On March
Your mood has been hovering in the distance
Like a moss-covered bluestone path, it is indomitable
The empty mountain has been tied up strongly
Without your permission
The immortals could not leave either
Because March here is not the same as the March that is said in the world
Here in March, there are only blue skies and white clouds
Here in March, flowers surround the mud
Steaming grass caresses the tinkling heartbeat of the stone
The breeze shakes off the gentle spring
Draw a twilight and go down the hill
Too late to hide the birdsong and the fragrance of flowers
One by one, they were picked up, stuffed into the moon mailbox, and sent out
Born in April
Actually in the rain
I have called you
Although the surname is not known
But I did call
Birdsong that was too late to take off
Replaces your echo beyond the vastness
Gently open the tidbits of The March Ashes
Every time you have buds
Laying the groundwork for me page after page, everything is not appropriate
I heard that April is the best time for you to land and blossom
Unfortunately, Fang Fei in the world is getting old
I brew a sleeve of wind and moon
Mount Kamesumi awaits you
Video loading...
Valley rain
It was given to the earth in the spring, finally
One, there is rain falling
Brew from the top of the mountain, grinding ink and clouds
Move the pen down the comfortable forty-five-degree slope, filling the folds with the echoes of loose waves and green birdsong
The setting sun contains boiling water and spews out a twilight with a raw edge
You put your hand out and hold the rain that is about to get lost
You say your palm, there is one
Very deep and long valley, flowing my destiny
Paper flow years
Species, grass that does not flower
Ring, the bell that won't ring
Repair, can not find the sky of the leak
It's all the least good things in life
Abandoning the flesh to the noisy Spring and Autumn Three Kingdoms, the sons and hundreds of families
Iron stone cast lintel, hanging on the bagua four-square mirror of heaven and earth
Kun has the wind and grass, and the dry will fall into the city
Filter the cloudy life, leaving only the crystal of the stars and the flowing years outside the window
Paper, too thick with ink, too deep with affection
One stab breaks
Green rain
The human world has long been green, fat, red and thin
A variety of leaves squeezed away yesterday's yellow flowers
It also buried the endless mountain road
Everywhere there was thriving, everywhere was camouflage, everywhere was green armor
As the sun set, I also found a fitting one that I draped over my body
The twilight hours followed, trying to crush me
So what's the harm? Even if Bashan falls, it is a green cloud
There will always be a drop or two of spring that falls on a wet night
Someone heard an oil lamp blossom in his sleep
Peach Gate
Where I went last year, there were faces, peach blossoms, and tangled reds
This year I came again, and the peach blossoms were still there, chasing each other in the spring breeze
I bent down and picked up the shattered smiley face and couldn't help but want to cry
Spring is gradually drifting away, and it is inevitable that green fat and red and thin
But I would still smell the incense again and again
Just like in the middle of the night, the world is full of ink, thinking of a person who snatches the door and leaves
Late spring song
It used to be a mighty daytime song
Grass-bottomed sheep, cloudy sky
Acacia River, the waves bloom
Now there is only one day left, and it is still enjoyable
Especially the bright mornings
Birdsong will awaken from the cooking smoke
The breeze unbuttoned the stones of the creek
The jade tree on the side of the road, the little feet sticking out of the dirt, presumably immersed in a dream
Too late to cover up the sloping nostalgia, it was the remnant moon in last night's cup
Spring is like wine
come! Fill my glass
Like a very proud eagle
Standing on the edge of the spring cliff, full of ambition
Singing in the wind, the gold is scattered and returned
The blocks on the heart are thrown out like dice, like a lost secret weapon
The rain that fell from the sky did not have time to sting, and in an instant, it was cut in two
Half River Qingsheng, Half River Turbid Sage
Accompany the sunset all the way to qingming
There is no more wine in the world, where is Ji Sou? The shepherd boy refers to the apricot blossom village
I heard that there is a temple in the village
I heard that there is Fang Fei in the forest
I heard that there are also three peach blossoms at the bottom of the valley
Rain or shine
Every sunny day
You'll go into the wild and release it
Only The Creek and Asakusa know where you've gone
So, sometimes I go and look forward to a rain
Don't be too grand, The kind of disposition of Jiangnan is enough
Lock you in a small courtyard of a mansion in the Southern Song Dynasty
You secretly drank a small glass of cider and sat softly alone at dusk
The mouth is chattering, and I don't know what to say
Like a sparsely falling rain slid down from the edge of the clouds, beating the leaves of the sycamore
Read a love poem with undried ink
Pairs of shadows into three people
Flowers in spring
Pretty much rendered
You are alone, encompassing the aesthetics of the wind
And the pickiness of the rain
After the Qingming, the sun began to become too bold
Jiangnan is like an oil refinery, and it is no longer suitable for the horse that sleeps and forgets to eat
The glass in my hand was now full
And the crescent moon in the sky is feminine
If you come
Just enough, you can overlap a pair of anthropomorphic shadows
Picking
Asaka had not yet knocked on the window, did not wake up the wind chimes of late sleep, and gently moved the mountain gate
You pick up Jiangnan and tie up the green silk that lingered last night
The small cloth on his body is the same as the blue sky, and there are white clouds floating on it
You look like a fish escaping the shoal, spitting out one long-lost wave after another in your mouth
Green white fingers, swimming between the high and low leaves
You wrote two lines of twilight in the world
A cup of clarity
Another cup of valley rain
evening
Video loading...
I like it
I like it
A girl holding a package, large and small
Walk through the mass court without a person's eyes
The smile was as silky as the morning glow and flowed involuntarily from his face
It's like a first love
I like it
A bunch of people sat around the stove
Life is noisy, dust is splashing
The reed wind nodded
Willow shore ha waist
A strange girl named Twenty-Four played the flute on the bridge
The sunset reflects the surface of the lake, like a guqin
I like it
The streets are bustling with traffic
The scenery in the distance is crowded
The hawkers' shouts were hotter than the cicadas
The rice noodle shops across the bridge were raging all night
I like it
There is plenty of time to hide in the dream of the moon
While thinking wildly, I don't forget
Overlooking the incense on earth
Video loading...