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Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Azure and so on, and I'm waiting for you,

Cooking smoke rises, thousands of miles across the river.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

A stream of clouds lightly groomed.

Breeze on the shore, blue as a hairpin.

Black tiles and white walls, a paper of red dust.

The flowing water is self-chanting, the memory is long, and the dream is Jiangnan.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Ink is full of flowers, thin wings are immaculate.

Clean water square objects, who died?

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

The desolate moss under the forest is the Yun family, and the jade bones are dusty and sandy.

There is nowhere to say before the wind, and the number returns to the crow.

Half a life of duckweed died with the water, and a cold rain buried the famous flowers.

The soul is a willow that blows and blows, circling the end of the world.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

There is no definite refusal of the ancient rivers and mountains. In the sound of the painting horn, the wranglers come and go frequently. Who can speak of desolation? The westerly wind blows old Dan maple trees.

Once upon a time there should have been countless grievances. Iron Horse Jingo, Aozuka Dusk Road. How deep is the love? Deep in the mountains shines in the late autumn rain.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

You stand on the bridge and look at the view,

People watching the scenery are watching you from upstairs.

The bright moon decorates your window,

You decorate someone else's dream.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Everyone is crazy to escape the heat, and the only Zen master does not leave the room.

It is not that the Zen room does not have heat, but it can be calm and cold.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Whisper a love word, write a love picture. Bloom a love flower, covered with a green tile. Drink a cup of tea and a bowl of green sand together. Pull up a light veil and see the crescent moon in the sky. Love is like ink and blue flowers, why be afraid of the moment.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone

It's like wandering in a long, long way

And lonely rain alley,

I hope to meet

A lilac like

A girl with a grudge.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

After going through the turmoil of the world, I explored the secret path of the Pavilion.

Sitting in the misty rain in the middle of the lake is better than the Wuli Mountain Temple Line.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Who reads the west wind alone cool, Xiao Xiao yellow leaves close the window, contemplating the past and standing in the sun.

Shocked by the wine Mo Chun slept heavily, gambling books dissipated the tea aroma, at that time only the Tao was commonplace.

Some people say that you fall in love with a city because there is someone you like living in the city. In fact, falling in love with a city may be a vivid scenery in the city, for a period of green plum past, for a familiar old house. Perhaps, it is only for this city. It's like falling in love with someone, sometimes you don't need any reason, no antecedent, it has nothing to do with the wind and moon, just love. --Lin Huiyin

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Flowers are not flowers, fog is not fog. Midnight comes, and dawn goes. When there are not many dreams in spring, it seems that there is nowhere to find the clouds. A lifetime of glitz, a season of forgetfulness. Empty of memories, disturbed and entangled. Smiles are gone, and there are thousands of loneliness. Strings, Sihua Nian. Those years were like a dream. For example, the flow of water is gone. Don't cry parting, don't complain about the end.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Don't listen to the sound of leaves beating through the forest, why not groan and walk slowly. Bamboo cane mango shoes light victory over horses, who is afraid? A cloud of smoke and rain is a life of peace. The steep spring wind blows wine awake, slightly cold, but the mountain head obliquely illuminates each other. Looking back at the place where it has always been, returning, there is no wind or rain or sunshine.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Once, the hand of the son, and the son, in the end, were just floating smoke; once, the dead and the life were broad, and the son was old, but it was only fruitless; in the depths of the red dust, I should have come and withdrawn, but I was already full of heart; within the Three Realms, who did you cross, shed tears, and misbehaved the upper edge of the Three Stones of Life.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

Not confused in the heart, not trapped in emotion. Don't be afraid of the future, don't think about the past. So, okay.

Long thoughts, dreams of Jiangnan

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Minglun College - "Top Ten Chinese Studies Educational Institutions in China"

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