you have forgotten me,
In the future, the wind will continue to blow a legend.
maybe
You don't like to read my love letters, why should I turn them up again,
The roadside that walks by is no longer looking,
The seeds you sowed on that month of that year.
My sorrow has nothing to do with you,
I stopped talking,
Until the passion is gone, the exhausted life is still beautiful in the world.
2021.12.2 Afternoon Essay