"A Bunch of Flowers • Snow Night Spring Dream"
Cold night lonely song feather strings, ice finger jumping in front of the lamp. Xi Xiang's euphemistic sentences are aphrodisiac, all of which are lightly involved in the past. Reading broken volumes, chapters turning, how many tragic fates, thinking about the past and waddling, is nothing more than clouds of smoke. Can huangliang dream yan be tied? It is already a lie. Eight volumes are enjoyable, the building is empty, and the matter is pitiful.
Hibiscus explains the meaning of the words he wrote.
Lonely on a cold night, I used the feathers in the five tones to pour out water-like things, and the cold fingers jumped under the light. Reading those euphemistic and sentimental words in the Book of the West Chamber is nothing more than some stories that gently touch people's hearts.
Reading it repeatedly, those plots that turn thousands of times, the Tao is full of fate, but in the end it is like a smoke cloud, just like the vain Huang Liang a dream, why should it be concerned in the heart and can't put it down?
They are nothing more than anecdotal tales, some fictional stories narrated. When the books are finished, the feelings are over. Just like reading like the dream of the Red Chamber crying, chasing and thinking about those poor people and things.
"Cloudy • Light Snow"
A scene as light as goose feathers, white willow gracefully bowed waist, the east wind did not borrow each other, Nishikawa rolled in a diagonal drift. The blue river sound crack negative ice is weak, it is already a spring smoke wrapped in cold bridge; the fear of not accepting the new superposition, floating to the far water gradually towards the distance. Although the pavilion Xiao Xie is happy to be close, it is helpless to be relatively like an understatement. The old countryside is full of obscurity, and it is suspected that the new ridge has gone through. I like the early spring snow, the cold morning and the warm first menstrual, today's shake plum like a thousand, but to meet Fang Fei as delicate as possible.
Let's explain the second song.
The snow that fell all over the sky was like goose feathers, and the snow bent the once flowing willow trees. The early spring easterly wind was slow to come, allowing the cold westerly wind to blow the drifting snow.
The blue ice began to melt, and the exposed water surface emitted mist around the ancient bridge.
I guess it was thin ice, and it was known that it could not bear the thicker and thicker spring snow, so it floated with the flowing water into the distance.
Some of the pavilions opposite me, although they were very close, became hazy because of the heavy snow, like a faint picture.
My hometown is hidden in a vague vision, and I feel that I have come to a new place that I have never been to before.
I love the early spring snow and rejoice in it, the spring tide that is cold in the morning but warm in the evening. Although today I saw the wind shaking the plum blossoms and falling snow, tomorrow will be full of spring, infinitely delicate flowers blooming.
Text/Mahogany original