Autumn twilight is dead, and the past is like smoke. A heartbreak, a ghostly dream is hard to forget. Butterfly Yi Shanshan went down to the West Building, and the leaves of the Wu were withering in autumn. When the flowers fall, the autumn of longing, how much loneliness becomes long. If people can forget each other, they will not have tonight's sorrows and sorrows. Then let you follow my thoughts and gently walk into my poignant chapter.
The words of parting are still in your ears, your look back is sad and broken, leaving your eyes behind, full of sad tears. They all said: "Gathering and scattering is impermanent, and good dreams are difficult to stay." "Helpless! Flowers fall and flow, cut the west window alone, and the flowers have gone to add more sorrow. If, you are the tears of my previous life, in this life I would like to look at each other lonely in the red dust, and let the years strip away the sorrow of my past life.
The cold wind and cold rain are like yesterday's parting, it is really like a dream, although you have left, I still remember your smile, graceful appearance. Although, in this life, you and I are just a moment of beautiful looking back, perhaps, everything we have is just a word, I have no regrets, let alone wandering. Perhaps, we will still look at each other in silence.
Thinking of your face, I will never forget, no matter how many vicissitudes of the years, I will also precipitate you into the most beautiful scenery in my heart. The dream was drunk, the heart was broken, and my thoughts were still fragrant. A gust of wind, a rain, a cool autumn, more humorous sentimentality.
When I miss you, Sing for you, and when I am sad, line up my words, empty cups for you, and write words. I often lean on the window to listen to the wind and watch the rain on that sleepless night, and after the storm, there is no longer your figure, and I can no longer see you smiling and coming to me.
My heart was broken, my people were drunk, and my thoughts were still flowing. Tears fell softly, cooling the moonlight in the autumn colors. The heart of longing passes through the rainy alley after autumn, unable to find the fragrance of your past, only the eyebrows are condensed, and the tears flow into the line. Dreams fall, and my thoughts are singing alone. The powder petals turn into mud, the melancholy pushes the window, stained with autumn dust, and falls on the ground sad.
Today, I picked up the picture frame filled with our landscape, thinking of you, or the dust fragrance that cannot be erased and scattered. Tonight, the moon is frosted, locking only the sorrow in the quiet moonlight. A clear song, the lute plays. The sound is even more sad, the tune of the city, the beautiful desolation.
Clear sound flowing, through the winding path and alley, can it reach the atrium of your heart? A song of broken souls, swallowed alone. The euphemistic heart song flows, the melody of the absolute, the ghostly resentment. The song rhymes long, caught in the cold branches of the wind forest, can there be an echo of your thoughts? Tonight, let the similar disaster, the mood is confused.
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