【That city, that snow】
Text/Flow year no shore
The dead hand lit a thousand lamps and flowers, and the full heart of the pillow wind and snow stood in front of the lone lamp, folding greed over and over again, and the pieces were squeezed into the corners, hugging each other in a panic. A few yellows hanging from the cold branches crumbled in the cold wind, fluttering like a piece of flying snow outside the guan.
The chill of shock played in the orchestra of the side plug, and the people who returned from the snow in the middle of the night stretched their figures in the sound of the clicking snow, and also lengthened the bowls of fireworks that night and the city.
At the ferry port of the return boat, a cold rain drenched the time and the mood of a thousand sorrows; the umbrella walked into the dusk street, and measured the figure full of eyes and the thoughts of the heart step by step, and outside the snowy plug, it fell in front of your window, and also whitened the page of poetry that you read lazily.
Gently shake the turbulent landscape and water, cover it with deep affection with a place of ink fragrance, and write the deep meaning flowing in the fingers on the letterhead of the long river of years. All the thoughts went all the way north in the cold qiang sound outside the Yumen Pass, choked with tears in the hands of the hands of the West Exit Yang Pass, and gurgled in the center of the camel's bell outside the Ancient Road Pass.
Looking out the window at the night sky, the cold wind has passed through the distant mountains and crossed the mighty rivers; Looking north through the cold window of a thousand years of independence, standing like a sculpture, embracing the empty Liao alone, the thoughts are leisurely like ephemeral flowers blooming, with a little faint sorrow.
Gently lifting his eyes, the cold rain wet the window, sprinkling amorous words between the lines overlooking the window, the river that flows leisurely in the quiet night, the mountains and stones on both sides of the river together with the light boats that drift by, spread the pulse warmth on both sides of the crab leaf, in the trumpet sound of the Western Zhou labor, constantly calling with affection.
Inside the window, all the expectations are warm in the nostalgia of the vast silhouette, together with this window of this house, let the thoughts walk through the west wind ancient road, soak the thoughts of the snow falling in the sparse street lamp, dust off the red dust and the death of the years, weave the wind and frost into a white coat, in the deep winter of the wind and snow, Xu III's years of love, the first sight of the shock, cut a gap of idle clouds and cold streams, in a journey of mountains and rivers to grow and spread.
Tonight, there was a lot of snow in that city. Tonight, the snow in that city is very warm.
-About the Author-
Pen celebrities are young and literary lovers.