That July of that year
A woman sitting quietly next to the text
Sing softly
Shuttle through Tang poems and Song poems
Let the sorrows of this life wander in the dreams of past lives
A dream for a thousand years
Let the ancient rhyme flow in the breeze
Reverberations haunt the heart
Remember, that night
The tears of a woman,
For you to swoop down...
Not for sorrow, but for the look back on the side of the bridge
thereupon
In July, when the moon is hanging high
The acacia tune is woven between the fingers
Hold a roll of flowers and a pool of ink incense
Dip a drop of moon tears into a wisp of gossamer
In the slender moonlight
Fill in the chapter of the earth and the earth
Across the shore, you listen to the song
If you see the woman
At the top of the water, at the top of the mountain
In the distant Tang and Song Dynasties, in the alleys of Jiangnan
In a faint dream, call your name softly
A touch of slanting sun, a wisp of acacia
It's still deciduous, it's still dusk
Across the shore, you see the light flying blue finger writing the text
You say: Reading me is like setting off a beautiful picture
The landscape of Jiangnan is freehand
Just like that, I was inadvertently swept in front of my eyes
Reading me, it seems to smell the sweet fragrance of time and space for a long time
Read me, quiet and elegant, let you linger in it
Read me and make you leave for a long time
July is all the rage
The other shore is such a shore
Looking for you between the lines, your shadow is picturesque
Wait for dusk
Wait for you, and then be quiet
Wrapped up in a word
Sniff the ink
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